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diff --git a/old/56097-0.txt b/old/56097-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 0916c28..0000000 --- a/old/56097-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6052 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ranch Girls at Boarding School, by -Margaret Vandercook - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Ranch Girls at Boarding School - -Author: Margaret Vandercook - -Illustrator: Hugh A. Bodine - -Release Date: December 1, 2017 [EBook #56097] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RANCH GIRLS AT BOARDING SCHOOL *** - - - - -Produced by Roger Frank - - - - - - - - -[Illustration: MARGARET BELKNAP’S BROTHER COULD BE SEEN DANCING -ATTENDANCE ON JEAN] - - - - -THE RANCH GIRLS SERIES - -The Ranch Girls at Boarding School - -By - -Margaret Vandercook - -Illustrated By - -Hugh A. Bodine - -THE JOHN C. WINSTON COMPANY - -PHILADELPHIA - - - - -Copyright, 1913, by - -THE JOHN C. WINSTON COMPANY - - - - -CONTENTS - - I. “STILL AS THE NIGHT” - II. IN DISGRACE - III. “GERRY” - IV. GETTING INTO HARNESS - V. NEWS AND A DISCOVERY - VI. HER TEMPTATION - VII. CINDERELLA - VIII. SHADOWS BEFORE - IX. FRIEDA’S MISTAKE - X. THE HOUSE OF MEMORY - XI. “SLEEPY HOLLOW, A LAND OF DREAMS” - XII. WINIFRED GRAHAM AND GERRY - XIII. THE APPEAL TO OLIVE - XIV. “TO THINE OWN SELF BE TRUE” - XV. THE DANGER OF WEALTH - XVI. ELECTION DAY - XVII. CONGRATULATIONS - XVIII. FANCIES OR MEMORIES? - XIX. NEW YEAR’S EVE - XX. THE TRUE HISTORY OF OLIVE - XXI. JEAN AND FRIEDA RETURN TO PRIMROSE HALL - XXII. READJUSTMENTS - XXIII. “MAY TIME is GAY TIME” - XXIV. SHAKESPEARE’S HEROINES - XXV. “JACK” - - - - -The Ranch Girls at Boarding School - - - - -CHAPTER I - -“STILL AS THE NIGHT” - - -Would the long night never pass? A figure on a bed in a big bare room -stirred and then sighed. Ages ago a clock in the great house known as -Primrose Hall, not far from the famous region of “Sleepy Hollow,” had -struck three, then four, and now one, two, three, four, five solemn -strokes boomed forth and yet not a glimmer of light nor a sound to -announce the coming of morning. - -“In the Lord put I my trust; how say ye then to my soul, that she should -flee as a bird unto the hill? For lo, the ungodly bend their bow and -make ready their arrow within the quiver, that they may privily shoot at -them which are true of heart,” a tired voice murmured, and then after a -short pause: “Oh, girls, are you awake yet? Aren’t you ever, ever going -to wake up? Dear me, this night already seems to me to have lasted -forever and ever!” For no answer had followed the question, although a -door stood wide open between this and an adjoining room and the bed in -the other room was occupied by two persons. - -Five minutes crawled by and then another five. Tired of reciting the -“Psalms of David” to induce repose, the wakeful figure slipped suddenly -from its own bed and a slim ghost stole across the floor—a ghost that -even in the darkness revealed two shadowy lengths of jet-black hair. In -the farther room it knelt beside another bed, pressing its cheek against -another cheek that felt both plump and peaceful, while its hand reached -forth to find another hand that lay outside the coverlet. - -“They are both sound asleep and I am a wretch to be trying to waken -them,” the spectre faltered; “but how can they sleep so soundly the -first night at a strange boarding school when I am so homesick and -lonely I know that I am going to die or cry or do something else -desperate? If only Jack were here, things would be different!” And Olive -Ralston, one of the four girls from the Rainbow Ranch, sliding to the -floor again, sat with her legs crossed under her and her head resting on -her hands in a curious Indian posture of grief. And while she waited, -watching beside the bedside where Jean Bruce and Frieda Ralston were now -quietly asleep, her thoughts wandered away to the hospital in New York -City, which held her beloved friend Jack. - -Only the day before the three ranch girls, accompanied by their -chaperon, Ruth Drew, had made their initial appearance at Primrose Hall -to begin their first year of fashionable boarding school life. But once -the girls had been introduced to the principal of the school, Miss -Katherine Winthrop, and Ruth had had a talk with her and seen the rooms -assigned to the ranch girls, she had been compelled to take the next -train back to New York, a journey of twenty or more miles, for Jack had -been left behind in a hospital and must not be long alone. There she lay -awaiting the verdict of the New York surgeons to know whether after her -accident at the Yellowstone Park the summer before she might ever expect -to walk again. The chief reason of the trip from the Rainbow Lodge in -Wyoming to New York City had not been to give the ranch girls an eastern -education and to fit them for a more cosmopolitan life now that so great -wealth was being brought forth from the Rainbow Mine, but to find out -what could be done for Jack. - -Now even while Olive was thinking of her best loved friend, a faint, -chirrupy noise and a flutter of unfolding wings sounded along the -outside walls of Primrose Hall. Lifting her head with a smothered cry of -delight, the girl spied a thin streak of light shining across the floor. -A moment later, back in her own room with the door closed behind her and -her own window open, her eyes were soon eagerly scanning the unfamiliar -scene before her. Dawn had come at last! - -The young girl drew a deep breath. In the excitement of her arrival at -school the day before, in the first meeting with so many strangers, -Olive had not spared time to see or think of the surroundings of -Primrose Hall, but now she could examine the landscape thoroughly. Set -in the midst of one of the most beautiful valleys along the Hudson -River, this morning the fields near by were bright with blue asters, -with goldenrod and the white mist-like blossoms of the immortelles; the -low hills in the background were brown and red and gold with the October -foliage of the trees. Beyond the fields the Hudson River ran broader and -deeper than any stream of water a ranch girl had ever seen, and across -from it the New Jersey palisades rose like hoary battlements now veiled -in a light fog. Surely no sunrise on the river Rhine could be more -wonderful than this sunrise over the Hudson River; and yet, as Olive -Ralston gazed out upon it, its beauty did not dry her tears nor ease the -lump in her throat, for what she wanted was home, the old familiar -sights and sounds, the smell of the Rainbow Ranch—and nothing could be -more unlike the low level sweep of their Wyoming prairie than this -Hudson River country. - -“Heimweh,” the Germans call this yearning for home, which we have named -homesickness, but a better word theirs than ours, for surely this -longing for home, for accustomed people and things in the midst of -strange surroundings, may be a woe very deep and intense. - -From the first hour of the ranch girls’ planning to come east to -boarding school Olive Ralston had believed that the change from the -simple life of the ranch to the more conventional school atmosphere -would be more difficult for her than for either Jean or Frieda. True, -she had not spoken of it, but Olilie, whom the ranch girls had renamed -Olive, had never forgotten that she was in reality an unknown girl, with -no name of her own and no people, and except for her friends’ generosity -might still be living in the dirty hut in the Indian village with old -Laska. - -After talking it over with Ruth and Jack, they had all decided that it -would be wiser not to mention Olive’s strange history to her new -schoolmates. Now in the midst of her attack of homesickness, Olive -wondered if the girls would not at once guess her mixed blood from her -odd appearance, or else might she not some day betray her ignorance of -the little manners and customs that reveal a good family and good -breeding? In the two happy years spent at the Rainbow Ranch she had -learned all she could from Ruth and the other three girls, but were -there not fourteen other ignorant years back of those two years? - -A charming picture Olive made standing at the open window with her -quaint foreign face framed in the high colonial casement. But now, -finding both the autumn air and her own thoughts chilling, she turned -away and began slowly to dress. She was still blue and yet at the same -time ashamed of herself, for had she not been indulging in the most -foolish habit in the world, feeling sorry for herself? Here at Primrose -Hall did she not hope to find the beginning of her big opportunity and -have not big opportunities the world over the fashion of starting out -with difficulties to be overcome? When Olive’s education was completed -she had made up her mind to return once more to the Indian village where -she had spent her childhood and there devote her life to the teaching of -the Indian children. Though Jack and Frieda Ralston, since the discovery -of the gold mine near Rainbow Creek, were probably very wealthy and -though it was but right that Jean Bruce as their first cousin should -share their fortune with them, Olive did not feel that she wished to be -always dependent even on the best of friends. - -Having slowly dressed with these thoughts in her mind, the young girl’s -mood was afterwards a little more cheerful, and yet she could not make -up her mind how best to amuse herself until the half-past seven o’clock -bell should ring for breakfast. She might write Jack, of course, but -there was no news to tell her at present, and stirring about in her room -hanging pictures or arranging ornaments would surely awaken Jean and -Frieda, who were still slumbering like the seven famous sleepers. No -other girl shared Olive’s room because Ruth and the four ranch girls -hoped that after a few weeks’ treatment in the New York hospital Jack -would then be able to join the others at school. - -Idling about and uncertain what to do, Olive came again to her open -window and there stood listening to the “chug, chug, chug” of a big -steamer out on the river and then to the shriek of an engine along its -banks. Suddenly her face brightened. - -“What a goose I am to be moping indoors!” she exclaimed aloud, “I think -I will try Jack’s old remedy for a bad temper and go and have a good -walk to myself before breakfast.” - -Now Olive did not have the least idea that in going out alone and -without permission she would be breaking an iron law of Primrose Hall. -Nothing was farther from her mind than disobedience, but no one had yet -told her of the school rules and regulations and taking a walk alone -seemed to her the most natural thing in the world. Had she only waited a -few hours longer she must have understood differently, for the students -were expected to assemble that very morning to hear what was required of -them at Primrose Hall. - -As quietly as possible Olive now slipped on her coat and hat, creeping -along the hall on tiptoes so as not to disturb the other sleepers, and -for the same reason she as quietly unlocked the big front door. But once -out on the lawn, so innocent was she of trying to escape unnoticed, that -she paused for several moments to gaze back at the great house she was -about to leave. - -Primrose Hall was so handsome and imposing that its new pupil felt a -thrill of admiration as she looked upon it. A red brick mansion of the -old colonial period, it was set in a lovely garden with flowers and -shrubs growing close about the house and an avenue of elm trees leading -down to the gate. Back of the house was an English garden with a border -of box and a sun-dial at the end of a long path. This morning only a few -late asters were in bloom in the garden and bushes of hardy hydrangeas -with their great blossoms now turning rose and brown from the first -early autumn frosts. The house and estate of twelve acres had belonged -in the family of Miss Katherine Winthrop for the past five generations -and Olive smiled a little over her queer conceit, for the house somehow -suggested its present owner to her. Surely Miss Winthrop had appeared -just as imposing and aristocratic as her old home on first meeting with -her the day before, but far colder and more imposing than any mere pile -of brick and stone. - -Primrose Hall was of so great size that it included all the bedrooms and -reception rooms necessary for its pupils and teachers, and the only -other school buildings about the grounds were the recitation hall and -two sorority houses devoted to the pleasures of the girls. Olive had -never heard of secret societies, yet she wondered what the mystic words -“Kappa” and “Theta” meant, inscribed above their doors. - -Primrose Hall had been recommended to Ruth Drew and the ranch girls by -Peter Drummond, the New York friend whom they had learned to know at the -Yellowstone Park, but apart from its excellent reputation as a finishing -school, their choice had fallen upon it because of the far-famed beauty -of its historic grounds. In this same old house Washington and Lafayette -had been known to stay, and who can guess how many powdered belles and -beaus may have flirted with one another in the garden by the old -sun-dial? - -When Olive had grown tired of the views about the houses she determined -to extend her walk over a portion of the estate, and coming to a low, -stone wall, climbed over it without thinking or caring just where it led -her. Being outdoors once more and free to wander as she choose after two -weeks’ confinement, one aboard a stuffy train and the other in a -palace-like hotel in New York, was now so inspiring that Olive felt like -singing aloud. Indeed, it seemed to her that her own personality, which -had somehow vanished since leaving the ranch, had come back to her this -morning like a dear, familiar garment. It was as though she had lately -been wearing fine clothes that did not belong to her and in this hour -had donned once again her own well-worn dress. - -Running along with the fleetness and quietness of her early Indian days, -soon the truant found herself in a woods thick with underbrush and trees -never seen before by a Wyoming girl. The air was delicious, the leaves -sparkled with the melting of the frost, there was a splendid new wine of -youth and romance abroad in the world and Olive completely forgot that -she was in the midst of a highly civilized community and not in the -heart of a virgin forest. Indeed, it was not until she had come entirely -out of the woods that her awakening took place. Then she found herself -apparently in some one’s private yard, for she stood facing a white -house set up on a hill with a tower at the top of it and queer gabled -windows on either side. At the entrance to its big front door stood two -absurd iron dogs, and yet there was nothing in any of these ordinary -details to make the onlooker turn crimson and then pale. And yet as she -stared up at the house the idea that had suddenly come to her seemed so -utterly, so absurdly impossible that surely she must be losing her -senses. - -For five minutes Olive waited without taking her gaze from the house, -and then with a shrug of her shoulders turned and walked back into the -woods. At first she paid no particular attention to what direction she -was taking until all at once, hearing footsteps not far behind, she felt -reasonably sure they were following hers. - - - - -CHAPTER II - -IN DISGRACE - - -It was ridiculous for Olive to have been so frightened with so slight -cause, yet the thought that some one might be in pursuit of her filled -her with a nervous terror. To the people not afflicted with timidity, -most fears are ridiculous, and yet no single weakness is harder to -overcome. Of the four ranch girls, Olive was the only timid one, but -before one criticizes her, remember her childhood. Now with her heart -pounding and her breath coming in short gasps, she quickened her pace -into a run, recalling at the same time their chaperon’s forgotten -instruction that she must no longer expect the happy freedom of their -western lands. But the faster the frightened girl ran the faster the -traveler back of her appeared to be following. And now Olive dared not -hide deeper in the woods, knowing that the hour was growing late and -that any added delay would make her late for breakfast. - -Many times in her life would her Indian knowledge of the woods save her -in emergencies of this sort, so in another moment she remembered that an -Indian never runs away from his pursuer, but hides until his enemy has -passed. Behind a low clump of laurel bushes the girl hid herself, -crouching low and expecting each instant to see a tramp or an armed -gamekeeper, whose business it was to keep intruders out of private -property, savagely on the lookout for her. - -Her pursuer did come on without hesitation and finally arrived just -opposite Olive’s hiding place, but then it was the girl in hiding who -suddenly sprang to her feet, startling the newcomer. For the enemy she -had so dreaded was only another girl like herself with a smile on her -face and a bundle of books under her arm. She was ten years older -perhaps, yet she looked not unlike Jacqueline Ralston before her -illness; her eyes were blue instead of gray, but she had the same bright -bronze hair and firm line to her chin and the same proud way of holding -up her head. - -“Who or what are you?” she asked Olive, “a wood nymph living in this -underbrush, for your clothes are of so nearly the same color that I did -not see you at first.” - -Olive, who was wearing a dark olive-green coat suit and a tam-o’-shanter -of velvet of the same shade, shook her head. “I am one of the new girls -from Primrose Hall and I have been out for a walk, but as I am not very -familiar with these woods, I am not just sure where I am. Would you -mind—” Her request came to an abrupt end because of the expression of -surprise and disapproval on the older girl’s face. - -“A student from Primrose Hall and outdoors alone at this hour of the -morning! How on earth did Miss Winthrop happen to give you permission?” -she asked in the positive fashion that Olive was to learn to know so -well later on. - -The first consciousness of possible wrong-doing now swept over the -truant. Could it be that in taking a walk without asking permission she -had broken a rule of her new school? The idea seemed ridiculous to -Olive, and yet—were not all things different than in the old days? “I am -so sorry, but no one gave me permission to take a walk. Was it necessary -to ask?” she inquired. “You see, we only arrived at Primrose Hall -yesterday and we—I—why, we often stay out hours before breakfast at -home, riding over the plains!” - -Olive’s innocence of offense and her distress were so plain to the older -girl that straightway she slipped her arm through hers and without delay -hurried her along toward school, talking as she went. - -“I am Jessica Hunt, the teacher of English and elocution at Primrose -Hall, and I have been spending the night with some friends.” Jessica -gave a reassuring pressure to the hand in hers. “You must not be -frightened, child, if Miss Winthrop seems rather terrifying on your -return. I used to be a pupil at Primrose Hall before I started in with -the teaching and I’m really very fond of her. Miss Winthrop isn’t so -severe as she looks, but I expect I had better tell you that it is after -breakfast time now and, as the school girls are never allowed to go out -alone and never without permission, why she may scold you a bit.” - -If only she might at this moment have dropped down in the path to weep -like a naughty child about to be punished for a fault, Olive would have -felt it a great relief, and only the thought of her age prevented her -doing this. Could she ever live through the embarrassment of facing -fifty strange girls, more than half a dozen teachers and Miss Winthrop -while she was being reprimanded. Why, yesterday just on being introduced -to Miss Winthrop, with Ruth and Jean and Frieda with her for protection, -had she not felt as tongue-tied and frightened as a silly baby? And now -must she face this stern woman alone and under the shadow of her -displeasure? - -Never as long as she lived (and the circumstances of Olive Ralston’s -life were always unusual and romantic) would she ever forget the next -half hour’s experience at Primrose Hall, nor the appearance of the great -hall as she entered it, with girls and teachers grouped about, and -towering above everything and everybody, the tall, commanding presence -of its principal, Miss Katherine Winthrop. - -Almost without her own volition Olive found herself standing in front of -Miss Winthrop, Jessica’s arm still through hers, heard the teacher of -mathematics say, “Here is your new runaway pupil with Miss Hunt,” and -realized that this teacher, whom she had disliked yesterday because she -wore round spectacles and dressed like a man, wished not so much to get -her into trouble as to involve Jessica in her disgrace. - -But Jessica was not in the least disturbed, being the only teacher at -Primrose Hall not afraid of its owner. “Miss Winthrop,” she now began -coaxingly, “I have brought our new girl home. She was only taking a walk -in the woods near by, but I am sure she would rather explain to you -herself that in going out without permission she did not know she was -breaking a school rule. You see, she has lived always in the West and -been accustomed to such perfect freedom—” Jessica was continuing her -case for the defendant, realizing that Olive was still too frightened to -speak for herself. But suddenly Miss Hunt was thrust aside by a small, -plump person, with the longest yellow braids and the biggest blue eyes -in the school, and without the least regard for either teachers or -principal, Frieda Ralston now flung her arms about Olive. - -“For goodness sake, why didn’t you tell Jean and me where you were -going?” she demanded. “We have been so frightened about you.” - -And then before Olive could reply, another girl stood at her other side, -a girl with dark brown hair, a pale skin and demure brown eyes, whose -nose had the faintest, most delicious tilt at the end of it. Jean Bruce -said nothing, but she looked ready and anxious to defend her friend -against all the world. - -Surrounding the little group of ranch girls and the three teachers were -numbers of other students, most of whom were casting glances of sympathy -at the new pupil who had so soon fallen into disgrace. Breakfast just -over, they were supposedly on their way upstairs to their own rooms, but -Olive’s entrance with Jessica had interrupted them and until Miss -Winthrop spoke no one had stirred. - -“You may go to your own apartments now, girls,” she said quietly. “Miss -Ralston will explain her absence to me in my private study.” As her -words and look included Jean and Frieda, they also were compelled to -follow the other students up the broad mahogany stairs, leaving Olive to -face her fate alone. Only one girl with short curly hair and a freckled -nose actually had the courage to stop in passing and whisper to the -offender: - -“Fare thee well, light of my life, farewell. For crimes unknown you go -to a dungeon cell,” she chanted. Then while Olive was trying to summon a -smile in return, a beautiful girl with pale blonde hair joined both of -them, and drawing the other girl away, said loud enough for a dozen -persons near by to overhear: “Oh, do come on upstairs, Gerry. When will -you learn not to be friendly to objectionable persons whom no one knows -anything about?” And so cool and indifferent did her expression appear -as she made her unkind speech that it was hard to believe she understood -that her words could be overheard. But Olive Ralston heard them and in -spite of her gentleness never in after years forgot or forgave them. - -A minute or so later, when everybody else had disappeared, Olive found -herself alone in Miss Winthrop’s study, seated in a comfortable leather -chair facing a desk at which Miss Winthrop was writing. - -“I will talk to you in a few minutes,” she had said as they entered the -room, and at first the prisoner had felt that waiting to hear her -sentence would be unendurable. Of course she would be expelled from -Primrose Hall; Olive had no other idea. And of course Ruth and Jack -would understand and forgive her, but there would be no going back on -her part to be a burden and disgrace to them. Somehow she must find work -to support herself in the future! - -But as time passed on and Miss Winthrop continued with her writing, by -and by Olive’s attention wandered from her own sorrows and she busied -herself in studying her judge’s face. Miss Winthrop’s expression was not -so stern in repose, for though the lines about her mouth were severe and -her nose aquiline, her forehead was high and broad and her dark eyes -full of dignity and purpose. And then her figure. Olive felt obliged to -admit that though she was taller and larger than almost any woman she -had known, her grace and dignity were most unusual and the severity of -her simple black silk gown showed her to great advantage. - -Weary of scrutinizing the older woman, Olive’s eyes next traveled idly -to the top of Miss Winthrop’s desk, resting there for an eager moment, -while in her interest she forgot everything else. For the first time in -her life this young girl, who had seen nothing of the World of art, had -her attention arrested by one of the world’s great masterpieces. - -On Miss Winthrop’s desk there stood a cast of an heroic figure of a -woman with broad, beautiful shoulders and wonderful flowing draperies. -The figure was without head or arms and yet was so inspiring that, -without realizing it, Olive gave a sigh of delight. - -Straightway Miss Winthrop glanced up. “You like my cast?” she asked -quickly. “Do you know that it is a copy of the statue of ‘The Winged -Victory,’ ‘The Nike’? The real statue now stands at the top of the -stairs in the Louvre in Paris and there you will probably see it some -day. But I like to keep the figure here as a kind of inspiration to me -and to my girls. For to me ‘The Victory’ means so much more than the -statue of a woman. It stands, I think, as the emblem of the superwoman, -what all we women must hope to be some day. See the beauty and dignity -of her, as though she had turned her back on all sin and injustice and -was moving forward into a new world of light. I like to believe that the -splendid lost arms of the Nike carried the world’s children in them.” - -Of course Miss Winthrop realized that she was talking above the head of -her new pupil, but she wished an opportunity to study the girl’s face. -Now she saw by its sudden glow and softening that she had caught at -least a measure of her meaning. - -“Girls, girls, girls.” Sometimes Miss Winthrop felt that the world held -nothing else and that she knew all the varieties, and yet one could -never be too sure, for here before her was a new type unlike all the -others and for some reason at this moment she attracted her strongly. - -To Miss Winthrop alone at Primrose Hall Ruth Drew had thought it wise to -confide as much as they knew of Olive’s extraordinary history, pledging -her to secrecy. Now to herself Miss Winthrop said: “It is utterly -ridiculous to believe this child has Indian blood, for there is -absolutely nothing in her appearance to indicate it. I believe that her -history is far more curious than her friends suppose.” - -But to Olive, of course, she said nothing of this, for after her first -speech her manner appeared to change entirely. Sitting very erect in her -chair, she turned upon her pupil “You may go,” she said coldly, “for I -understand that by your action this morning you did not deliberately -intend to break one of my rules. But kindly be more careful in the -future, for I am not accustomed to overlooking disobedience, whatever -its cause.” - -With a sigh of relief Olive straightway fled into the hall, wondering if -she could ever like this Miss Winthrop, who could be so stern one moment -and so interesting the next. For her own part Olive felt that she much -preferred their former chaperon, Ruth Drew, for if Ruth were less -handsome and perhaps not so cultivated, she was at least more human. If -only they were all back at the Rainbow Ranch with Ruth to scold and pet -them for their misdoings all in the same breath. - - - - -CHAPTER III - -“GERRY” - - -The three ranch girls had their set of apartments toward the front of -the house on the second floor at Primrose Hall, so in order for Olive to -reach her room it was necessary that she should pass along a long -corridor into which various other apartments opened. She was not -interested in anything but the one thought of finding Frieda and Jean, -and yet, hurrying by an open door, she was obliged to overhear a -conversation between two girls who were talking in rather loud tones. - -“I don’t care, Winifred Graham, whether you like it or not,” one of the -voices asserted, “but I certainly intend to be as nice to these new -Western girls as I know how. They are strangers and I think it horrid to -try to snub them just because you think perhaps they are not so rich and -fashionable as the rest of the Primrose girls. I suppose you will try to -turn as many of the other Juniors against them as you can twist around -your finger, but kindly don’t include me in your list. Perhaps you think -I don’t know why you have had me for one of your chums for so long. -Goodness, child, I am not so foolish as I look; it is because I am -homely as a mud fence, so when I’m around you’re more the stately beauty -than ever in contrast with poor little me. But maybe you won’t always be -thought the prettiest girl in the school, for this queer looking Olive, -what’s her name, is as good looking as you are in an odd, foreign way, -and the brown-eyed one named Jean Bruce goes you a close second. If you -are angry with me, why you need not have me for a roommate, for I am -going this very second to call on the new ranch girls and welcome them -to Primrose Hall.” And with a flounce the same short-haired girl who had -stopped to tease Olive earlier that morning, now ran along the hall -after her, slipping her arm through hers in the friendliest of fashions. -“Please’m, may I come and make you a call?” she inquired, “for I have -been several years at Primrose Hall and know the place like an old shoe. -Besides, I think that you and the older one of your sisters or friends, -I can’t guess your relation, must be going to be in our Junior class, -and I tell you we Juniors have to stick close together these days.” - -By this time the two girls had arrived before Olive’s door, but hearing -queer noises in another room, they followed the sounds, discovering Jean -and Frieda in the adjoining chamber, which was to be the ranch girls’ -sitting room. An immediate introduction was difficult because both Jean -and Frieda were apparently standing on their heads inside the trunk of -their Indian curios. They were not alone, for two sisters, Mollie and -Lucy Johnson, from across the hall, had come in to lend them hammer and -nails and were now watching them with deep absorption. - -“Jean, Frieda,” Olive exclaimed, “this is—” and then she stopped in some -confusion, remembering that she had not yet heard their new friend’s -name. - -The two ranch girls came forth from the trunk in time to see their new -visitor smiling at them. “I am Geraldine Ferrows, at your service,” she -explained, “but I’m better known to the world as Gerry. See I have -brought your Olive safe back from the lion’s den and, as she is no more -eaten up than was the prophet Daniel, why it proves that she’s a saint -to start with. I wonder if you would care to have me tell you about -Primrose Hall and what we are expected to do and what not to do?” - -Olive, Frieda and Mollie and Lucy Johnson nodded thankfully, but Jean -closed her lips and hardly appeared to have heard the question. She was -not accustomed to feeling out of things as she had this morning and was -not sure she cared to have strangers making an effort to be kind. -Suppose this Geraldine Ferrows was one of the old students and said to -be one of the cleverest if not the cleverest of the girls, well even -that gave her no right to be patronizing to them! - -But Gerry, apparently not observing Jean’s unfriendliness and having -already taken a fancy to her, as strangers usually did, now seated -herself cross-legged on the floor, beckoning to the others to follow -suit. “All Gaul, my children, is divided into three parts, as we learn -in our Latin book,” she said gayly, “but Primrose Hall, I regret to say, -is divided into only two parts, the girls Winifred Graham likes and the -girls she docs not. I used to belong to the first class, but now I -probably belong to the second. I was kind of in love with Winifred last -year and let her boss me around, but during the summer I thought things -over and decided to strike. When she was so horrid to a stranger this -morning it seemed to me the time was ripe. She won’t care a snap about -my desertion, for she never cares for people unless they are rich and -I’m not a bit, only my father is a famous surgeon in New York and I’m -going to be a doctor myself some day, since I’m too homely for any kind -gentleman to marry. I suppose it is because Winifred thought you girls -didn’t look rich that—” And instantly Gerry bit her lively tongue, -pretending not to be able to say anything more, although Jean was gazing -at her in a more encouraging fashion than she had worn at the beginning -of her speech. - -All the way across the continent from Wyoming to New York City the four -ranch girls, Ruth, and their English friend, Frank Kent, had discussed -this question: Should the girls on arriving at boarding school speak of -their new-found gold mine to their new acquaintances? Ruth and Jack -advised against it, Olive had no pronounced opinion, Frieda and Frank -thought they might as well mention it now and then, while Jean was -determined to speak of their gold mine whenever the chance offered and -to make the biggest impression she possibly could. So now it was -surprising to hear Jean say with a slight flush in the healthy pallor of -her clear skin: “No, we wouldn’t wish any one at Primrose Hall to care -for us because of our wealth—or lack of it,” she answered demurely; “so -I am afraid Miss Graham and her friends will not like us any too well. -You see, we are simply ranch girls and will have to stand or fall by -that. I suppose this Miss Graham decided that we were poor because our -clothes are so simple and we haven’t thirteen trunks apiece as most of -the girls here have. Olive and I were laughing yesterday because on our -arrival we were given United States lock boxes for our jewels. Jewels! -why we haven’t any except a few trinkets and two or three keepsakes that -belong to Olive!” And Jean frowned and shook her head warningly at -Frieda, whose eyes were bigger and bluer than ever and whose lips were -about to form the name of the Rainbow Mine. Jumping up in order to -divert her attention, Jean ran across to their trunk of Indian relics -and diving down into it again, came forth with three pretty Indian -baskets. “Won’t each one of you take one of these baskets to remind you -that you were our first callers at Primrose Hall and we hope our first -friends,” she said prettily, handing a basket to Gerry and then the -others to the two sisters. But all the while Jean was talking and acting -this little pantomime, inside of her something kept repeating: “Jack was -right and we don’t want to be liked for our money. We will find out who -the really nice girls are at Primrose Hall and then—” Well, it was -comfortable to recall that in Jim’s last letter, written after they had -left the ranch, he had said the pot of gold from the end of their -Rainbow Mine had yielded five thousand dollars within the month just -past and that there appeared to be plenty more gold where that had come -from. - -Suddenly a great bell sounded close by and five girls started with -surprise, only Geraldine Ferrows remaining perfectly calm. Getting up -from the floor, however, she stuck her Indian basket on her head for a -hat, using the handle as a strap. - -“Tidy your hair, young women, and come along over to the recitation -hall. That was not an alarm of fire that just sounded, only a gentle -reminder that we are to assemble within the next ten minutes to meet our -teachers and to get ready our schedules of work for the next quarter. I -can only hope that all of you are as wise as you are beautiful, for -Primrose Hall is no cinch.” Gerry was marching out of the room to the -tune of “Tommy Atkins,” when Jean called after her: “You were awfully -good to come in to see us and we are obliged to you, so please help us -out whenever you can. I am afraid that the things we know, such as -riding bareback and raising cattle and shooting straight, won’t be -considered accomplishments at boarding school.” And Jean looked -unusually humble and particularly pretty. - -Gerry laughed. “Don’t worry, we are none too learned ourselves at -Primrose Hall, for we keep all varieties of insects here, butterflies as -well as bookworms. But I will say for Miss Winthrop, that though this is -a fashionable school, she does try to make us mind our Q’s as well as -our P’s.” - -Frieda was never born to understand a joke. “Please, what does it mean -‘To mind our P’s and Q’s?’” she inquired solemnly. - -“Oh, P’s stand for parties and politeness and primping and how to enter -a room and what to say when you get there and all the things that mean -Society with a big S, Miss Frieda Ralston,” Gerry returned. “But Q’s, -Q’s are dreadful things called Quizzes, and you will pretty soon find -out what quizzing means, particularly if you happen to be in the -mathematics class taught by the female who rejoices in the delicious -name of Miss Rebecca Sterne. But really, Frieda, if you want to know the -truth about the meaning of the old expression, ‘mind your P’s and Q’s,’ -the Century Dictionary tells us that the expression alluded to the -difficulty in the early days of discerning the difference between the -two letters.” And with this last bit of wisdom and a shake of her curly -head, Gerry really vanished from the ranch girls’ room. - - - - -CHAPTER IV - -GETTING INTO HARNESS - - -Two weeks had elapsed since the arrival of the three ranch girls at -boarding school and so many changes appeared to have taken place in -their lives that already the weeks seemed as many months. One of the -changes they themselves did not realize, but nevertheless it was a -serious one, for Jean, Frieda and Olive were no longer so intimate as -they had been in the old days at Rainbow Lodge. Each girl was going her -own way, keeping her own confidence, forming new friendships and -apparently forgetting the importance of past ties. - -And of the three girls it was Frieda who had become the most -emancipated. Having conceived a tremendous devotion for Mollie Johnson, -the two girls were rarely apart. Lucy Johnson was a good deal older than -Frieda, but Mollie was a year younger than the youngest Miss Ralston and -looked up to her as the most wonderful person in the world, insisting -that the stories Frieda told of her life on the ranch made her appear -like a heroine in a book. Now Frieda was tired of being treated like a -baby by her family, and besides, as no one had ever told her before that -she was in the least like a heroine, she found the idea distinctly -pleasant. The two Johnson sisters were from Richmond, Virginia, and had -vivacious manners and soft southern voices. Mollie was small and dark -and fluttered about like a little brown bird, such a complete contrast -to Frieda’s fairness and slow movements that it was small wonder the two -girls were drawn together by their very unlikeness and that already -their schoolmates were calling them the Siamese twins, because they went -everywhere together with their arms locked about one another, wore one -another’s clothes when their different sizes permitted, and were never -without true lover’s knots of blue ribbon tied in their buttonholes, -knots made from a sacrificial division of all Frieda’s best hair -ribbons. Not that hair ribbons interested their owner any further, for -the fifth day after Frieda’s arrival at boarding school, and in spite of -Jean’s and Olive’s objections, her long braids had disappeared and in -their place a Pysche knot of huge proportions could be seen at the back -of her head. The Psyche knot was not becoming, because its wearer did -not have a Greek face, but it was grown up and the latest fashion and of -course nothing else really matters. As Frieda’s school work was not the -same as Jean’s and Olive’s, on account of her age and the fact that she -never had cared much about books, the division of her time was different -from theirs, so perhaps it was but natural that in the excitement of her -first independence and without Jack’s influence, she should be for the -first time in her life “ganging her own gait.” - -But with Jean Bruce the change was even more subtle and more -unconscious. Why, Jean and Olive had actually laughed together over -Frieda’s desertion of them and all the while they were laughing, though -she had said nothing, Olive was wondering if Jean did not know that she -saw almost as little of her as she did of Frieda these days. Without -realizing it or having made any special effort, Jean Bruce, two weeks -after her arrival at Primrose Hall, was one of the most popular girls in -the school. As a proof of it she had already been invited to join both -the two sororities and had not made up her mind which one she should -choose. The fact that Winifred Graham belonged to the “Kappa” sorority -certainly influenced Jean in the direction of the “Theta,” for from the -hour of Geraldine Ferrows’ revelation of Winifred’s character there had -been open war between Winifred and Jean. Of course, Winifred’s rudeness -to Olive was the first cause of Jean’s offense, but now Olive was almost -forgotten and overlooked in their personal rivalry. It was an open -discussion that the choice for Junior class president, which must be -made before the Christmas holidays, would lie between these two girls. -For though Jean had continued her masquerade of poverty, the best girls -in the school had not been influenced by it. Indeed, Jean’s closest -friend, Margaret Belknap, belonged to one of the oldest and wealthiest -families in New York City, people who looked down upon the Four Hundred -as belonging to the dreadful “new rich.” - -But while school life was apparently moving so pleasantly for Jean and -Frieda, Olive, for some unexplained reason, was making no friends. -Though it was customary to invite the new girls at Primrose Hall into -one or the other of the secret societies almost immediately upon their -arrival at school, Olive had not yet been chosen for either sorority. -Too shy and sensitive to mention it even to her best friends, she did -not dream that Jean was unaware of the slights put upon her. Only in -secret Olive suffered tortures, wondering if her blood showed itself so -plainly that her classmates disliked her for that reason or if she were -more unattractive than all other girls. Still her beloved Jack, who was -finer and more beautiful than anybody in the world, had cared for her -and if only the doctors would say that Jack was strong enough to join -them at Primrose Hall, nothing else would make any difference! Letters -from Ruth Drew and now and then one from Peter Drummond had assured the -girls that Jack was doing as well as could be expected, but as yet there -had been no definite report from the surgeon? - -However, if Olive Ralston had so far made no friends among her -classmates, there were other persons in the school interested in her, -who were more important. Among them was Jessica Hunt, the young teacher -whom Olive had met on the morning of her unfortunate walk. There was -something in the strange girl’s shyness and gentle dignity that made a -strong appeal to Jessica, and though she had so far no opportunity to -reveal her friendliness, she had noticed the slights put upon Olive and -was trying her best to discover their cause. Some secret story might -possibly be in circulation about the newcomer, but so far Jessica had -not been able to find it out. - -One Friday afternoon Olive had been alone in their sitting room for -several hours. Always books had been her consolation for loneliness -since the days when her only white friend had been the teacher in the -Indian school in her village, yet nevertheless, hearing an unexpected -knock at the door, her face brightened. “Jean is sending for me to join -her somewhere perhaps,” she thought happily, but on opening the door her -eyes had widened with surprise. - -“Please, may I come in? I’m not a teacher this afternoon: I am a -visitor,” Jessica Hunt had said at once. “I have been looking for you -everywhere in the garden and at the sorority houses and on the verandas. -To quote Mr. Kipling, ‘over the world and under the world and back at -the last to you,’ here in your sitting room. Why aren’t you with the -other girls?” Knowing what she did, perhaps Jessica’s question to Olive -may seem cruel, yet she asked it hoping that Olive might confide in her -the unfriendliness of her classmates. Then they might talk the matter -over sensibly together and she might be able to help. But alas for -Olive! Though Ruth had warned her to try to overcome her reserve that -day of the flower fortunes in Yellowstone Park, she was yet unable to -give her confidence to any one but Jack! So now she only answered Miss -Hunt quietly: “It is because I am stupider than the other girls that I -have to stay in my room to study more. But I am through with my work now -and awfully glad to see you,” and Olive’s rather misty smile of welcome -revealed more of her real feeling than any number of words. - -Once inside the ranch girls’ sitting room, Jessica Hunt gave a little -cry of admiration and surprise. “Why, no wonder you don’t wish to be -outdoors,” she exclaimed, “for this is the most charming girls’ room at -Primrose Hall! It makes me think of that same poem of Kipling’s which I -was misquoting a minute ago, ‘The Gypsy Trail.’ You must read it some -day when you’re older, for you look like a Romany maid yourself. And -surely in this room at least ‘the east and the west are one.’” - -Truly the ranch girls’ sitting room was indeed what they had dreamed of -making it in the last days at home, a bit of the Rainbow Lodge in -miniature, their own beloved ranch house living room reproduced many -miles across the continent. By Ruth’s request Miss Winthrop had allotted -to the three ranch girls a large and almost empty room, containing only -a divan, a few chairs and low bookshelves. Now the floor was covered -with half a dozen gayly colored Indian rugs, bright shawls were thrown -over the divan, piled with sofa cushions of leather and silk, and on the -walls were prints of Indian heads, one of them a picture of a young girl -looking singularly like Olive, and several Remington drawings of cowboys -on lonely western plains. Over the open fireplace, about one-fourth the -size of the one at The Lodge, was the head of an elk shot by Jim Colter -himself on the border of their own ranch, and on the mantel the very -brass candlesticks that belonged on the mantelpiece at home, besides -several pieces of Indian crockery, the ancient ornaments discovered by -Frieda in the Indian cave on the day when Olive had made her first -appearance in the ranch girls’ lives. - -But when Jessica had seen the beauties of the sitting room she began at -once to look more closely at the few photographs which the ranch girls -had placed on top of their bookshelves, knowing that there is no quicker -way to learn to understand and enter the heart of a school girl than by -taking an interest in her photographs. Of course, these must represent -the persons nearest and dearest, their families and closest friends. - -The ranch girls had not a very large collection of pictures, only an -absurd one of Jim, taken at Laramie as a farewell present to them, but -as he wore a stiff collar and shirt and his Sunday clothes, it was not -in the least like their big, splendidly handsome friend. Next Jim’s was -one of Ruth and alongside that one of Frank Kent, but almost -instinctively Jessica’s hand reached forth to pick up a photograph of a -girl on horseback and at the same instant she touched Olive’s heart. - -“Who is this beautiful girl?” she asked quickly. “She is just the type -of girl I admire the most, so graceful and vigorous and with such a lot -of character. Oh, I hope I haven’t said anything I shouldn’t,” she ended -suddenly, seeing that Olive’s eyes had filled with tears. - -Olive shook her head. “No, it’s all right, only Jack isn’t vigorous any -more.” And then, to her own surprise and relief, Olive poured forth the -whole story of Jack’s accident and their reasons for coming east. - -Strange, and yet no stranger than the same kind of thing that takes -place every day, but just as Olive was on the point of telling Miss Hunt -that she expected each day to hear more definite news of Jack, a message -was sent upstairs to her from the office. A visitor was in the reception -room desiring to see the Misses Ralston and Miss Bruce at once. Would -Olive find the other girls and come to the reception room immediately? - -With but one thought in her mind, that it must be Ruth Drew who had come -to tell them that Jack was better, Olive, with a hurried apology to -Jessica, begging her to wait until her return, fled out, of her room -down through the lower part of the house and then out into the school -grounds to search for Jean and Frieda, for much as she yearned to run at -once to Ruth, it would be too selfish not to let the other girls hear -the good news with her. - -And Jessica Hunt was glad enough to be left alone in the ranch girls’ -room for a few minutes longer, for standing near the photograph of -Jacqueline Ralston was another photograph whose presence in the room -puzzled her greatly. She did not feel that she had the right to ask -curious questions and yet she must look at this picture more closely, -for the exact, copy of it was at this moment lying in her own bureau -drawer between folds of lavender-scented silk. - - - - -CHAPTER V - -NEWS AND A DISCOVERY - - -Jean and Frieda were not to be found on either of the two great side -porches, where the Primrose Hall girls spent many recreation hours on -these warm Indian summer afternoons, but just in front of the sorority -house with “Theta” engraved above the door, Olive spied Jean surrounded -by a dozen girls. She was talking in a very animated fashion and had her -back turned so that she did not see Olive, who started to run toward her -and then hesitated and flushed. Each girl in the group was known to her -by name, all of them were Juniors and her classmates and yet not one of -them, except Geraldine Ferrows, had ever voluntarily held five minutes’ -conversation with her. Did she have the courage now to thrust herself -among them and to interrupt Jean? Only the thought that Ruth must be -waiting for them with news of Jack braced her. “Jean,” Olive called -softly and then in a louder tone, “Jean!” - -At once Jean swung round, but at the same moment twelve other pairs of -eyes stared poor Olive up and down. - -“Oh, I am so glad you have come, Olive,” Jean exclaimed, her brown eyes -shining with enthusiasm, “for it has all been arranged that I am to join -the ‘Theta’ Society and I do hope that you will come in with me. Then we -are going to form a dramatic club in our sorority and after a little -while give a perfectly stunning play. I am sure the girls will want you -to take part in it, for you see Olive can act better than any one of us, -or at least she used to when we had charades at Rainbow Lodge.” Jean -paused, feeling a peculiar change in the atmosphere about her. Would no -one echo her invitation to Olive? And why had her friends drawn away in -silence unless something was the matter, for Olive was standing right -before them with her cheeks crimson and biting her lips to hide their -trembling? - -Jean stamped her foot with a flash of her old anger. “If you think for -an instant, Margaret Belknap,” she said, turning to her best friend in -the little company, a tall, distinguished, but plain-looking girl, “that -I will be in things and do things without Olive, why—” But Olive took -Jean softly by the arm. “Please don’t say anything, dear,” she -whispered, and then as Jean caught the message she had come to give her, -without further thought of anything or anybody at Primrose Hall, the two -friends hurried off together. Jean was not so conscientious about trying -to find Frieda, but leaving word with the maids to send her after them, -in a few moments the two girls appeared at the reception room door. - -“Ruth, you darling,” they called in chorus and then turned white faces -to stare at each other and at the tall figure that rose to greet them -holding Frieda’s hand in one of his. “It is Peter Drummond, gooseys; -don’t you know him?” Frieda cried happily. “Some one told me we had a -caller and I came in here expecting to find some strange, horrid -visitor, and when I saw Peter I forgot I wasn’t a little girl any longer -and most hugged him. You might say you think it good of him to come to -see us,” she ended, rather crossly. - -“We thought you were Ruth, Mr. Drummond,” Jean replied, coming to -herself sooner than Olive, “but of course we are terribly glad it is -you; only—why—the truth is, we expected Ruth to be able to tell us that -Jack was better or something. Just think, we haven’t seen old Jack in -weeks, ages it seems.” Jean put out her hand to take hold of their -friend’s when Olive spoke: “I think Mr. Drummond has come to tell us -about Jack instead of Ruth,” she said in a slightly strained voice. “I -am afraid that Jack isn’t so well as we hoped she would be and Ruth -couldn’t leave her. Won’t she ever be able to walk again like other -people? Have the doctors said? Tell us, please, quickly what has brought -you to see us, for anything is better than suspense.” And still for a -second Peter Drummond did not reply. - -The first cause of his silence was that Frieda, entirely surprised at -Olive’s interpretation of his visit, had unexpectedly burst into tears. - -“Come now,” Mr. Drummond said finally, patting Frieda’s hand, “it isn’t -so bad as all this. Olive did guess the truth and I have come to tell -you about Jack. Perhaps she isn’t so well as we hoped, for she can’t -join you at school just at present or get about very much. The fact is—” -Mr. Drummond cleared his throat, “well, the surgeons are not quite sure -of Jack’s condition yet and must wait a while longer and keep her very -quiet before they can decide. But I saw her a minute the other day and -she and Ruth send you their love and Jack hopes boarding school isn’t so -dreadful as she thinks it must be and— Why doesn’t some one else say -something, for never before in my life have I been with three women and -had to do all the talking?” And Peter, with a man’s embarrassment at -being the bearer of ill news, looked at the ranch girls with pretended -indignation. - -“Are you sure you have told us the truth, Mr. Drummond?” Jean asked, and -their visitor, not in the least offended by the question, emphatically -bowed his head. - -Jean turned to the other two girls. “Then Olive and Frieda, I don’t -think we need be frightened,” she said stoutly, “though of course we are -terribly disappointed at not having Jack here at school with us, I have -always felt she would be well some day. Even if the surgeons should say -she won’t, my money is on old Jack!” - -Instantly Frieda’s face cleared at Jean’s courageous attitude, though -Olive looked considerably depressed. But at this minute Mr. Drummond, to -divert everybody’s attention, turned toward Frieda. “Will somebody tell -me, please, what is the trouble with the youngest Miss Ralston, for if -two weeks at boarding school can affect her like this, What will a whole -year do?” - -Instinctively Frieda’s hand went up to her Psyche knot. “Don’t tell Jack -and Ruth,” she begged, and then, tossing her blonde head: “Oh, tell away -if you like, Peter Drummond. I haven’t any disease, if that’s what you -mean; I am just not a baby any longer.” - -Peter’s expression was a funny mixture of gravity and amusement. “If -it’s old age that is afflicting you, Frieda,” he said pulling at his own -heavy iron-gray hair, “then you’ve got about the worst disease in the -world and the most incurable, but I didn’t really think it was apt to -overtake one at fifteen.” Seeing that Frieda looked injured, he turned -again to Olive and Jean. “The Harmons have been awfully nice to Jack and -Ruth and they are coming out here to see you pretty soon. There is a -queer old house in this neighborhood where an old relative of theirs -lives. The house is supposed to be haunted, or at least there is some -mystery about it. I wonder if you girls have seen it?” - -“I have,” Olive answered quickly and Jean laughed. - -“How on the face of the earth do you know you have seen the place Peter -is describing, Olive?” Jean questioned, “for he hasn’t told you the name -of it or what it looks like or anything to identify it.” - -Olive looked puzzled. “Yes, I know it is funny, but it is a place called -‘The Towers,’ with a high tower at the top of it and a balcony and queer -little windows.” Quite unconsciously Olive had closed her eyes, because -for some strange reason she seemed to be able to recall the house she -had seen on the morning of her early walk better with her eyes closed. - -Mr. Drummond smiled at her. “Olive is right, the place is called ‘The -Towers.’ I remember now,” he repeated. “I wonder if because Olive is -perhaps a gypsy or an Indian, she is going to be a fortune teller.” But -because Olive’s face had crimsoned at his speech his tone changed. “My -dear Olive, suppose you are half Indian, why on earth should you care? -There isn’t the least disgrace in it, is there?” And Olive noticed that -Mr. Drummond’s speech ended with a question. - -But he had now risen, picking up from the table near him a large box and -a small one. The large box he handed to Jean. “You are please to conceal -this from the powers that be, if it’s against boarding school laws to -eat candy,” he said and then stood turning the smaller box about in his -hand, surveying it thoughtfully. “This is a gift to you girls from -Jack,” he remarked finally. “Miss Drew tells me it contains a great -surprise, and as I haven’t the faintest idea what is inside of it, may I -be present at its opening?” - -The girls allowed Frieda to tear off the paper covering outside the -parcel. Inside a white velvet box was revealed which opened with a -spring. Instantly Frieda touched this spring there were three cries of -“Oh,” followed by a moment’s silence. On the white satin lining of the -box were three crescent-shaped pins as large in circumference as a -quarter. The pins were composed of seven lovely jewels shading from red -to pale violet. Each girl took her gift from the box, regarding it with -characteristic expressions. Jean’s eyes were dancing with delight, the -dimple showing at the corner of her mouth, Frieda’s blue eyes were bluer -than ever and her cheeks pinker, while Olive’s eyes were overclouded and -her face quivered with pleasure. - -[Illustration: THERE WERE THREE CRIES OF “OH,” FOLLOWED BY A MOMENT’S -SILENCE] - -“They are the loveliest things I ever saw in my life and the grandest, -and now Jean won’t be able to pretend we are poor any more,” Frieda -announced. - -“Ah, but maybe Jack is a fairy godmother, and even poor girls may have -fairy godmothers,” Jean teased. - -“I think none of us have guessed yet what Jack intends our gifts to -suggest,” Olive added slowly, her eyes still resting on the glowing -colors of the jeweled pins. “Don’t you see, Mr. Drummond, that our pins -represent rainbows? I have been repeating the rainbow colors to -myself—red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet. And here are -seven jewels of the same colors in our pins.” - -Peter Drummond took Olive’s pin in his own hand. “Right you are, and -Jack has beaten me at my own game. For I have been collecting jewels all -my life and never thought of so pretty an idea as this. Here is a garnet -to start with for the red, then a topaz for the orange, a yellow diamond -next, an emerald for the green, a sapphire for blue, a blue opal for -indigo and last of all an amethyst for the last shade of violet.” - -“They are to make us think of the ranch and the lodge and the mine and -all the good things that have come to us through a rainbow,” Jean said -thoughtfully and then more huskily, “I guess Jack is pretty homesick.” -Frieda made a dive toward the floor at this moment, rising up with a -piece of paper in her hand. “This fell out of the jewel case when I -opened it, but I hadn’t time to pick it up then,” she announced. “Oh, -goodness gracious, Jack, of all people, has written us a poem!” And -Frieda read: - - “Here are seven colors in nature and art, - What I think they mean I wish you from my heart; - Here’s red, that good courage may fill you each day - And orange and yellow to shine on your way. - Here’s green for the ocean to bear us afar - To some lovely blue land ’neath an opal star. - And yet to the end shall we ever forget - Our own prairie fields of pale violet?” - -“It is a rather hard poem to understand, but it rhymes pretty well,” -Frieda ended doubtfully. - -Olive’s loyalty left no room for criticism. “It’s beautiful, I think. -And I know what Jack means at the end. If we ever do go to Europe, as we -sometimes have planned, we must never forget the Rainbow Ranch. You -know, Frieda dear, that the alfalfa clover is violet and not pink and -white like the clover in the east.” - -But the poem could not be further unraveled because Mr. Drummond had now -to tear himself away in order to catch his train back to New York. -Hurrying out into the hall, with the three ranch girls close behind him, -he suddenly came to an abrupt stop. He had nearly run into a young -woman, who also stood still, staring at him with reproachful blue eyes -and a haughtily held head. - -“Peter, that is, Mr. Drummond, how could you come down here when I told -you not to?” the girls heard Jessica Hunt say with the least little -nervous tremor in her voice. - -Mr. Drummond bowed to her coldly. “I am very sorry, Jessica, Miss Hunt,” -he returned coldly, “but I had not the faintest idea of seeing you at -Primrose Hall. You do not know it, but the ranch girls are my very dear -friends and my visit was solely to them.” Peter was moving majestically -away when a hand was laid for the briefest instant on his coat sleeve. -This time a humbler voice said, “Forgive me, Peter, I might have known -you would never trouble to come to see me again.” - -That evening as the ranch girls were dressing for dinner Jean poked her -head in Olive’s room. “Olive Ralston, has it ever occurred to you that -Peter Drummond may have recommended Primrose Hall to us because a -certain young woman named Jessica Hunt taught here? Men folks is deep, -child, powerful deep, but as the book says, ‘we shall see what we shall -see.’ I wonder, though, why girls and men can’t fall in love and get -married without such a lot of fussing and misunderstanding. Think how -Ruth is treating poor Jim! When I fall in love I am not going to be so -silly and tiresome. I am just going to say yes and thank you too and -let’s get married next week.” Jean’s face was very serious for the -moment and also very bewitching. - -But Olive answered her with the voice of prophecy. “Jean Bruce, you will -have the hardest time of us all in making up your mind when you are in -love.” - - - - -CHAPTER VI - -HER TEMPTATION - - -Face to face with her first serious temptation stood Jean Bruce. Always -beyond anything else had she desired to be popular, even in the old days -at the ranch when the only society in which she had a part was composed -of the few neighbors in riding distance of the Lodge. But here at -Primrose Hall was her first real opportunity to gratify her heart’s -desire, and would she for the sake of another be compelled to give it -up? For how could she accept the honor that might be bestowed upon her -of being chosen for Junior class president without turning traitor to -Olive. After her friends’ treatment of Olive in front of the “Theta” -house on the afternoon of Peter Drummond’s visit, Jean could no longer -shut her eyes to Olive’s unpopularity. What was the cause of it? Try as -she might she could not find out, yet the prejudice was certainly deeper -than any one could suppose. Suspecting Winifred Graham to be at the -bottom of the mischief, Jean kept a close watch upon her, but if she had -circulated any story against Olive no one would confess it. “Miss -Ralston is so shy and queer, her appearance is so odd, I do not think -she enjoys being with other girls,” these evasions of the truth were all -Jean could get hold of. But in the meantime there was no doubt that -Olive’s classmates absolutely refused to have her in either of the two -sororities and that this insult was almost unprecedented in the history -of Primrose Hall. Of course, Jean might have appealed to Miss Winthrop -or one of the other teachers, asking that their influence be exerted in -Olive’s behalf, but this for Olive’s own sake she was unwilling to do. -For even if Olive should be forced into one of the sororities, how would -it change her classmates’ attitude toward her? Would it not make them -more unkind than ever? No, there were only two courses open to Jean, -either she must join the sorority she had chosen without any question of -Olive’s being a member or else she must decline to be admitted herself -until such time as the girls should come to their senses and voluntarily -desire the election of them both. - -Of course, if membership in one or the other of the two sororities had -been Jean’s only dilemma there had been small excuse for her hesitation. -But a larger issue was at stake. Unless she became a member of a -sorority and as one of its leaders could influence new girls to her -cause, she might lose the Junior presidency and Winifred Graham, the -head of the Kappa organization, would surely be chosen in her stead. - -Jean had won her way to her present popularity in a very charming -fashion, just by the power of her own personality, which is after all -the greatest force in the world. She had no prominent family -connections, as so many of the Primrose Hall girls had, and she -continued to act as though she had no money except what was necessary -for very simple requirements. Indeed, she behaved as she must have done -had the ranch girls come east to boarding school before the discovery of -the gold mine of Rainbow Creek. But it was a hard fight and many times -the young girl longed to break faith with herself. - -Before setting out on their journey, after a careful reading of the -Primrose Hall catalogue, Ruth Drew had ordered the three ranch girls’ -school outfits, but now these clothes seemed so simple and ordinary that -at least two of the girls hated the wearing of them. - -Each one of them had several pretty school dresses of light weight -flannel and serge, two simple silks for afternoon entertainments and -dinner use and a single party dress for the monthly dances which were a -feature of Primrose Hall school life. Their underclothes were plentiful -but plain. Indeed, until Jean saw her friend Margaret Belknap’s -lingerie, she had supposed that only brides, and very wealthy ones at -that, could have such possessions. Just think of a single item of a -dozen hand-made nightgowns at fifteen dollars apiece in a school girl’s -outfit; and yet these were among Margaret’s clothes. Jean openly -expressed her wonder and yet managed quietly to refuse to receive a gift -of two of them without hurting her new friend’s feelings. - -To a girl brought up in the conventional and moneyed atmosphere that -Margaret Belknap had been, Jean was a revelation. She seemed not to know -the meaning of snobbery, not to care who people were so long as she -liked what they were. Her manners were as charming to one person as to -another and her interest as sincere. Margaret had already asked Jean to -visit her in her home in New York during the Christmas holidays, as she -longed to introduce her to her own family in order that they might lose -their prejudice against western girls. But more especially Margaret -desired to bring her Harvard College brother, Cecil, and Jean together -so as to find out what they would think of one another. She was only -awaiting the first opportunity. In the meantime, although Jean would not -accept other gifts from her wealthy friend, she could not refuse the -flowers Margaret so constantly sent her. Indeed, she went about school -so much of the time with a pink carnation tucked in her hair that she -soon became known as “the pink carnation girl.” - -One of Jean’s greatest self-denials was not being able to send flowers -to Margaret in return, but in order to retain her masquerade of poverty, -most of the time she had to refrain. Only now and then she did relieve -her feelings by presenting Margaret a bunch of Violets or roses -regardless of cost. And occasionally a box of roses or chrysanthemums -would find their way into the room of a teacher who had been especially -kind to Olive, Frieda or her. - -With Olive there was apparently no self-denial in failing to spread -abroad the news of their wealth and in spending no pocket money, but -with Frieda the case was very different. It is quite certain that Jean -would never have had her way with Frieda except by appealing directly to -Jack for advice and assistance. When the letter from Jack came begging -her little sister to keep the secret of their wealth and to agree to -Jean’s plan, Frieda’s rebellion had weakened. Not that she saw any sense -in her sacrifice or was in the least reconciled to it, but simply -because under the circumstances, while Jack was still so ill, she could -refuse her nothing. And this self-restraint was particularly hard on -both the ranch girls, because never before in their lives had they had -any money of their own to spend and now Jack was sending each one of -them fifty dollars a month for pin money. Think of the fortune of it, if -you have had only one-tenth of that amount per month for your own use -before! - -And yet so far only once in all the weeks had Frieda yielded to -temptation. Going up to New York one Saturday for her first visit to the -grand opera, she had drifted into a big department store with half a -dozen of the other school girls and their chaperon in order to buy -herself a pair of gloves. - -Late that same afternoon Jean and Olive, who happened at the time to be -dressing for dinner, received a shock. An elegant young woman, arrayed -in a dark blue velvet coat and a hat encircled with a large, -lighter-blue feather, entering Jean’s room, dropped exhausted on the -bed. A cry brought Olive to the scene, but either because Frieda looked -too pretty in her new clothes to scold, or because she pretended to be -ill from fatigue, no word of reproach was spoken to her, not even when a -pale blue silk followed next morning by the early express and -twenty-five dollars had to be borrowed from Olive and Jean to pay for -it. - -Possibly both of the older girls were secretly pleased at Frieda’s -extravagance, because, while saving money is a virtuous act, it -certainly is a very dull one. And while Olive was storing her income -away in a lock box, wondering if it were possible to return it some day -in a gift for Jack, Jean was also hoarding hers in the same fashion, but -intending finally to spend it all in one grand splurge. - -While Jean often regretted having taken the vow of poverty at Primrose -Hall, she was always convinced of its wisdom. That there could be so -much talk and thought of money as she had lately heard among the set of -girls of whom Winifred Graham was leader, was repellant to her and, as -Jean already had developed strong class feeling, one of her chief -reasons for desiring to be elected Junior class president was in order -to prove that this snobbish set was not really in control of Primrose -Hall. Would Ruth and Jack and Jim Colter, the overseer of their ranch, -who had always said money would be the ruination of Jean, not feel proud -of her if they could hear that she won out in her battle without its -help. And yet what would they think of her if she turned her back on -Olive? Surely if Jean had not been so harassed and torn between the twin -enemies, ambition and love, she would hardly have accused Olive of being -the cause of her own unpopularity and certainly not at so unpropitious -an hour as she chose. But the time for Jean to make up her mind one way -or another was drawing close at hand and so far Olive had no idea of her -friend’s struggle, naturally supposing that Jean had already entered the -“Theta” society without mentioning it to her in order to spare her -pride. - -Monthly dances were an institution at Primrose Hall and it was now the -evening of the first one of them. Of course, dances at girls’ boarding -schools are not unusual, but the dances at Primrose Hall were, for Miss -Winthrop allowed young men to be present at them. Her guests were -brothers and cousins of her students or else intimate friends, carefully -introduced by the girls’ parents. Miss Winthrop regarded Primrose Hall -as a training school for the larger social world and desired her -students to learn to accept an acquaintance with young men as simply and -naturally as they did the same acquaintance with girls. If young girls -and boys never saw or spoke to one another during the years of their -school life, it was Miss Winthrop’s idea that they developed false -notions in regard to one another and false attitudes. Therefore, -although no one could be more severe than the principal of Primrose Hall -toward any shadow of flirtation, she was entirely reasonable toward a -simple friendship. It was because most of her girls had respected Miss -Winthrop’s judgment in this matter that her monthly dances, at first -much criticized, had since become a great success. Watching her students -and their friends together, the older woman could often give her -students the help and advice they needed in their first knowledge of -young men. So when Olive sent down an imploring message asking to be -excused from attendance at these monthly dances, Miss Winthrop had -positively refused her request. No excuse save illness was ever accepted -from either the Junior or Senior girls. - -It was a quarter before eight o’clock and the dance was to begin at -eight that evening, when Olive, already dressed, strolled slowly into -Jean’s and Frieda’s room, pretending that she wished to assist them, but -really longing for some word of sympathy or encouragement to help her in -overcoming her shyness. - -Frieda had slipped across the hall to show herself in her new blue gown -to the Johnson sisters, therefore Jean was alone. At the very instant of -Olive’s entrance she was thinking of her with a good deal of annoyance -and uncertainty and now the very fact that Olive looked so charming in a -pale-green crepe dress made her crosser than ever. When Olive was so -pretty how could the school girls fail to like her? - -But Olive immediately on entering the room and entirely unconscious of -Jean’s anger, stood silent for a moment lost in admiration of her -friend’s appearance. In truth, to-night Jean was “a pink carnation -girl,” for Margaret Belknap had sent her a great box of the deep -rose-colored variety and she wore a wreath of them in her hair. Quite by -accident her frock happened to be of the same color and the rose was -particularly becoming to her healthy pallor and the dark brown of her -hair, while to-night the excitement of attending her first school dance -made Jean’s brown eyes sparkle and her lips a deep crimson. - -“I do wish Ruth could see you to-night,” Olive said wistfully, “for I -think she has already cared more for you than even for Frieda or Jack.” - -“And not for you at all, Olive, I suppose,” Jean answered ungraciously. -“I do wish you would get over the habit of depreciating yourself. Didn’t -Miss Winthrop say the other day that we generally got what we expected -in this world and if you don’t expect people to like you and are too shy -and proud to let them, why how can they be nice to you?” - -Olive colored, but did not reply at once. - -“I do wish Jack were here,” Jean continued, “for she would have some -influence with you and not let you be so pokey and unfriendly. I am sure -I have tried in vain to stir you up and now I think I’ll write Jack and -Ruth how you are behaving. Really, you are spoiling Frieda’s and my good -times at school by being so stiff and touchy.” And Jean, knowing that -Olive did not yet understand how her failure to be invited into either -sorority was influencing her chance for the class election, yet had the -grace to turn her face away. - -For Olive had grown white. “Please don’t write to Jack or Ruth, Jean,” -she asked quietly, “I do not wish them to know I am not a success at -school and if you tell them that no one here likes me they will then -know that I am unhappy and will be worried, and Jack must not have any -worry now. It isn’t that I don’t try to make the girls like me. You are -mistaken if you think I don’t try; but oh, what is the matter with me, -Jean, that makes me so unpopular?” - -In an instant Jean’s arms were about Olive and she was kissing her -warmly. “Don’t be a goose, dear, there is nothing the matter with you -and you are not unpopular really; it is just some horrid, silly mistake. -Now promise me that to-night you won’t be frightened and you will be -friendly with everybody.” In this instant Jean made up her mind that in -some unexplainable way Olive must be standing in her own light or else -her classmates must see how charming she was. - -Olive promised with a quaking heart, knowing that many eyes would soon -be upon her to-night, including Miss Winthrop’s, who would be noticing -her unpopularity. And would she know a single guest at the dance? - -Frieda and Mollie Johnson had already disappeared, so that Jean and -Olive went down to the big reception rooms together, holding each -other’s hands like little girls. - - - - -CHAPTER VII - -CINDERELLA - - -To Miss Katherine Winthrop’s credit it must be stated that she desired -her students at Primrose Hall to grow into something more useful than -mere society women. Her ambition was to have them fill many important -positions in the modern world now offering such big opportunities to -clever women. Miss Winthrop was herself an unusually clever woman, cold -perhaps and not sympathetic with most of her girls, but just always and -interested in their welfare. But then none of her girls knew the story -of her youth nor realized that the last life she had ever expected for -herself in her rich and brilliant girlhood was that of a mistress of a -fashionable boarding school. Years before, Katherine Winthrop had been -the belle and beauty of the countryside, a toast in New York City and in -the homes of the old Dutch and English families along the Hudson River, -until she had let her pride spoil the one romance of her life. By and -by, when her father died and her family fortune disappeared, she had -then opened up her old home as a girls’ boarding school and her -aristocratic connections and old name immediately made Primrose Hall -both fashionable and popular, until now its mere name lent its students -an assured social prestige. Nevertheless, Miss Winthrop wished her -school to be something more than fashionable. Indeed, this thought had -been in her mind when she had chosen the ranch girls for her pupils from -among a list of fifty or more applicants whom she had been obliged to -refuse. There was little in the life of her school which she did not see -and understand, and now her hope was that Jean and Olive and Frieda, -with their freedom from snobbery, their simplicity and broader way of -looking at things, would bring the element most needed into their mere -money-loving and conventional eastern atmosphere. Though no one had -mentioned it to her, she had already observed Jean’s great popularity -with her classmates, Frieda’s good time among the younger girls and -Olive’s failure to make friends. What was the trouble with this third -ranch girl? - -Although Miss Winthrop had been particularly busy for the past month in -getting her school into good working order, she had not forgotten the -peculiar emotion that Olive had awakened in her at their first meeting. -Because the child was unusual in her manner and appearance was scarcely -a sufficient reason for the universal prejudice against her, and -to-night, at the first dance of the school season, Miss Winthrop had -determined to watch Olive closely and find out for herself wherein lay -the difficulty. Jessica Hunt was receiving with Miss Winthrop to-night -and had also wondered how Olive would stand the ordeal of their first -evening entertainment. For the dances at Primrose Hall were not -informal, it being a part of the principal’s idea that they should train -her girls for social life in any part of the world where in later years -circumstances might chance to take them. - -Miss Winthrop, her teachers and students, always appeared in full -evening dress at these entertainments, and this evening Miss Winthrop -wore a plain black velvet gown with a small diamond star at her throat, -a piece of jewelry for which she had a peculiar affection. Jessica Hunt, -who was standing next her, was in pure white, so that her blue eyes and -the bronze-gold of her hair (so like Jack’s, Olive had thought) made a -striking contrast with the darker, sterner beauty of the older woman. -Though there were a dozen or more of the Primrose Hall girls grouped -about the two women when Jean and Olive entered the reception room -together, both of them immediately saw and watched them as they came -slowly forward. - -The eyes of Jean, the flush and sparkle of her, spoke of her -anticipation of unutterable delights. Yet who should know, as she moved -through the room with an expression of fine unconsciousness, that this -was the first really formal party she had ever attended in her life. -Neither her blush nor her dimple betrayed her, although she was -perfectly aware that a number of youths in long-tailed coats and black -trousers, wearing immaculate white gloves and ties, had stopped talking -for several moments to their girl friends in order to glance at Olive -and at her. She even saw, without appearing to lift her lids, that a -tall, blonde fellow standing near her friend, Margaret Belknap, was -deliberately staring at her through a pair of eyeglasses. And at once -Jean decided that the young man was extremely ugly in spite of his -fashionable clothes and therefore not to be compared to Ralph Merrit or -other simple western fellows whom she had known in the past. - -Perhaps five minutes were required for this list of Jean’s passing -observations in her forward progress toward Miss Winthrop, and yet in -the same length of time Olive, who was close beside her, had seen -nothing “but a sea of unknown faces.” Even her school companions -to-night in their frocks of silk and lace looked unfamiliar. And yet -somehow, with Jean’s assistance, she also managed to arrive in front of -Miss Winthrop and Jessica Hunt and to pay her respects to them. Then, -still sticking close to Jean, she was soon borne off for a short -distance and there surrounded by a group of Jean’s girl friends. - -Half a dozen or more of them, Gerry Ferrows and Margaret Belknap in the -number, had come up with their cousins, brothers and friends to meet -Jean Bruce and to fill up her dance card. They were, of course, also -introduced to Olive, but as she did not speak, no one noticed her -particularly and no one invited her to dance. Jean had not intended to -desert Olive, but when the music of the first waltz began she forgot her -and marched off with an enthusiastic partner, who had asked Gerry -Ferrows to introduce him to the most fascinating girl in the room, and -Gerry had unhesitatingly chosen Jean. - -There were two or three other girls and young men standing near Olive -when Jean had turned away, but a few seconds later and she was entirely -alone. - -Is there greater anguish than for a shy girl unaccustomed to society to -find herself solitary in a crowded ballroom? At first Olive felt -desperate, knowing that her cheeks were crimson with shame and fearing -that her eyes were filling with tears. Then looking about her she soon -discovered a group of palms in a corner of the room not far away and -guessed that she could find shelter behind them. Slipping across she -came upon a small sofa hidden behind the evergreens, and with a little -sigh of thanksgiving sank down upon it. Soon after Olive began to grow -serene, for from her retreat she could watch the dancers and see what a -good time Jean and Frieda were having without being seen herself. Once -she almost laughed aloud as Frieda waltzed by her hiding place—Frieda, -who had been a fat, little girl with long plaits down her back just a -few weeks ago, now attired in a blue silk and lace, was whirling about -on the arm of a long-legged boy who had such a small nose and ridiculous -quantity of blonde curls that he might almost have been Frieda’s twin -brother. Five minutes later Olive decided that Jean was the belle of the -evening and that she would write the news to Jack to-morrow, for -apparently every young man in the ballroom was wishing to dance with -her. Even the supercilious fellow with the eyeglasses, whom Olive -recognized as Margaret Belknap’s much-talked-of Harvard brother, could -be seen dancing attendance on Jean. - -Twenty minutes, half an hour must have passed by in this fashion until -Olive felt perfectly safe in her green retreat, when unexpectedly a hand -was laid upon her shoulder and a voice said sternly, “What in the world, -child, are you doing hiding yourself in here? When I said you could not -stay up in your room to-night it was because I desired you to take part -in the dancing; there really isn’t much difference between your being -concealed up there or here.” - -And then to Olive’s discouragement an absurd catch in her breath made -her unable to answer at once. - -Olive’s retreat behind the palms had not been unnoticed as she had -thought, for both Miss Winthrop and Jessica Hunt had seen first her -embarrassment at being left alone and next her withdrawal. In much the -same fashion that Jack would have followed, Jessica had wished to rush -off at once to comfort Olive, but Miss Winthrop had held her back. - -“What is the difficulty about this girl, Jessica, what makes her so -unpopular?” she had asked when every one else was out of hearing. “I -wish you would tell me if you know any explanation for it.” - -But Jessica had only been able to shake her head, answering, “I can’t -for the life of me understand. There are a good many little things that -Olive does not seem to know, and yet, as she studies very hard, I -believe she will soon be one of the honor girls in my class. I have a -friend in New York, or an acquaintance rather,” and here Jessica blushed -unaccountably, “who seems to know the ranch girls very well. Perhaps I -had best ask him if there is anything unusual about Olive.” - -But the older woman had interrupted, “No, I had rather you would ask no -questions, at least not now please, Jessica, for I have heard at least a -part of the girl’s history, and yet I believe the real truth is not -known to any one and perhaps never will be. It may be happier for Olive -if it never is found out, but I wish we could teach her not to be so -sensitive.” And then when the opportunity arrived Miss Winthrop had -moved across the room to where Olive was in hiding. As the girl’s -startled brown eyes were upturned to hers Miss Winthrop, who was not -poetic, yet thought that her pupil in her pale green dress with her -queer pointed chin and her air of mystery, somehow suggested a girl from -some old fairy legend of the sea. And she wondered why the girls and -young men in the ballroom had not also seen Olive’s unusual beauty, -forgetting that young people seldom admire what is out of the ordinary. - -Some impulse after her first speech to Olive made the older woman -quickly put out her hand, clasping Olive’s slender brown fingers in -hers. “Don’t be afraid of me,” she said in a voice that was gentler than -usual, “for I understand it is timidity that is making you hide -yourself. Don’t you think though that you would enjoy dancing?” - -Olive’s face was suddenly aglow. “I should love it,” she returned, -forgetting for the instant her shyness, “only no one has invited me.” -Then as her teacher suddenly rose to her feet, as though intending to -find her a partner, with a sudden accession of dignity and fearlessness -Olive drew her down again. “Please don’t ask anyone to dance with me, -Miss Winthrop,” she begged; “if you will sit by me for a little while I -am sure it will be delightful just watching the others.” - -While the woman and girl were quietly gazing at the dancers, Miss -Winthrop happened to notice a silver chain with a cross at the end of -it, which Olive was wearing around her throat. Leaning over she took the -cross in her hand. “This is an odd piece of jewelry, child, and must be -very old; it is so heavy that I wonder if there is anything concealed -inside it.” - -Olive shook her head. “No, that is, I don’t know anything about it, -except that I hope it once belonged to my mother,” she replied. For some -strange reason this shy girl was speaking of her mother to a comparative -stranger, when she rarely had spoken the name even to her best beloved -friend, Jacqueline Ralston. - -But before Miss Winthrop had time to reply a new voice startled both of -them. “Why, Olive Ralston,” it exclaimed, “what do you mean by hiding -yourself away with Miss Winthrop when I have been searching the house -over for you.” - -Turning around, to her intense surprise, Olive now beheld Donald Harmon -standing near them, the young fellow whose father had rented the Rainbow -Ranch from the Ralston girls the summer before and whose sister had been -responsible for Jack Ralston’s fall over the cliff. - -“I wonder why you would not tell Olive that I was to be one of your -guests to-night, Miss Winthrop,” he continued, “and that my aunt is your -old friend and lives near Primrose Hall.” - -While Miss Winthrop was laughing and protesting that she had no idea -that Olive and Donald could know each other, Donald was trying to -persuade Olive out on the ballroom floor for her first dance with him. -By accident it happened to be a Spanish waltz and Olive had not danced -it before, but she had been watching the other girls. Donald was an -excellent partner and in five minutes she might have been dancing it all -her life. - -Now dancing with Olive and with Jean was quite a different art, although -both of the girls were beautiful dancers. Jean was gay and vivacious, -full of grace and activity, keeping excellent time to the music, but -Olive seemed to move like a flower that is swayed by the wind, hardly -conscious of what she was dancing or how she was dancing it and yet -yielding her body to every note of the music and movement of her -partner. - -By and by, as Olive and Donald continued their dancing, many of the -others stopped and at once the young men demanded to be told who Olive -was and why she had been hidden away from their sight until now? -Whatever replies the girls may have made to these questions, they did -not apparently affect their questioners, for from the time of her first -dance until the close of the evening Olive no longer lacked for -partners. She did not talk very much, but her eyes shone and her cheeks -grew crimson with pleasure and now and then her low laugh rang out, and -always she could dance. What did conversation at a ball amount to anyhow -when movement was the thing, and this stranger girl could dance like a -fairy princess just awakened from a long enchantment? - -Donald Harmon grew sorry later in the evening that he had ever brought -Olive forth from her retreat, but just before midnight, when Primrose -Hall parties must always come to an end, he did manage to get her away -for a moment out on the veranda, where chairs were placed so that the -young people could rest and talk. - - - - -CHAPTER VIII - -SHADOWS BEFORE - - -The veranda was prettily lighted with Japanese lanterns and shaded -electric lights and Donald found chairs for Olive and himself in a -corner where they could see the dancers and yet not be interrupted, for -he wished to talk to her alone for a few moments, never having forgotten -the impression she had made upon him at their first meeting, nor the -peculiar likeness which he still saw in her to his mother. - -But though Olive could not forget the Harmons, she had never really -liked them nor could she forgive the hurt which Elizabeth had innocently -brought upon her beloved Jack. And yet, as she knew that this attitude -on her part was hardly fair, she now turned to Donald. “I hope your -mother and Elizabeth are quite well,” she inquired with unconscious -coldness. - -Donald felt the coldness, but answered at once. “Yes, they are both -unusually well these days, and if Beth could only hear that your friend -Miss Ralston was going to get quite well, why she would brace up a lot. -But she worries about her a great deal, so she and my mother have just -come out here to Tarrydale for a short visit to my aunt. I got away from -college for a few days to be with them and to see you ranch girls -again,” he ended honestly. - -“You are very kind,” Olive murmured, watching the passers-by for a -glimpse of Jean or Frieda. - -“Elizabeth and mother wish you to come over very soon and have tea with -them,” the young man urged, appearing not to notice his companion’s lack -of interest. “My aunt’s place is very near Primrose Hall, so you can -easily walk over.” - -Olive shook her head. “I don’t believe Miss Winthrop would care to have -us go about the neighborhood making visits,” she announced, glad of what -seemed to her a reasonable excuse. - -Donald laughed, although he did feel somewhat hurt by Olive’s manner. -“Don’t try to get out of coming to see us for any such cause, Miss -Olive,” he protested, “for Miss Winthrop is one of my aunt’s dearest -friends and she and my mother have known one another since they were -girls. Why, my aunt is one of the shareholders in this school and is -always offering prizes to the girls, a Shakespeare prize and perhaps -some others that I don’t know about. You see, I was going to ask Miss -Winthrop to bring you and Miss Bruce and Frieda over to us, as she -always comes to see my aunt every week, now that Aunt Agatha has grown -too old and too cranky to leave her place.” - -Olive was essentially gentle in her disposition and knowing that Donald -had always been their friend in all family difficulties, she was sorry -to have seemed unkind. “I’ll tell Jean and Frieda,” she replied with -more enthusiasm, “and if Miss Winthrop is willing, why of course we will -be happy to come. You are staying at ‘The Towers,’ aren’t you, the white -house at the end of the woods with a tower at the top of it and queer -gabled windows and two absurd dogs on either side the front door?” - -The young man nodded. “You have seen the place, haven’t you? We are -dreadfully ashamed of those dogs now, but we used to love them as -children; I suppose a good many generations of the children in our -family have had glorious rides on their backs.” Olive frowned, a wave of -color sweeping over her face which even in the glow of the artificial -lights Donald was able to see. “I wonder,” she said, “about that tower -room. Isn’t it very big, with guns and swords and things around the -walls, and books, and a man in armor standing in one corner?” - -Donald stared, as Olive’s face went suddenly white again. “I am sorry I -made such a silly speech. Of course your tower room isn’t like that. I -think I must just have read of some such a room at the top of a house -somewhere that looks like yours. Only I want to ask you a few -questions.” - -At this instant a pair of hands were suddenly clasped over Olive’s eyes -and a voice asked: - - “Oh, tell me, lady, fair and blind, - Whose hands about thee are entwined?” - -The voice there was little difficulty in recognizing, for Jean had come -up quietly behind Olive and Donald with Cecil Belknap and with Gerry -Ferrows and one of her friends. Jean promptly began a conversation with -Donald; Gerry and her friend, after being properly introduced to the -others, continued their discussion, so there was nothing for poor Olive -to do but to try to talk to Cecil. - -Rather more sure of counting on Jean’s interest in his invitation than -Olive’s, Donald Harmon had promptly repeated his request to her, so that -for five minutes or more they were deep in questions and answers, Jean -laughingly reproaching Donald for not having asked her to dance all -evening, while he assured her that in vain had he tried to break through -the wall of her admirers. When a truce was finally declared Jean -smilingly accepted his invitation to tea and then turning stood for a -moment with her eyes dancing as she watched Olive’s struggle to keep up -a conversation with Cecil Belknap. The subject of the weather had -evidently been exhausted, also the beauty of the moon even now peeping -over one of the ridges of the Sleepy Hollow hills, and still Olive was -struggling bravely on without the least assistance from her superior -companion, who merely stared at her without volunteering a single -remark. - -Jean’s laugh rang out mischievously. “I do ask your pardon, Olive, for -having left you to talk to Mr. Belknap so long. Just think,” she turned -to look up at the young man with her most demure expression, “I used to -think the sphinx a woman, but now I am entirely convinced that he or she -is a Harvard student, for surely nothing else could be so equally silent -and inscrutable.” - -Cecil Belknap’s glasses slid off his nose. Could it be that this small -ranch girl, whom he had been trying to be nice to all evening on account -of his sister’s affection for her, was actually poking fun at him, a -Harvard Senior and heir to half a million dollars? The thing was -impossible! Had she not realized that his mere presence near her had -added to her social distinction all evening? Could it be that she had -also expected him to chatter with her like any ordinary schoolboy? -Winifred Graham would have had no such ridiculous ideas and Cecil now -hoped it was not too late to reduce Jean to a proper state of humility. - -However, Jean at this moment, asking pardon for her rudeness, drew Olive -aside. “Olive,” she whispered in her friend’s ear in rather anxious and -annoyed tones, “have you seen anything of Frieda Ralston for the past -hour? I told that young lady to come and speak to one or the other of us -every half hour all this evening and she has never been near me a single -time. Has she spoken to you?” - -Olive laughed, shaking her head. “No, Frieda has never spoken to me,” -she replied, “but once in dancing by me she did deign to smile as though -we had met somewhere before. Isn’t she funny?” - -But Jean was not amused. “She’s perfectly ridiculous with her grown-up -airs and I wish Ruth were here to send her upstairs to bed. You know it -is nearly twelve o’clock, Olive, and our dance will be over at exactly -twelve and then Miss Winthrop expects each one of us to come up and -personally say good-night to her. Suppose Frieda and that Johnson child -should not be around, for I can’t find Mollie either. I wonder if they -have gone off anywhere with that long-legged grasshopper of a boy?” - -“You take Frieda too seriously, Jean,” Olive murmured, “she is sure to -be in the parlor and will say good-night with the rest of us. You see, -we are so used to thinking of her as a baby that we can’t get used to -her independence.” - -But the two ranch girls could not continue indefinitely to talk of -family matters with strangers waiting near them. Anyhow, just at this -moment the big clock in the hall, the same clock that Olive had listened -to so long on that first night at Primrose Hall, now slowly began to -boom forth the hour of midnight and at the same moment the music began -to play the farewell strains of the “Home, Sweet Home” waltz. - -Cecil Belknap straightway offered his arm to Olive, not that he desired -her as a partner, but that he wished to punish Jean. A moment later -Gerry and her friend entered the ballroom, so that naturally Donald and -Jean were compelled to have this last dance together. Of course Donald -would have preferred Olive, but any ranch girl was sure of being second -best. However, Donald need not have worried over Jean’s being forced -upon him, for no sooner had they come into the parlor with the other -dancers, than two young fellows, seizing hold of Jean, declared she had -promised the “Home, Sweet Home” waltz to both of them, and almost -forcibly bore her away to divide the dance between them. - -So with nothing better left to do, Donald stood for a moment watching -Olive and Cecil Belknap. They were having a conspicuously sad time, for -Cecil could not dance and so Olive was miserable. Rushing to the rescue, -Donald bore his first partner away and now Cecil had the desire of his -heart. For Jean’s benefit he spent the closing moments of the evening in -the society of her rival, Winifred Graham. However, the young man would -have been better satisfied could he have known whether or not the -western girl noticed his desertion. His sister had asked him to be nice -to Jean in order that the mere influence of his presence near her might -induce her classmates to vote for her, and yet she had not appeared -particularly grateful. It is the old story with a girl or a woman. -Strange, but she never seems to care for a man’s attention when he makes -a martyr of himself for her sake! - -However, in these last few minutes of the dance the older ranch girls -were concerned only with thoughts of Frieda. Nowhere about the great -room could she be seen, not even after the young men guests had gone -away and the girls had formed in line to say good-night to Miss Winthrop -and Jessica Hunt. Olive and Jean were separated by several students and -yet the same questions traveled from one face to the other. “Suppose -Miss Winthrop asks us what has become of Frieda, what must we say, and -what will she do if, after trusting Frieda and Mollie, they have gotten -into some kind of mischief?” - -Two steps at a time, the two girls, when their own good-nights had been -said and no questions asked, rushed upstairs to their bedrooms. But -outside Jean’s door Olive suddenly stopped and laughed. “Frieda is such -a baby, she has only gone upstairs to bed. Of course she has said -good-night long ago.” - -Cautiously they thrust open the door; a dim light was burning inside the -room and a maid had turned down Frieda’s bed, but that young lady was -not in it, neither was there any sign of her presence about the place. - -Jean slipped across the hall to the Johnson girls’ room. “Lucy says -Mollie hasn’t come upstairs either,” she reported immediately, “so what -on earth shall we do? Miss Sterne has charge of our floor to-night and -will be around in a few minutes to see that we are ready for bed. Then -if Frieda isn’t here, won’t she just get it?” Jean was almost in tears -from nervousness and vexation, having always tried to keep Frieda a -little bit in order. Now that Frieda no longer paid any attention to -her, she was both angry and frightened. - -“I will slip downstairs and look for her,” Olive suggested faintly, -knowing that she could never get downstairs and back again before Miss -Sterne’s appearance and feeling that the vanishment of two girls might -be even more conspicuous and draw greater wrath down upon their heads -than the disappearance of one. - -“Miss Winthrop or one of the other teachers would surely see you -prowling around and would have to know the reason why, so that wouldn’t -help the present situation,” Jean answered. “Surely Frieda will be here -in a few minutes.” All up and down the hall the opening and shutting of -bedroom doors could now be heard and the voices of the other girls -bidding Miss Sterne and each other good-night. - - - - -CHAPTER IX - -FRIEDA’S MISTAKE - - -Jean had on her blanket wrapper and had taken down her hair, but Olive, -still fully dressed, kept darting from her own bedroom to Jean’s and -Frieda’s, peering out both doors for a sign of the wanderer. - -Finally Jean turned to her. “Come on, Olive, I don’t care in the least -what Miss Winthrop does to Frieda when she finds out how she has -behaved, but you and I must go to look for her.” - -Jean and Olive were half-way out in the hall, where the lights were now -being turned low, when a figure brushed by them. “Please let me get into -my own room,” a voice said peevishly, and nothing loath, the three -figures returned inside the room. “Begin undressing at once, Frieda -Ralston,” Jean commanded, “and don’t say one word in explanation or -excuse until Rebecca Sterne has gone by our room, for it is just barely -possible that she may not have seen you sneaking along the hall.” - -Jean spoke in tones of the utmost severity and even Olive gazed upon the -youngest ranch girl with an expression of disapproval. - -The preceptress’s knock came at this very instant. - -“Whatever are you doing in your ball gown, Frieda?” Miss Sterne -inquired, with her head on one side, gazing about through her large horn -spectacles that Olive had so promptly disliked, like a wise old owl. - -“And you, Miss Ralston, why aren’t you in your own room?” she continued, -“you know you are not expected to enter another girl’s sleeping -apartment after the hour for retiring.” - -Without replying Olive promptly slipped back into her own room and -rapidly began making ready for bed, not returning to talk to Jean or to -Frieda even when Miss Sterne’s retreating footsteps were far out of -hearing. - -And only once in the next ten minutes did she understand what the other -two ranch girls were saying and then it was Jean’s tones that were the -more distinct. - -Frieda was quietly slipping off a pale blue silk stocking and slipper, -keeping her eyes fastened conscientiously on the floor, when Jean, now -in her night gown, planted herself before her. “Where have you been all -this time, Frieda Ralston, and why didn’t you and Mollie Johnson say -good-night to Miss Winthrop when the rest of us did?” - -Frieda looked up, her eyes, almost the color of her blue stockings, -swimming in tears. “I was in the back hall, Jean, and I didn’t dream of -its being so late. Do you think Miss Winthrop noticed?” the culprit -faltered. - -Jean cruelly bowed her head. “What is there that goes on in this school, -Frieda, that escapes Miss Winthrop?” she inquired. “I suppose you will -be able to explain to her in the morning why you were in the back hall -instead of in the parlor with her guests, as you never seem to care to -tell anything to Olive or to me any more. Please hurry to bed.” - -Frieda was very angry at Jean’s superior air, but her own heart was -quaking and her lips trembling, so that she could not answer back in the -cool fashion she desired. “Mollie Johnson was with me,” she managed to -say, “and two boys.” - -Jean might have been the late Empress Dowager of China or the present -Czarina of Russia, so majestic was her manner as she sat up in bed with -her arms folded before her. - -“I had no idea you were alone, Frieda,” she said firmly, “but will you -please tell me why you went to the back hall when you knew perfectly -well that Miss Winthrop was trusting you to behave like a lady and -remain in the rooms where she was receiving her guests. I don’t know -what Ruth and Jack will say.” - -Frieda began to cry softly. “We were so hungry, Jean,” she murmured, -struggling to braid her long locks of flaxen hair. “You see, we had only -ices and cake for the party, and about eleven o’clock Tom Parker, the -boy I was with, said he wished he had a sandwich, and I was just as -hungry for one, so we found Mollie and another boy and slipped out of -the dining room. Mrs. White, the housekeeper, was up and back in the -pantry and she gave us cheese and pie and all sorts of good things.” And -now Frieda’s courage returning in a small measure, she turned out the -electric lights, hopping into bed. “I am not going to be treated like a -criminal, though, Jean Bruce, so I shan’t tell you anything more,” she -ended, burying herself under the cover. - -So half an hour passed and supposedly the three ranch girls were sound -asleep, though in reality the three of them were still wide awake. - -Jean and Olive were both worrying over Frieda, not yet understanding the -real facts of her escape, and Frieda was longing with all her might for -some one to sympathize with her and help her in her scrape, some one who -would let her cry herself out. - -By and by Olive crept softly from her room to Jean’s bedside. “Jean, has -Frieda explained things to you?” she whispered. - -Jean sighed. “She said they were hungry, she and Mollie and two boys, -and that they went into the pantry and had something to eat, but she -didn’t say why they stayed in the back hall afterwards. They couldn’t -have kept on eating pickles and cheese for over an hour.” And both girls -giggled softly in spite of their worry, for was it not like little -greedy baby Frieda to have required extra food just as she was -constantly doing on their long trip through the Yellowstone the summer -before? - -“Well, it all sounds pretty simple, Jean,” Olive comforted, “and I don’t -think Miss Winthrop will be very angry when she hears that the pantry -was the difficulty, for she knows how good the housekeeper is to all the -little girls.” - -“It isn’t the pantry that worries me; it’s the back hall.” Jean’s voice -became low and impressive, “What do you suppose that Frieda Ralston -could have to talk about to a—boy?” - -A stifled sob at this moment shook the bed-clothes and both older girls -started, guiltily. Reaching over, Olive patted the outside of the -blanket. - -“Were you talking to the boy, Frieda?” she inquired in a sterner manner -than was usual to her, “or were all four of you just sitting around -having a jolly time together?” Now that Frieda’s sobs assured the other -two girls that she was awake, they were glad enough to be able to go on -with her cross-examination. - -“I was talking to the boy all by myself,” Frieda’s reply was -unhesitating though somewhat choked. “Mollie and the other boy were -sitting on a higher step and the servants were around, but no one told -us how late it was.” - -“Well, what were you talking about that you found so interesting that -you could not hear the clock strike twelve, or the ‘Home, Sweet Home’ -waltz, or the good-byes being said?” Jean demanded fiercely. - -This time Frieda made not the least effort to restrain her sorrow, for -the bed fairly shook with her weeping. “We were talking about worms!” -she sobbed. - -“Worms!” Olive and Jean repeated in chorus, believing that they could -not have heard aright. - -“Oh, yes, worms and flies,” the culprit continued. “You see, we got to -talking about fishing and Tom Parker said he loved it better than most -anything he ever did and some summers he goes way up into the Maine -woods and fishes in the lakes for trout. He uses flies for bait always, -but I told him that we fished with worms in Rainbow Creek and sometimes -when it wouldn’t rain for a long time we used to have to dig way down -under the ground to find them. I told him too how once I started a -fishing worm aquarium and kept all the worms I could dig up in a glass -bowl to sell to Jim and the cowboys whenever they wished to go fishing.” - -Frieda did not further endeavor to outline her grown-up conversation -with her first admirer, feeling too angry and too puzzled to go on for -the minute, for her former irate judges were now holding their sides and -doing their level best to keep from shrieking with laughter. - -“And I was afraid she was talking sentiment instead of fishing worms,” -Jean whispered in Olive’s ear. - -Around to the other side of the bed Olive went to tuck the covers more -closely about Frieda. “Go to sleep, baby, and dream of Jack,” she -comforted, “and perhaps Miss Winthrop will never hear of your mistaking -the time for saying good-night.” - -“And if she does hear, you’ll ask her to forgive me,” Frieda returned -sleepily, “for I believe she likes you, Olive, better than most any of -the girls. I have seen her looking at you so strangely every now and -then.” - -In another half minute Frieda was fast asleep, not feeling so penitent -over her escapade as the two older ranch girls supposed. But Frieda had -always been a good deal spoiled and, as Miss Winthrop had not noticed -her failure to say good-night, no further scolding impressed her fault -upon her mind. Perhaps this was unfortunate, for it is better that both -little girls and big receive their punishment for a fault so soon as the -fault is committed, in order not to keep on growing naughtier and -naughtier until Fate punishes us for many sins at once. - - - - -CHAPTER X - -THE HOUSE OF MEMORY - - -After lunch the day following the dance, as it chanced to be Saturday -afternoon, Jean came into the ranch girls’ sitting room looking for -Olive and Frieda. She had been playing basketball for the past two hours -and in spite of having known nothing of the game on her arrival at -school, was already one of its acknowledged champions. But although -Jean’s cheeks were glowing and her hair in a tumbled mass above her -face, her expression was uncommonly serious and in her hand she held a -bundle of letters. One she tossed to Frieda, who was curled up on a sofa -nursing a small cold due to her frivolity, and two to Olive, keeping two -for herself. - -Olive quickly tore open the letter addressed to her in Jack’s -handwriting and Frieda followed suit. When Jack had first been taken to -the hospital and there compelled to lie always flat on her back, her -handwriting had been difficult to read, but now that she had gotten used -to this method of writing, her stroke was again as vigorous and -characteristic as of old. - -Frieda, after reading a few lines, smiled up at the other girls. “Jack -says she is getting on very well and we are to see her in a few -weeks—perhaps,” she announced. - -Olive looked over at Jean. “It is worse than Jack writes, of course, -isn’t it?” she asked. “I suppose Ruth has written you, for Jack never -tells anything but the best news of herself.” - -“There may be an operation or something of the sort later on,” Jean -conceded, “Ruth does not say positively, for it may not be for some -months yet. Only if the operation does have to take place Jack has -demanded that Jim come on from the ranch to New York, leaving Ralph -Merrit to look after things at the mine. Jim would come now, but things -are in a bit of a tangle. I wonder how Ruth will behave if Jim does -come?” And Jean sighed. - -An interested expression, crossed Frieda’s face. “Why should she behave -in any special way?” she inquired, sitting straight up on the couch to -gaze from Olive to Jean. - -Quickly the subject of conversation needed to be changed, for Frieda was -the only one of the four ranch girls who knew nothing of what had -happened at the ranch between Jim Colter, their overseer, and Ruth Drew, -their chaperon. What had come between the two lovers only Jack Ralston -understood, but Olive and Jean were both perfectly aware that Jim and -Ruth had seemed to care a great deal for one another and then some -mysterious misunderstanding had suddenly parted them. - -“I wonder if old Jack looks very badly,” Jean suggested, knowing this -would surely divert Frieda’s attention to one theme. “Sometimes I wish -for Jack’s sake that we were all back at Rainbow Lodge, for there she -was able to be out in the air a part of the time and now—” The vision of -Jack lying helpless at the hospital was too much for the three girls, so -that there was a moment of painful silence in the room. Then Jean said -more cheerfully after re-reading the latter part of Ruth’s letter: “Jim -says that Ralph Merrit is doing perfectly splendid work at the mine and -that he is a trump. Do you know I am rather vain of having discovered -Ralph that day in the wilderness, considering how well he has turned -out; Jim likes him a lot better than he does Frank Kent.” - -The young lady on the sofa with the cold had not yet forgiven Jean for -last night’s scolding. Now she turned up her small nose a trifle more -than usual. “Oh, you just say that because Ralph likes you best and -Frank Kent is more fond of Jack,” she answered scornfully. And Jean -flushed. - -“That is not true, Frieda. Of course it is only natural that Jim should -like Ralph better because Ralph is poor and has to make his own way in -the world just as Jim has; and Frank Kent, though he is awfully simple -and a thorough good fellow, is the son of an English Lord and may have a -title himself some day.” - -“Then wouldn’t it be splendid if Jack should become an English lady and -own country estates and ride to hounds?” Frieda suggested more -peacefully, gazing across the room at Frank Kent’s photograph, which -ornamented the bookshelf. “I think I should love to be introduced into -English society and talk to earls and princes and things,” she ended -lamely. - -A fine sarcasm curled Jean’s lips, though her eyes sparkled with -mischief. “Talk to earls and princes and things about fishing worms, -baby?” she queried with studied politeness. - -And promptly Frieda, flushing quite up to her ears, hurled a sofa -cushion at Jean, which Olive caught, saying gently: - -“Please don’t let’s quarrel, children, we never used to at the Lodge. -What would Ruth think of us?” And picking up a second letter that Jean -had brought to her, she began to read it. - -Jean sat penitently down on the sofa trying to kiss Frieda, who -resolutely covered up her head. “Come on and get dressed, infant; no, -your cold isn’t too bad for you to come. Olive is reading a note of -invitation from Mrs. Harmon for us to come over to ‘The Towers’ to have -tea and Miss Winthrop and Jessica Hunt are to go with us.” - -But the rôle of invalid was too precious a one and too seldom enjoyed by -the youngest Miss Ralston for her to surrender it easily. - -“I am too sick, please tell Mrs. Harmon,” she protested resolutely; -“only if they have any candy or cake and happen to mention sending me -some you might bring it along. And I do wish both you girls would go out -for a while, for Mollie is coming to spend the afternoon with me after -she finishes her music lesson and we would love to have the sitting room -to ourselves.” - -“I hope, Olive, that you know when you are not wanted without being -actually knocked over by the broadness of the hint,” Jean said, seeing -that Olive was hesitating about what she should do. “Come along, it will -do us both good to get away and not to sit here thinking about what we -can’t help,” she ended. - -While both girls were putting on their best afternoon frocks preparatory -to starting forth on their visit, in the silence of her own room Olive -was trying to persuade herself that her hesitation in going for the call -upon the Harmons was because she dreaded to be reminded by the sight of -Elizabeth of the old tragedy to Jack. But there was something more than -this in her mind, for actually she dreaded entering the big white house -which had given her such an uncomfortable sensation the moment her eyes -had rested upon it. Yet what connection could she have ever had with an -old place like “The Towers,” or any house resembling it? Her impression -that she must have seen the house somewhere before was sheer madness, -for was it not an old Dutch mansion, perhaps built hundreds of years -ago, and certainly wholly unlike any of the ranch houses out West? - -Olive resolutely put all the ridiculous ideas that had annoyed her out -of her mind and with Jessica Hunt, Miss Winthrop and Jean started gayly -forth on their walk. It was about four o’clock in the late November -afternoon and instead of following the path through the woods, the -little party set out along the lane that led through an exquisite part -of the Sleepy Hollow neighborhood. Crossing a little brook they climbed -a short hill and from the top of it could see at some distance off the -spire of the old Sleepy Hollow church and on the other side the Hudson -River with the autumn mists rising above it like breath from its deep -hidden lungs. - -Jessica and Olive were together, Jean and Miss Winthrop. As Olive was -particularly silent, Jessica drew her arm through hers. “This is a land -of legends and of dreams about here, dear, and some day I must take you -western girls about the country and show you the historic places nearby. -Do you know anything about them?” she asked. - -But Olive was dreaming or else stupid, for she only shook her head. “I -don’t know,” she answered, “the country does seem somehow familiar, yet -it did not at first. Don’t you believe that all the world, at least the -world of outside things, of hills and trees and valleys and water, -somehow belongs alike to all of us and once we have seen a landscape and -moved about in it, why we are at home. There isn’t any strangeness in -nature, there can’t be; it is only people and houses and streets that -are odd and unlike and fail to belong to us.” - -Donald Harmon met his four guests some yards up the road on their -approach to the house. As he was holding a great St. Bernard dog by the -collar and as it bounded away from him all of a sudden, nearly upsetting -Olive and Jessica in the rapture of its welcome, the little party -entered “The Towers” with too much laughter and excitement for Olive to -feel any self-consciousness or emotion. Indeed, she quite forgot all of -her past foolishness in meeting Mrs. Harmon and Elizabeth again after so -many eventful months. Elizabeth was able to walk about the room quite -easily and of course her first inquiry was for Jack. - -Without a chance for exchanging views, Jean and Olive both decided -at once that the drawing room at “The Towers,” in spite of its -magnificence, was one of the darkest and most unattractive rooms either -of them had ever seen. For everything was very stiff and formal and -without life or fragrance. Carved black furniture sat stiffly against -the walls, which were hung with old portraits of men and women in high -fluted ruffs, with gorgeous embroidered clothes and hard, cold faces. -Over in one corner stood a tea table piled with silver and white linen -and having a large arm chair near it carved like a throne. And behind -this chair was a portrait of a beautiful boy of ten or twelve, who -looked a little like Donald Harmon. - -“My aunt will be down in a few minutes, Katherine,” Mrs. Harmon had said -as soon as her guests were seated. “She has asked us to wait tea for -her.” And Jean and Olive both noticed that Mrs. Harmon’s manner was a -little constrained and that she kept looking at Olive as though she -intended asking her some question, but as the question was never asked, -the girls must have been mistaken. However, the conversation in the -little company did not become general, for no one except Miss Winthrop -seemed to feel at ease, until by and by the tap, tap, tap of a long -stick was heard coming along the hall and with a low bow the butler -flung open the drawing room door. - -Everybody sat up straighter in their high-back chairs; Jean could not -forbear a slight wink at Donald, but Olive felt her heart rise up in her -throat. Why on earth was the old mistress of “The Towers” so formidable -that the entire neighborhood felt an awe of her? Olive was rather sorry -that she was competing for one of her prizes offered to the Junior -students at Primrose Hall. - -“Madame Van Mater,” the butler announced very distinctly and at the name -of the owner of the white house, which Olive now heard for the first -time since her arrival at Primrose Hall, the young girl caught at the -sides of her chair, and drew in her breath sharply. Then when no one was -looking at her, smiled at herself and turned her gaze curiously on their -ancient hostess. - - - - -CHAPTER XI - -“SLEEPY HOLLOW, A LAND OF DREAMS” - - -For the first time in her life she now beheld a lady for whom there is -no English expression so good as the French, “a grande dame.” - -There was still daylight in Madame Van Mater’s drawing room, but she -stood for a moment in the center of her doorway staring with brilliant, -hard, black eyes from one guest to the other and slightly inclining her -head. Then she walked over to the high, carved chair near the tea table -and sat down under the picture of the little boy. Feeble from old age, -she was yet of too determined a spirit to accept help from any one, for -when Donald tried to slip a cushion under her feet, she calmly motioned -it away. Her hair, which was snow white, was piled high on her head by a -careful maid; her skin, showing the remorseless touch of age, was yet as -delicately powdered and rouged as if she had been an actress about to -make her debut, and she was carefully dressed in a gown of deep purple -silk with lace at her throat and old amethysts. And yet no art or effort -could hide the ravages of age and of sorrow in the face, though the -coldness of her air and expression suggested that she would have -repelled grief as well as love whenever she was humanly able. - -The atmosphere of the old drawing room was not any more cheerful after -its hostess had entered. Indeed, no one in the room seemed to be able to -speak except Miss Winthrop, for Mrs. Harmon was plainly ill at ease and -even Elizabeth had been taught to treat this wealthy old aunt, whose -fortune she expected some day to share with her brother, with more -respect than she showed to any one else in the world. - -Unconsciously the young people, including Jessica Hunt, had huddled -close together, solemnly drinking their tea but having little to say to -one another. - -Finally a cold voice made the five of them jump and Jean was barely able -to suppress a giggle. “Donald,” Madame Van Mater said, “bring the girl, -whom you tell me you met in the West and who bears so strange a -resemblance to your mother, closer to me. I think all resemblances are -ridiculous and yet you have made me curious.” - -Why on earth should Olive be made the center of all eyes when of all -things she most hated it, and yet what else was there for her to do in -this instance but to arise and allow Donald to lead her across the room -to his aunt? Donald’s eyes begged forgiveness for the old woman’s -peremptory manner, and yet he showed no sign of disobedience. - -“Turn on the electric light,” Madame Van Mater ordered, for the dusk was -creeping into the big room. And under the light, facing her hostess, -Olive waited with Mrs. Harmon only a few feet away. - -It was unlike this shy, delicate girl on meeting with strangers even to -raise her eyes to theirs, and yet she now stared straight at Madame Van -Mater with a gaze as fixed and direct as hers and almost as searching -and haughty. For Olive’s emotion was immediately one of the deepest -antagonism toward this woman, however old she might be, who summoned her -as a queen might summon a subject. - -Beginning at the girl’s feet, Madame Van Mater surveyed her slowly -through a pair of gold-rimmed lorgnettes, her eyes, of course, resting -longest on Olive’s face. And was the sigh she drew one of relief as she -turned again to Donald and to Mrs. Harmon? “I do not see the least -likeness in this girl to any member of my family,” she announced. -“Whatever her name may be, her appearance is quite foreign and I should -prefer never to have the subject of this resemblance mentioned again.” -And nodding her head, the old lady apparently dismissed Olive to her -seat. - -But Miss Winthrop caught at her pupil’s hand as she passed her drawing -her down toward her. “Let me look at you, Olive,” she murmured. “I had -not heard of this fancy of Donald’s, but it has seemed to me that I have -seen some one a little like you somewhere, I fancied in some old -picture.” Then smiling she shook her head. “No, Donald, I can’t say I -see any likeness to your mother, and yet, after all, perhaps there is -enough of a suggestion of her for you not to be altogether snubbed.” - -And now at last Olive was permitted to return to her chair, where she -sat down pretending to look out of the window, though all the time she -was feeling hot and rebellious at the scene in which she had just been -compelled to play an unwilling part. Why, because she was so uncertain -of her ancestry, should she be forced to go through these moments that -made the fact more bitterly painful to her? - -Donald guessed at Olive’s feelings, for though the ranch girls had tried -their best to keep her story from the ears of the Harmons during their -stay at Rainbow Lodge, a part of it Donald, his sister and mother had -learned through Aunt Ellen, through the cowboys on the ranch and through -one or two of their closest neighbors. And for this reason the young -fellow was perhaps even more interested in this half Indian girl. Now he -wished very much to help her escape from the unpleasant situation into -which his own idle talk had led her. - -Donald turned to Jean and Jessica Hunt. “I wonder if you and Miss -Ralston would care to come and look over the old house with me?” he -asked “It is so old that it is quite worth seeing and I am sure that -Elizabeth will excuse us.” - -Elizabeth did not pretend that she enjoyed the idea of being left with -only the older people, but as Jacqueline Ralston was the only one of the -ranch girls for whom she deeply cared, she made no objection, -particularly as no one waited for her to speak. For Jean fairly bounced -from her chair with relief, Jessica Hunt rose immediately and Olive soon -after, feeling that she would surely turn to stone if she were obliged -to remain another moment in the room with the old mistress of “The -Towers.” - -Once out in the hall, the party of young people appeared suddenly to -have been released from prison. Jean danced a two-step, Jessica clapped -her hands softly together and Olive laughed, while Donald straightway -plunged head first up the dark mahogany steps. “Do come on upstairs,” he -begged, “for there isn’t much time and Miss Hunt knows the house well -enough to tell you that it is the tower room where we have the great -view that is most interesting. Please save your breath, for we have -rather a long climb.” - -Immediately after Donald, Jean climbed and then Olive and then Jessica. -Of course, the first two flights of stairs were like those in any -ordinary house, but the third was a queer spiral resembling the steps in -a lighthouse. About midway up these steps Jessica noticed that Olive -paused, pressing her hands to her eyes as though to shut out some idea -or some vision that assailed her, and that she wavered as though she -felt faint. - -“What is the matter, Olive, are you ill?” Jessica inquired, knowing that -climbing to unexpected heights often has this effect on sensitive -persons. And though Olive now shook her head, moving on again, Jessica -determined to watch her. - -To Jean’s openly expressed surprise the tower room was not a small, -closet-like place as she had supposed, but a big, spacious apartment out -of which the little gabled windows winked like so many friendly eyes. -The room was fitted up as a boy’s room with a bed apparently just ready -to be slept in, there was a trapeze at one end and a punching bag, but -the bookcases were filled with books of all kinds and for all ages, -French, Spanish and German books and plays from the days of the miracle -plays down to the English comedies. Olive looked at these books for a -long time and then went over to a far corner of the room which seemed to -be a small museum, for rusty swords and old pistols were hung on the -walls, a shield and a helmet and the complete figure of a knight in -armor stood in one corner. Curious why these masculine trophies should -interest a girl, and yet for some reason they did interest Olive, for -she waited there alone; Jessica, Jean and Donald having gone over to one -of the windows were gazing out over the countryside made famous the -world over through its history and legend, “Sleepy Hollow, the Land of -Dreams.” - -Jean beckoned to Olive. “Come over here, dear, if you wish to see the -view,” she begged, “for the sun will be going down in the next few -minutes.” - -And in a moment, taking tight hold of Jean’s hand, Olive also looked out -the window. She saw the little brook and a bit of the bridge over which -they had lately passed, with the stretch of woodlands to one side and -the autumn-colored hills rising in the background. Very quietly she -began to speak: - -“Not far from the village, perhaps about two miles, there is a little -valley, or rather lap of land, among high hills, which is one of the -quietest places in the whole world. A small brook glides through it, -with just murmur enough to lull one to repose; and the occasional -whistle of a quail or tapping of a woodpecker is almost the only sound -that ever breaks in upon the uniform tranquillity.” - -These words Olive repeated with her eyes still on the landscape and her -lips moving as though she were reciting a verse of poetry long ago -forgotten and now brought back to mind by the objects that inspired it. - -It was so utterly unlike Olive to be drawing attention to herself by -reciting that Jean stared at her in blank amazement, but neither Donald -Harmon nor Miss Hunt appeared in the least surprised and after a moment, -as though again striking the strings of her memory, the young girl went -on: “If ever I should wish for a retreat, whither I might steal from the -world and its distractions, and dream quietly away the remnant of a -troubled life, I know of none more promising than this little valley.” -And then her recitation abruptly ended. - -“What on earth are you spouting, Olive Ralston?” Jean demanded; “or tell -us, please, if you are composing an essay on the spur of the moment to -impress your English teacher?” - -Jessica laughed. “Ignorant child, not to know what Olive is repeating! I -should have taught it you before now, but Olive seems to have gotten -ahead of me and learned it first.” - -“But what is it?” Jean insisted. “The idea of Olive’s memorizing a thing -like that and then waiting for a critical minute to recite it so as to -impress her audience. I never should have suspected her!” - -But as Olive made no answer to her friend’s teasing, Jessica said in -explanation: “Why, Olive has just recited Washington Irving’s -description of this countryside, which he gives in his ‘Legend of Sleepy -Hollow,’ and when you get back to school, Jean, I advise you to ask -Olive to lend you her book.” - -Downstairs the little party broke up and on the way back to Primrose -Hall, Olive walked close beside Miss Winthrop. At first both the woman -and the girl were silent, but as they neared the school Olive spoke -suddenly: - -“Miss Winthrop, I suppose most everybody in the world knows the feeling -of coming to a strange place and all at once thinking that you have been -there before, seen the same things or people and even heard the same -words said?” - -Miss Winthrop nodded, trying to study Olive’s face closely and yet not -appearing too deeply interested, although the girl’s expression was both -puzzled and intent. - -“Why, yes, Olive, it is a very usual experience,” she answered. “No one -can understand or explain it very well, but the impression is more apt -to come to you when you are young. I can recall once having gone into a -ballroom and there having had some one make a perfectly ordinary speech -to me and yet I had a sudden sensation almost of faintness, so sure was -I that at some past time I had been in the same place, under the same -circumstances and heard the same speech, and yet I knew at the time it -was impossible.” - -“But can one remember actual words that may have been spoken in a -certain place? I don’t see how a thing can suddenly pop into one’s mind -without our remembering where we have learned it before,” Olive -persisted. - -Miss Winthrop took the girl’s hand in hers. “My dear,” she said quietly, -“I think there are many wonderful things in the world around us that we -do not believe in because we do not yet understand them, just as long -years ago men and women did not believe that our world was round because -it had not then been revealed to them. And so I do not understand about -these strange psychical experiences about which we have just been -talking. But I recall a remarkable book by Du Maurier, one of the most -remarkable novels I have ever read, called ‘Peter Ibbetson.’ In this -story there is a song whose refrain is ever repeated in the hero’s mind -from the time he is a little boy all through his life. He does not -understand why he remembers this song, but by and by it is explained to -the reader that this song had played an important part in the life of -one of Peter Ibbetson’s ancestors. And just as we can inherit the color -of our eyes, the shape of our nose, a queer trait of character from some -far-off ancestor, so Du Maurier wrote that we might inherit some mental -impression, like the lines of this song. It is a difficult thing to -understand, but the idea is interesting.” - -“It is very,” Olive replied. “I think I should like to read the book.” - -Miss Winthrop again turned to study Olive’s face, but the darkness of -the late fall afternoon had now fallen completely. - -“May I ask if you have had any queer experience, Olive? Have you ever -felt that you have been in a certain place before, where you know you -could never really have been, or have you thought suddenly of something -that you did not remember having in your mind before? But please do not -answer me if you would rather not, for I know that these queer -experiences most of us would rather keep to ourselves.” - -“Thank you,” was Olive’s unsatisfactory answer as the four women started -up the outside steps of Primrose Hall. - - - - -CHAPTER XII - -WINIFRED GRAHAM AND GERRY - - -While Jean and Olive were having tea at “The Towers” and Frieda and -Mollie were engaged in a confidential talk in the ranch girls’ sitting -room, school politics were playing an important part in the precincts of -Primrose Hall, for Winifred Graham and Gerry Ferrows were devoting that -same Saturday afternoon to canvassing their class in order to discover -whether Jean or Winifred might hope in the following week to be elected -president of the Junior class. Gerry was electioneering for Jean, while -Winifred was conducting a personal investigation. Indeed, the situation -between these two girls was a peculiar and a difficult one, for having -once been intimate friends, they had now become violently estranged from -one another and yet continued to be room-mates. For no other reason than -because Winifred suspected Gerry’s political intentions on that Saturday -afternoon did she arrange to bring her own followers together and with -their aid to outclass Gerry, for Jean had positively refused to work for -herself, having turned over her cause to her two best friends, Gerry and -Margaret Belknap. - -But before leaving for “The Towers” very early on that morning Jean and -Gerry had had a long and intimate talk over the chances for her election -and Gerry had been perfectly frank about the whole situation. - -Olive was still the obstacle standing in the way of Jean’s success. If -even at this late date Jean would allow herself to be elected into one -of the sororities and thus proclaim her independence of the girl whose -presence in the school her classmates resented, she might yet win their -complete allegiance; if not—well, it was just this state of the case -that Gerry was trying to fathom. For Jean absolutely declined to turn -her back on her adopted sister and yet longed with all her heart for the -honor of the class presidency. Gerry’s own position on this question of -Olive was an exceedingly anomalous one; while she was too good a sport -to be unkind to any one in adversity, yet she did not herself care to -associate with Olive on terms of perfect equality, although she had -never mentioned this fact to Jean. And lately she had felt her own -decision waver, for since her father had written her that he had charge -of Jack Ralston’s case at his hospital and found her the pluckiest girl -he had ever seen, Gerry longed to take all the ranch girls under her -protection, and yet her prejudice still held out against Olive. - -Being but human and entirely devoted to Jean, this prejudice grew deeper -on the afternoon that Gerry went from one room to the other of her -classmates, asking them point-blank whether they intended to cast their -votes for Winifred or for Jean at the coming election. Some of the girls -were quite frank. They had intended voting for Jean, but lately decided -that it would be wiser not to have as the representative of their class -a girl who claimed as her adopted sister a half-caste Indian. Others of -the Juniors hedged, they might or they might not vote for Jean, not -having entirely made up their minds between her and Winifred; a number -of them were, of course, Jean’s frank and loyal supporters and yet it -was with a feeling of discouragement that Gerry at the close of her -canvass returned to her own room. She had taken a note book with her and -written down each girl’s position in regard to the election, and yet she -could not now decide whether Jean’s prospects were good or bad. So it -was peculiarly irritating on bouncing angrily into her sitting room to -find Winifred already there before her, with her long blonde hair down -her back, and, while she was pretending to cut the pages of a magazine, -wearing a particularly cheerful and self-satisfied expression. - -Winifred Graham was a very beautiful girl and perhaps not an agreeable -one, and yet she represented a type not unusual in a certain portion of -American society. As long as Winifred could remember she had been taught -these two things: By her brains and her beauty she must some day win for -herself the wealth and the position that her family had always longed to -have and yet never had quite succeeded in attaining. For always her -mother and father had been spending more money than they could afford in -trying to keep up with their friends who were richer and more prominent -than themselves. Indeed, Winifred’s presence at Primrose Hall was but -another proof of their extravagance, for they could by no means afford -the expense of such a school, yet their hope was that there Winifred -would make so many wealthy and aristocratic friends that later on they -might help her to a wealthy marriage. - -But Winifred was not only ambitious socially; she had a good mind and -longed to succeed in her classes as well as in her friendships, so it -was hardly to be wondered at that she should cordially dislike the two -older ranch girls, who, coming out of nowhere and pretending to nothing, -seemed likely to prove her rivals. For, while Jean might stand in the -way of her being chosen to fill the highest position in the Junior -class, Olive was seeking to wrest from her the Shakespeare prize which -the old lady at “The Towers” offered each year to the Junior students in -Jessica Hunt’s class. Gerry Ferrows was also competing for this prize, -but as it represented a fairly large sum of money, sufficient to cover a -year’s tuition at Primrose Hall, Winifred felt that in any case it must -be hers. - -She looked up and laughed mockingly as Gerry flung herself down on their -couch, closing her eyes as though she wished to take a nap. - -“What luck for the fair Jean at the coming election, friend Gerry?” she -asked in an irritating fashion. - -“Better luck than for the fair Winifred,” Gerry answered, none too -truthfully, but enraged at her companion’s air of calm assurance. - -Winifred laughed again. “That isn’t the truth, Gerry, and you know it, -and I thought you always spoke the truth no matter if it half killed -you, being anxious to prove that women are as honest as men, as brave -and as straight-forward and as clever, and therefore should be entitled -to equal suffrage.” - -Gerry now sat up on her couch challenging her foe, her homely face -crimsoning. “You are right, Winifred, I wasn’t quite truthful; I am -afraid that your chance for the presidency is better than Jean’s. But -you know that it is all because the girls here think that Olive isn’t a -fit associate for the rest of us, or else Jean would have won in a -walkover. I wonder if the story of Olive’s not knowing anything of her -parentage is true and if she is a half Indian girl? You told it me. -Where did you get the information? Perhaps after all it isn’t so!” - -“Oh, the story came through the Harmons, who were out West and heard the -tale and Elizabeth’s repeating it to one of the younger girls she knew -in this school. I don’t suppose Elizabeth meant any harm in telling, for -she seemed to think that we would be pleased to have an Indian enliven -us at Primrose Hall. You may be very sure, however, that Olive and Jean -and Frieda have been very quiet about the whole question of this -objectionable Olive, but if you don’t believe the story, Gerry, why -don’t you inquire of Miss Winthrop?” Winifred ended. - -Again Gerry flushed. “I have,” she answered shortly, “and Miss Winthrop -treated me with her most frozen manner. ‘If there is any mystery about -Olive Ralston’s parentage, that is her private affair,’ she said. ‘But -kindly remember that she is a student at Primrose Hall and if I thought -her unfit for the companionship of my other girls, she would not be -among you.’ You can imagine that I felt about the size of a small -caterpillar when she got through with me.” And Gerry bridled, still sore -from Miss Winthrop’s snubbing. - -“You can count on Katherine Winthrop to recommend you to mind your own -business,” Winifred interposed with secret satisfaction, knowing from -Gerry’s report that Miss Winthrop had heard of Olive’s past and glad to -have the truth of the story that she had been repeating confirmed. - -“But don’t you think perhaps it is unkind to be so unfriendly to a girl -for something she cannot help?” Gerry questioned, not so anxious to have -Winifred’s opinion as to clear things up in her own mind. - -Winifred shook her head. “I don’t know how you feel, Gerry, but -honestly, I couldn’t be friends with an Indian girl and I don’t think -she ought to be in so exclusive a school as Primrose Hall, If Miss -Winthrop were anyone but Miss Winthrop I believe some of the girls’ -parents would have complained of Olive before this, but that lady is -just as likely to fire us all out and to keep just this one girl, as she -seems to have such an unaccountable fancy for her. Look here, Gerry, you -and I used to be good friends and Jean Bruce can’t be elected, so why -don’t you give up working for her and come over to my side and not mix -yourself up with this other business? You may be sorry for it some day -and Jean hasn’t a ghost of a show.” - -Gerry jumped several feet off her couch. “Don’t you be so plague-taked -sure, Winifred Graham, that Jean Bruce hasn’t a chance for the election! -And not for anything would I go back on her now! Besides, I have a plan -that, has just come into my mind this very second that may straighten -things out for Jean most beau-ti-fully.” - - - - -CHAPTER XIII - -THE APPEAL TO OLIVE - - -And Gerry’s plan was nothing more or less than to make a direct, -personal appeal to Olive, asking her to aid in the fight for Jean by -making a sacrifice of herself. True, Gerry did not know that Olive was -as yet completely in the dark about Jean’s refusal to join the Theta -sorority because of the failure of the girls to include her in the -invitation, but even with this knowledge Gerry would hardly have been -deterred from her plan. For how could it help Olive to have Jean wreck -her own chances on her account nor how could it alter her classmates’ -attitude toward her? - -The Monday following her talk with Winifred, Gerry overtook Olive, as -both girls were leaving their class room, and coming up close behind her -leaned over and whispered in her ear: “Oh, Olive, I wonder if you could -have a little talk with me this afternoon on strictly private business; -I wish to talk to you quite alone.” - -Although Gerry had never been so rude and cold to her as some of her -other classmates, at this attitude of unexpected intimacy, Olive -appeared surprised. She had no idea that Gerry could be wishing to speak -to her of the class election, for Jean had carefully excluded all -mention of this subject from the conversation in their own rooms and no -one else had seen fit to mention the subject to Olive. - -“Oh, certainly, I shall be delighted to see you at any time,” Olive -nodded, pleased that Gerry should wish to be with her alone. “Why not -come up to our sitting room right now, as our lessons are over for the -afternoon?” - -But with a great appearance of secrecy Gerry shook her curly head. “No, -I am afraid Jean might be bobbing in there at any minute,” she confided, -“and I particularly don’t want her to know just at present what I wish -to say to you.” - -“Suppose I ask Miss Hunt to let us take a walk together without any one -else?” Olive next proposed; “I am sure she will.” - -Half an hour later the two girls, well away from Primrose Hall, were -walking through the nearby woods and yet Gerry had not mentioned the -subject of conversation they had come forth to discuss. - -Curious why she should find it difficult; she was perfectly sure of -having right on her side in this suggestion she was about to make, and -yet there was a quiet, unconscious dignity in Olive’s manner that made -her companion a little fearful of approaching her with advice or -entreaty. Perhaps it might have been just as well to have laid this -matter before Jessica Hunt or, as a last resort, Miss Winthrop, before -forging ahead. But Gerry was an ardent suffragette in the making and, as -she had determined to follow in the footsteps of her brilliant father, -she knew that indecision must never be a characteristic of the new -woman. However, it was just as well to have this stranger girl recognize -her entire friendliness before she made known her mission. - -Having talked of many things together, of their love of the outdoors, of -Jack’s condition, after all it was Olive who at last opened up the way -for her companion’s disclosure. - -“I am sorry to have talked so much,” she said suddenly, “for I have not -yet given you a chance to say what you wished to me. What is it?” - -And all at once her face flooded with color, her eyes widened and she -looked at Gerry with a half-spoken appeal. Up to this moment it had not -occurred to Olive that her classmate’s desire for a private interview -with her could have any serious import, but noticing Gerry’s hesitation -and apparent embarrassment, Olive suddenly believed that she intended -questioning her about her past. And what could she say? Ruth and Jack -had advised her not to reveal her story, and yet if her schoolmate now -asked her for the truth she would not lie. Gerry had always been kinder -than the other girls and possibly thinking the gossip about her false, -her desire now might be to disprove it. - -With a kind of proud humility Olive faced the girl whom she hoped for -the minute wished to be her friend. “What is it?” she asked again. - -Evasion was not Gerry Ferrows’ strong point. “Do you want Jean to be -elected Junior Class president?” she demanded abruptly. - -Olive stared and then laughed happily. “Well, I should say I do, -rather,” she answered. “What a funny thing for you to ask me. And I am -awfully grateful to you for the help you are giving Jean, for she is -awfully ambitious and Ruth and Jack and Jim Colter and all of us would -be so proud of her if she should win after being so short a time at -school.” - -“Well, if you are so anxious for her to win, why don’t you do something -to help her instead of standing in her way?” This question was even more -blunt than the first. And it hurt, because Olive bit her lips. - -“I help her? I stand in her way?” she repeated, stopping in her walk and -turning to face the other girl squarely. “Tell me, please, how I can -help her and how I stand in the way of her election?” - -At this, Gerry Ferrows felt extremely uncomfortable, still she was not -of the kind to turn back. “Well, you can help Jean a whole lot by making -her join our Theta Sorority at once and not hold back any longer because -you have not been invited to join also.” - -There could be no doubt that Olive’s amazement was perfectly genuine. -“Do you mean to tell me that Jean isn’t a Theta already with the girls -tormenting her every minute for weeks to come into the society? Why, I -thought that Jean had joined long ago and simply had not mentioned the -matter to me because of not wishing to talk of a thing that might make -me uncomfortable. I can see now that the girls may not want a class -president who isn’t a member of a sorority, and also that if Jean stays -out of the societies because of me, it makes us seem more like real -sisters instead of just a girl whom Jean’s family is befriending.” - -Gerry nodded, mute for once because Olive had put the case too plainly -for her either to add to it or to contradict. - -“Dear Jean, it is awfully good of her and awfully foolish and just what -I should have expected,” she went on. “Please understand that I am very -sorry both for Jean’s and Frieda’s sakes that I ever came with them as a -student to Primrose Hall and I would have gone away before now only I -could not worry Jacqueline Ralston, who is so ill, or our chaperon, Ruth -Drew, who must give all her time and thought to Jack. But you see none -of us realized that the girls at Primrose Hall would care so much -because my birth and past were so different from theirs. In the West -these things do not count to so great an extent.” - -To her own surprise Gerry Ferrows’ eyes, which were seldom given to this -proceeding, suddenly filled with tears. Like Ishmael of old, Olive -seemed to her to be cast out into the desert for a crime in which she -had no part. - -But if this Indian girl had always been shy and sensitive in her -attitude before the hurt of her schoolmates’ coldness toward her in -times past, at this moment her manner greatly changed. Perhaps because -Olive was so quiet and gentle it had looked as though she had no pride, -but this is not true, for her pride was of a deeper kind than expresses -itself in noise and protest: it was of that unconscious kind associated -with high birth and breeding, the pride that suffers wrong and hurt with -dignity and in silence. - -Now she drew herself up, facing her companion quietly, her dark eyes -quite steady, her lips fixed in a firm line and two bright spots of -color glowing in her dark cheeks. “I cannot tell you how much I thank -you for telling me this about Jean,” she said “and please believe I did -not know of it. Of course you wish me to make Jean see the foolishness -and the utter uselessness of her sacrifice of herself for me and I -surely will. I suppose you must have wondered why I did not do this -before.” - -And still Gerry continued to find conversation increasingly difficult, -though fortunately Olive was saying for her the very things she had -intended to say. Shyly Gerry slipped her arm in school-girl fashion -across Olive’s shoulder, but the other girl drew herself away, not -angrily in the least, but as if she wished neither sympathy nor an -apology. - -“Do let us go on back to the house at once,” she suggested, “for I must -not waste any time before I see Jean, as the election is to take place -so soon. If her connection with me should make her lose it I simply -don’t know what I should do!” - -And forgetting all about the presence of Gerry, Olive started for home, -walking with that peculiar grace and swiftness which was so marked a -characteristic of her training. - -Almost panting, Gerry, who was herself exceedingly athletic, tried to -keep up. “You must not be foolish, Olive,” she begged, “and you are a -brick! Whatever happens it can’t be your fault if we girls at Primrose -Hall are narrow and hateful and blind.” For somehow at this late hour in -their acquaintance Gerry Ferrows had begun to realize that whatever -unfortunate past Olive Ralston may have had, somehow she had managed to -breathe a higher atmosphere than most other girls. In their first -intimate talk together Olive had shown no anger against her classmates -for their cruelty, no envy of Jean’s popularity or desire to claim her -allegiance as a defense against their unkindness. No, she had only been -too anxious to sacrifice herself, to make the way straight for Jean. And -at this moment quite humbly Gerry would have liked to have begged Olive -to allow her to be her friend, only at this time she did not dare. And -as they walked on together in silence some lines that she had learned -that morning in their Shakespeare class in their reading of “The -Winter’s Tale,” came suddenly to her mind. - - “Nothing she does or seems, but smacks of something greater - than herself, - Too noble for this place.” - - - - -CHAPTER XIV - -“TO THINE OWN SELF BE TRUE” - - -Fortunately the two girls had not to spend a minute in looking for Jean, -for no sooner had they entered the front hall of the school than she was -seen talking with a group of friends. - -“Hello,” she cried, pleased to find that Gerry and Olive had been out -together for a walk and grateful for what she thought Gerry’s -friendliness to Olive. - -Olive went straight up to her, too much in earnest to be abashed by the -presence of others. “Come on up to our sitting room, Jean,” she begged, -“for Gerry and I have something to talk to you about that must be -decided at once.” - -It was a pity that Olive must be in such a hurry, Gerry thought a little -impatiently, and also a pity that she had used her name in speaking to -Jean and plainly wished her to be present at their coming interview, for -there was, of course, a possibility that Jean might be a good deal vexed -at her interference. But as Jean left her other friends immediately, -slipping one arm through Olive’s and another through Gerry’s and -propelling them as rapidly as she could up the broad stairs, what was -there for Gerry to do but to surrender and let things take their course? - -“Whatever weighty problem there is on your mind, Olive Ralston, that you -wish me to help you solve,” Jean exclaimed gaily, as they reached their -own door, “kindly remember that three heads are better than one, even if -one is a dunce’s head, else I should never have allowed Geraldine -Ferrows to be present at our council.” And giving each of the girls an -added shove, the three of them plunged headlong into the sitting room. - -Frieda was not to be seen, but to their surprise there before their open -fire Jessica Hunt sat peacefully, holding a large open box of flowers on -her lap, with her cheeks a good deal flushed, possibly from the heat of -the fire. - -“I beg your pardon, children, for having taken possession of your -apartment in this way,” she explained, “but I happen to have a present -for you sent through my care and it seemed to me that the surest way to -find you was to wait at your own hearthstone until you chose to appear.” -While Jessica was speaking she was holding out the box of flowers toward -Jean and Olive. “Mr. Drummond has sent you these with a note to me -asking me to see that you get them.” - -With cries of delight the two ranch girls, pouncing on the great box, -which was brimful of violets, buried their noses in its fragrances. - -“They are just too lovely and too Rainbow ranchy for anything,” Jean -exclaimed, thrusting a bunch into Gerry’s hand. “Won’t Frieda be -homesick for her violet beds when she sees them, even if she is so -enraptured with boarding school that she hardly talks of home any more?” - -While Jean was speaking Olive was busily lifting the flowers from the -box. Just toward the last she discovered a separate bouquet, wrapped in -white paper and bearing a card with a name inscribed upon it. - -“This is for you, Miss Hunt; it has your name upon it,” Olive announced, -trying to look entirely unconscious, although she and Jean both guessed -at once that the gift of the large box of flowers to them had been made -largely in order to include the smaller offering inside it. - -Jessica, assuming a far-away expression of complete indifference, took -the flowers; they were lilies of the valley encircled with violets and -it was difficult for any girl to conceal her delight in them. - -Watching her with her head slightly to one side and a dangerously demure -look on her face, Jean said suddenly, “I wonder, Miss Hunt, how long you -have known our Mr. Drummond? You see, we are awfully fond of him and he -has been very good to all of us, especially to Jack. Sometimes I have -wondered if he could think you and Jack look a little bit alike? Olive -and I think you do. But we don’t know anything about Mr. Drummond except -that he is terribly rich and terribly good looking and very kind. Can’t -you tell us something more?” - -Jessica shook her head gravely. “I am afraid that is all I can tell you -about Peter, I mean Mr. Drummond, that is of any importance. Just that -he is rich and good looking and kind. He is so rich that he has never -done anything or been anything else, and I have known him a great many -years, since I was a small girl and he was a big boy and we used to live -near one another in Washington Square, before my father died and we lost -some of our money.” - -“Well,” Jean returned reflectively, “it seems to me that it is a good -deal to be just rich and good looking and kind, for there are lots of -people who are not one of those three things.” - -And though Jessica was not feeling especially happy at the moment, -Jean’s words made her smile. “That is true, dear,” she returned, “but I -am afraid that I want a man to be more and to mean more in this world -than just that.” She was about to leave the room when Olive put her hand -on her arm. “Don’t go, Jessica, Miss Hunt I mean,” she apologized, “but -I so often think of you as a girl like the rest of us. I want to talk to -Jean about something and I wish you to stay to help me make her behave -sensibly.” - -Still unsuspicious of what Olive had in mind, but realizing now that it -was important, else she would not have called in so many persons to her -assistance, Jean put down her flowers and coming up to her friend placed -one hand on each of her shoulders, looking closely with her own -autumn-toned brown eyes into her friend’s darker ones. - -“Out with it, Olive Ralston. What on earth is it that you wish me to do -that requires so much persuasion?” - -And Olive, equally in earnest, likewise put her hands on Jean’s -shoulders, so that the two girls made an unconscious picture -illustrating the old proverb: “United we stand, divided we fall.” - -“I want you, Jean, please not to be a goose,” Olive pleaded. - -Gay laughter rang out in response. “I knew, Olive, from the first that -you were going to ask me something I could not grant,” Jean returned -plaintively. “Has any one in this world ever heard of a goose who chose -to be one?” - -Her listeners could not help smiling, but Olive’s mood was too intense -for interruption. Without allowing Jean another opportunity for a -moment’s speech she began her request, imploring her to join the Theta -Society at once and not to put it off a day longer than necessary. “For -how, dear, can you do me the least good by not belonging when the girls -want you so much and when if you don’t you may lose your chance at the -Junior election,” she ended. - -“And who, Olive, has been telling you that I am not already a member of -the Theta Society and that my chance for the presidency will be -influenced if I am not?” Jean inquired angrily, although she did not -glance toward any one for her answer save Olive. - -But Gerry Ferrows was not in the least a coward, neither did she feel in -any sense a traitor either to Jean or to Olive, so now she moved quietly -forward. - -“I told Olive, Jean,” she answered, “and you may be angry with me, but I -have no intention of playing a sneak. For the life of me I cannot see -how it will hurt Olive for you to join the Thetas without her and it -will hurt you very much in your election if you don’t. Olive is not -going to be invited to become a member if you stay out and you may lose -the class presidency if you are so obstinate.” - -Olive turned to Jessica Hunt. “Won’t you please tell Jean that Gerry is -perfectly right and that there is no other way of looking at this -matter?” she entreated. “She will just break my heart if she does not, -and I can’t see a bit of sense in her position.” - -“I can,” Jessica answered briefly, “but I would rather not say anything -at all until I have heard just how Jean feels about this whole -business.” - -A grateful look was flashed at her, but Jean moved first toward Gerry. - -“I am awfully sorry I was cross, Gerry,” she murmured, “because of -course I know you are being good as gold to me and only acting for what -you believe to be my good, but I don’t think either you or Olive in the -least understand my position. I am not staying out of the Theta Society -for Olive’s sake; I am staying out for my own.” - -“But that can’t be possible,” both the other girls urged. - -“Gerry Ferrows,” Jean said, “I want you to do me a favor. I want you to -think quietly of what your opinion of another girl would be (leaving me -out of the case entirely) if that girl should win out in a big matter -like a class election by turning her back on her best friend and more -than her friend, her almost sister. And you, Olive, suppose you had no -part in this business at all, or suppose you and I had changed places, -what would you think of a girl who would say to another group of girls, -‘Yes, thank you, I am very grateful indeed to you for permitting me to -enjoy your superior society, even if you do think the people whom I love -and who belong to my family are not worthy of association with you?’ I, -of course, am humbly delighted to be a renegade and a traitor if you -will just let me play with you.” And Jean’s brown eyes were flashing and -her face was pale, yet she laughed a little at her own fierceness. - -“Oh, I won’t pretend that I didn’t think at first of doing just this -thing that you girls are begging me to do,” she went on, “and I argued -it all out in my own mind that I wouldn’t hurt Olive by joining the -Theta’s, but I never could persuade myself that such an action would not -hurt me. See here, dear,” and Jean’s usually merry lips were trembling -as she spoke again directly to Olive. “How could it injure you for me to -forget our friendship and happy years together at the ranch, for -wouldn’t you still be true and loyal and devoted to me? But poor little -me, and what would I be? Wouldn’t I have to live with myself day time -and night time knowing exactly what kind of a wretch I was? No, sir-ee,” -and here Jean struck a highly dramatic attitude, pretending to slip her -fingers inside an imaginary coat. “In the words of that famous -gentleman, whether Henry Clay, or Patrick Henry, or Daniel Webster, I -can’t remember, ‘I would rather be right than President!’” - -“Bravo, Jean,” called Jessica’s voice from the doorway, “I take off my -hat to you! Gerry, Olive, please don’t argue this question any further -with Jean, for she has just said something that we all know to be a -fact: ‘To thine own self be true. Thou canst not then be false to any -man.’” - -Gerry cleared her throat, pulling at her short hair rather like an -embarrassed boy than a clever girl of seventeen. “All right, Jean,” she -conceded; “maybe you are right, and of course you are if you feel as you -say you do, so I shall not try to make you change your opinion.” - -But Olive, equally miserable and unconvinced, standing alone in the -center of the room, said to Jean, “You are dreadfully good, but I don’t -care what you say, I simply can’t allow you to sacrifice yourself in the -way you are doing for me. I must find out how to prevent it and I warn -you now that I shall write to Jack and have her ask you to change your -mind.” - -Jean only laughed. “It would be so like old Jack to ask a fellow to be a -poor sport,” she teased, “but for goodness sake don’t let us talk about -this tedious subject any longer and do let us put the kettle on and all -take tea, for I have talked so much I am nearly dying of thirst.” - -Around a small table the four girls placed themselves, the ranch girls -getting out their tins of cakes and chocolates kept for just such -occasions, and nothing more of a serious character was said until they -were all comfortably sipping their tea. And then Jean turned to Olive. - -“Look here, Olive, I want to ask Gerry a question, if it won’t hurt your -feelings too much, and while Miss Hunt is here with us it seems to me -the best time to ask it. Gerry, of course we have known for some time -that there has been some gossip about Olive going the rounds of the -school, but we have never known who started it nor just what the story -is. Would you mind telling us?” - -Instead of answering Gerry hesitated, her homely, kindly face showing -nervousness and discomfort. - -“Is the story just that Olive does not know who her parents are and that -we ranch girls found her several years ago with an Indian woman and that -she may be of part Indian blood?” Jean continued inexorably. - -Gerry nodded her head. “Yes, and the story came originally through the -Harmons, I believe, though they meant no harm.” - -“Is that all the tale or has anything else been added?” her questioner -continued. And Gerry answered with her eyes on her saucer, “Yes, that is -all.” - -“Then please tell every girl at Primrose Hall that what they have heard -is perfectly true,” Jean blazed, although she was trying to speak -calmly. “I can see now that we have made a mistake; it would have been -better if we had been perfectly candid about Olive’s past from the -first. There never has been a minute when we would have minded telling -it, if any one of the girls had come and asked us, but lately I have -thought that some extra story must have been hatched up about poor Olive -and joined to the true one, for I simply couldn’t believe that any human -beings could be so horrid and so stupid as the Primrose Hall girls have -been to Olive, unless they had been told something perfectly dreadful -about her. Well, I don’t think I care a snap about being class president -of such a set of girls,” Jean added impolitely, forgetting one of her -guests. “Olive Ralston, I don’t believe you are any more an Indian than -I am, but I want to say just this one more thing and then I positively -promise to stop talking: For my part I would rather have good red Indian -blood in my veins than the kind of thin white blood that must run in the -veins of such a horrid set of snobs. Gerry, dear, I do beg your pardon -and of course I don’t mean you, but if I hadn’t been allowed to speak -this out loud, I should certainly have exploded.” - -Gerry’s head dropped. “Well, perhaps I have belonged to the snobs, too, -Jean,” she answered truthfully, “but if Olive will forgive me and make -up, perhaps some day we may be friends.” - -Slowly the sitting-room door now opened and a languid figure, clothed in -a marvelous dressing gown of pale blue silk and lace, with yellow hair -piled high on its head, entered the room. “What on earth is Jean -preaching about?” the voice of no other person than the youngest Miss -Ralston inquired. “I have just been across the hall with Mollie and Lucy -Johnson and I declare she has been talking steadily for an hour.” - -Jessica Hunt made some laughing explanation, but Olive and Jean could -only stare in amazement at Frieda. Where on earth had she gotten so -marvelous a kimono? It really looked like a stage affair. But at this -instant, beholding the violets, Frieda, forgetting her grown-up manner -for a moment, jumped at them. “Aren’t they too beau-ti-ful?” she said -like the small girl who once had taken care of her own violet beds at -The Rainbow Lodge. - - - - -CHAPTER XV - -THE DANGER OF WEALTH - - -The truth of the matter was that Frieda Ralston would have been somewhat -happier and certainly a great deal better off in many respects could she -now have turned back the pages of her existence for a few months and -been again that same little yellow-haired girl who was the beloved of -every man, woman and child within the thousand acres of the Rainbow -Ranch, for Frieda had lately been getting into a kind of mischief that -is of a serious nature, whether practiced by a young girl or by very -much older persons. She had been spending far too much money. - -After the trip to New York and the purchase of the blue silk gown and -velvet coat a number of weeks before, the desire for beautiful clothes -awoke in Frieda. Remember that she was only a Western ranch girl and had -never dreamed of such splendors as the New York shops afforded, neither -did she have any very clear idea of the real value of money. Because -gold had been discovered on their ranch and because Jack was sending her -fifty dollars as pin money each month, Frieda considered that their -wealth must be fabulous and so she had contracted the very dangerous -habit of buying whatever she wished without considering the cost, and -the way she managed to do this was by making bills! - -Earlier in the season, when the girls had found it difficult to go into -town for every little purchase it became necessary for them to make, -Ruth had opened a charge account for the three ranch girls at one of the -best of the New York shops, but the bills were expected to be sent to -the girls and to be paid out of their allowances. Jean and Olive had -made only a few necessary purchases, but though no one else knew of it, -Frieda had lately been buying with utter recklessness. - -Indeed, the gorgeous kimono which had just electrified the other two -ranch girls was only one of a number of articles that had arrived that -very afternoon and been delivered in the care of Mollie Johnson. Hanging -up in Mollie’s closet at the same instant was an equally charming -garment, almost of the same kind as Frieda’s, save that it was pink and -but lately presented by Frieda to her best friend. - -So it would appear that even though Frieda might be keeping the letter -of the law in not speaking of their wealth at Primrose Hall, she was -certainly not obeying it in spirit, and indeed she had broken her -promise altogether on the afternoon when she and Mollie had been alone -together, while Olive and Jean were drinking tea at “The Towers.” - -Not that she had meant to do this when Mollie came in; far from it. The -story had just leaked out quite innocently at first. For Frieda -naturally began the conversation with her friend by telling her that -Jean and Olive had gone to tea with the Harmons, and then that they had -learned to know the Harmons because they had rented their ranch to them -the summer before. From the ranch the speaker traveled very naturally to -the Yellowstone and the story of Jack, told many times before, and -coming back again to the ranch ended with Mr. Harmon’s effort to buy the -Rainbow Mine. - -When this word “mine” popped out, Frieda had stopped suddenly, but it -was soul satisfying to observe how her friend Mollie’s eyes had grown -wider and bigger with admiration and surprise at her words. “Why, Frieda -Ralston,” Mollie had reproached at once, “you don’t mean to tell me that -you are an heiress as well as everything else that is interesting! Why, -you have let me think that you were poor before, though I have wondered -sometimes about the lovely things you have been buying. Do please tell -me whether your mine is copper or silver or pure gold?” - -To Frieda’s credit it must be stated that when Mollie thus began her -very natural investigation of her story, she felt at once both sorry and -frightened. “It is a secret, Mollie,” she began; “that is, I don’t see -any sense in its being, but I have promised Jack and Jean and Ruth Drew -not to talk about our money at Primrose Hall, since we would rather have -our friends just know us as ranch girls, but we really have a gold mine. -Do you see why I shouldn’t talk about it?” - -Earnestly Mollie shook her head. - -“Well, I suppose I shouldn’t, so long as I have promised,” Frieda -conceded; “but now I have told you of it without meaning to, I am glad, -for I do just want to talk about it with somebody and you are my dearest -friend and I wish you to know everything about me.” - -Frieda might have said that she wished Mollie to know all the nice -things about her, for it really is not our faults that we long to pour -into the ears of our friends. - -The invalid, who had been stretched on the couch with a bad cold for the -past hour or so, now curled her feet up under her and rested her chin on -her hands. “Want me to tell you every single thing about our mine?” she -demanded. “It is quite like a fairy story.” - -And of course there is nobody in the world (and certainly not Mollie -Johnson) who does not like to hear of the finding of a mine. - -“Cross your heart and body that you’ll never betray me; say you wish you -may die if you do,” Frieda abjured. And promising everything and making -all the mystic signs necessary to eternal secrecy, Mollie then had -listened to the unfolding of the fairy tale. - -Frieda had not really intended to make her story a fairy tale, but she -had no more idea of how much money the Rainbow Mine produced than a -baby, and of course with the telling of her tale the size of the nuggets -that Jim was getting out of the mine each week naturally grew. - -“You see,” Frieda explained, warming with her subject, “we simply don’t -know how rich we are. Jim, our overseer at the ranch, who now looks -after our mine, says you never can tell at first how much a mine may -yield. Perhaps we may be millionaires some day.” - -The word millionaire was an entirely new one in Frieda’s vocabulary, -which she had learned since coming to Primrose Hall, but certainly it -had a magnificent sound and made Mollie blink. - -“It sounds just too wonderful,” the little Southern girl sighed, “and I -do declare, Frieda, that if I didn’t love you more than most anybody I -should feel envious. We aren’t rich a bit; my father is just a lawyer in -Richmond and while we have a pretty house and all that, why we have some -other brothers and sisters, and father says all he can afford to do is -to let Lucy and me have two years apiece at Primrose Hall. He can’t give -us money for the wonderful clothes you buy. Won’t I be proud if you can -make me a visit in the Christmas holidays to show you and your lovely -things to my friends!” And Mollie began twisting into curls the ends of -her Frieda’s yellow braids and looking up at her with an even increased -admiration. - -Such a rush of recklessness and affection then seized hold on the -youngest Miss Ralston, that without even discussing the question with -Mollie, she immediately arose from her couch and rushing to her desk -indited a letter to a New York firm asking that the two kimonos be sent -her at once with slippers and stockings to match. For her beloved Mollie -was just too sweet and sympathetic for anything and quite unlike adopted -sisters and relations, who scolded and put on airs when one’s affairs -went a bit wrong. Frieda would have liked at the instant of writing her -letter to have poured all her wealth at her friend’s feet, but all that -she could do more was to invite her to come into town the next week to -be her guest at the matinee and lunch and to help her make a few more -purchases. - -For Frieda’s December bill had not yet arrived and her check had, and so -for the time being, like many another person, she felt fairly well off, -although her allowance for the past two months had melted away like wax -without her being able to pay back a single cent of the money to either -Jean or Olive, which they had advanced to help with her first -extravagance, the blue silk dress and velvet coat. - -One of the subjects that a great many people discuss, with a good deal -more money at their disposal than Frieda had at present, is the way that -five-dollar bills have of disappearing in New York City. So by the time -Frieda had paid for three tickets to the matinee, as the girls were of -course compelled to bring a chaperon into town with them, and three -lunches at a fashionable restaurant, there was so little of her money -left out of her original amount that again she was obliged to do some -charging on her account, in order to get the few more things that she -and Mollie decided might be needed in case she paid the visit in -Richmond toward the close of December. - -On the way back to Primrose Hall, however, seated on the train and -feeling a bit weary, Frieda wished that she had not spent this extra -money. Now she wouldn’t be able to pay her debts until January, and what -with Christmas coming, there would be so many presents for others that -she would wish to buy! So once Frieda sighed, but when Mollie, giving -her a hug, demanded to know what worried her, she would not say. For how -confess that money matters were worrying her but a few days after the -time when she had announced herself as an heiress? Of course Jack and -Ruth would see that she was supplied with extra money at Christmas time, -if they should consent to let her make the trip south, and out of this -amount she would certainly save enough to pay her bills, without having -to confess her extravagances. For Frieda knew that Jack and Ruth would -both be angry and ashamed of her for breaking her promise and for buying -things which she did not really need. - - - - -CHAPTER XVI - -ELECTION DAY - - -The day for the election of the president of the Junior Class had -arrived at last. Lessons were over at noon and from three o’clock until -six in the afternoon Jessica Hunt and Miss Sterne would remain in the -library at Primrose Hall watching over the ballot box. Immediately after -six the box would be opened, the ballots counted and the choice of the -Juniors announced. - -For December had come with her white frosts and cold, brilliant days and -the fields about Primrose Hall were sere and brown. Now and then in the -past few weeks a light snow had fallen and the shore waters of the -Hudson River would then be trimmed with a fine fringe of ice. Once the -election was over the Primrose Hall students would be making plans for -the Christmas holidays, but until then nothing else, not even home and -family, appeared of so great importance. - -Do not think because Gerry’s appeal to Olive to save Jean had gone -astray that she had given up the fight for her friend’s cause. Indeed, -like many another brave campaigner, she had only worked the harder, -rallying Jean’s friends closer around her, exhorting her enemies and -trying to persuade the girls on the fence that there was no real point -in their antagonism toward Olive. And in all the efforts Gerry had made -she had had an able lieutenant in Margaret Belknap, Jean’s other devoted -friend. - -For herself Jean could do little electioneering, realizing that unless -her classmates desired her to represent them by reason of the character -she had already established among them, nothing she could do or say at -this late day should influence them. And Jean had also never wavered -from the attitude she had taken in regard to Olive on the afternoon of -their final discussion of the subject. She had not needed that her -resolution be strengthened, but if she had, letters from Ruth Drew and -Jack Ralston would certainly have accomplished it. For Olive, true to -her threat, had written them the entire situation, begging that Jean be -persuaded from the error of her ways. Instead of the reply she hoped -for, Ruth and Jack had both emphatically declared Jean’s position the -only possible one. - -All the morning in the hours just before the election Jean had been -conscious that Olive’s eyes were fixed on her whenever their presence in -one of the class rooms made it possible. Her expression was so wistful -and apologetic that Jean began to care more for her own success on -Olive’s account than her own. So as soon as luncheon was over and three -o’clock had come around, slipping her arm through her adopted sister’s, -she drew her along the hall toward the library door. - -“Come on, Olive, child, and cast your vote for me and then let us go -upstairs and stay hidden away until the election is over. Then Gerry and -Margaret will let us know the result. If I were a really high-minded -person I suppose I should now vote for my rival, Miss Graham, but as I -can’t bring myself up to that point, I’ll just slip in a piece of paper -for old Gerry.” - -Ten minutes after this conversation Jean and Olive were in their own -sitting room for the entire afternoon, having placed a sign outside -announcing that no one could be admitted. Of course both ranch girls -were excited and nervous, but of the two Olive was plainly the more -affected, for while Jean talked and laughed in a perfectly natural -fashion, she was pale and silent and oftentimes on the verge of tears. - -The day was cold and lovely and outside the sun shone on the bare -upturned branches of the trees and on the broad bosom of the earth. - -“Silly child,” Jean began, arranging her paper and ink on the writing -table before one of their windows, “why should you behave as though the -question of my election was the only important thing in the world. On a -day like this I only feel desperately homesick for Jack and the old -ranch. What wouldn’t I give if we were all there to-day and just -starting out on a long, hard ride? Sometimes I am so desperate about -never seeing Jack that I don’t know what to do. I think I will write to -Jim and to Ralph Merrit this afternoon, for it will help to make the -time pass faster than anything else. I am afraid I have treated Ralph -rather badly, as I promised to write him often and have only written -twice. Then I want to ask Jim if he is really coming east to see how -Jack is getting on. I wonder if he will hate to see Ruth again or like -it? One never can tell about a person in love.” - -Perhaps Jean’s thought of her old friends and affairs at the Rainbow -Ranch may have had a cheering influence upon her, for no sooner had she -put her pen to the paper than apparently all worry and suspense left her -and she scratched away rapidly and clearly for several hours. - -But poor Olive found no such distraction or solace; indeed, she kept up -such a restless and unnecessary moving about the room that at any other -time Jean most certainly would Lave scolded. First she tried studying -her Shakespeare, since she was making a special effort to succeed in the -Shakespeare class, and before coming east to school had read only a few -plays with Ruth and the ranch girls in the big living room at the Lodge. -But not the most thrilling historic drama nor the most delightful comedy -by William Shakespeare could to-day take her mind from the one idea that -engrossed it. After half an hour of merely pretending to read, she flung -her book down on the floor, saying petulantly: “Tiresome stuff! I wonder -what ever made me think for an instant I could stand any chance of -getting the Shakespeare prize?” - -Jean smiled. “Oh, I suppose, Olive, because Ruth and all of us thought -you had a lot of talent for reciting and acting and you dearly love to -read and study at most times. But why don’t you go out for a walk, you -can find Frieda somewhere around downstairs and make her go with you. I -don’t want to.” - -“And I don’t want to either and won’t,” Olive answered with a good deal -more temper than usual with her, and flying into her own room, she -banged the door behind her. Rummaging about for some occupation, she -came across a piece of sewing which she had once started at the Lodge, -some white silk cut in the shape of a round cap to be covered over with -small white pearl beads. - -Slipping back once more into the sitting room, Olive found a low stool -by the fire and there tried to see whether sewing would have a more -soothing influence upon her than reading for the two more hours that had -somehow to be disposed of. Yes, sewing on this occasion was more -distracting than reading, for very soon Olive’s fingers worked -automatically while her brain began to concern itself with interesting -and puzzling ideas. The many hours which she had spent alone at Primrose -Hall had not been wholly unprofitable—lonely hours need never be unless -we choose to make them so—but Olive perhaps had more to think of and to -ponder over than most girls of her age who have not led such eventful -lives. - -After her afternoon call at “The Towers” and her conversation later with -Miss Winthrop, Olive had been reading all the books in the school -library that she could find, which might help her explain the curious -experience—confided to no one—through which she had passed that -afternoon. But it was not just this one experience that had puzzled and -worried Olive, for many strange fancies, impressions, memories, she knew -not what to call them, had been drifting into her mind since her first -sight of that white house on the hill on the morning after her arrival -at Tarry dale. The ideas had no special connection with anything that -was definite, but Olive was lately beginning to believe that she could -recall dim ideas and events having no connection with the years she had -spent in the Indian tent with old Laska. But why had these far-off -memories not assailed her in the two years at the Rainbow Ranch? Perhaps -then the recollection of Laska, of her son Josef, who had treated her -with such an odd mixture of respect and cruelty, of the Indian people -about her whom she had so disliked, had been too close, too omnipresent -in her mind. Had she needed to come far away from the West and its -associations to feel that she had come home? No, it was impossible, for -Olive felt sure that she had never been east before in her life. - -Finally the clock struck five and then half-past and at last six. - -Jean, some moments before, had ceased writing and now sat calmly folding -up her pile of letters, placing them in their respective envelopes. She -looked tired and perhaps a trifle pale but composed. At last she got up -from her chair and crossing the floor knelt down in front of Olive, -taking the piece of sewing from her cold fingers. - -“Olive dear,” she said unexpectedly, “you are looking positively ill -from thinking of something or other and worrying over me. For both our -sakes I wish that Jack could be with us this afternoon just for the next -hour. I know I have not been elected the Junior president. I never have -really expected to be, but just as I sat there writing about half an -hour ago I knew I had not been. Now see here, Olive, I have been -thinking that I have been defeated for more than thirty minutes and yet -look at me! Do I look heartbroken or as if I were very deeply -disappointed?” And Jean smiled quietly and serenely at her companion. -“Promise me that when the girls come in in a few minutes to tell me I -have not been elected, that you will take things sensibly and not think -that you have had anything to do with my failure.” - -Olive shook her head. “How can I promise such a thing, Jean, when I know -perfectly well it isn’t true,” she answered, vainly attempting to hide -the fact that she was trembling with excitement and that her ears were -strained forward to catch the first noise of footsteps coming toward -their door. - -Sighing, Jean continued, “Oh, you silly child, what shall I say or do -with you? Don’t you know if the girls had really wanted me for president -nothing and no one could have stood in my way?” - -The shove which Olive gave her, slight though it was, nearly made Jean -tumble backwards. “Why do you talk as though you knew positively you had -not been elected, Jean Bruce, when you really know absolutely nothing -about it. I am sorry I pushed you, but I thought I heard some one coming -down the hall.” - -As Olive had gotten to her feet, Jean now arose also. No one had -appeared to interrupt them. - -“I know by this time that I have not been elected,” Jean said, “because -it must now be some little time after six o’clock and Miss Sterne and -Jessica could never have taken so long a time as this to count the few -ballots of the Junior class.” - -However, there was no doubt at this instant of noises out in the hall -approaching nearer and nearer the ranch girls’ sitting room. - -It was Olive who rushed to the door and fairly tore it open, while Jean -waited calmly in the center of the room. - -Outside were Gerry and Margaret Belknap, Frieda and Lucy and Mollie -Johnson, and one look at the five faces told the waiting girls the -truth. Coming in, Margaret flung her arms about Jean and Gerry took a -farm clasp of Olive’s hand. - -“I never would have believed it in the world!” she exclaimed. - - - - -CHAPTER XVII - -CONGRATULATIONS - - -By this time the usually self-contained Margaret was weeping bitterly in -Jean’s arms, while she patted her reassuringly on the back. Gerry looked -utterly exhausted, her hair was in a perfect tumble and a smut -ornamented one of her cheeks. Frieda had turned toward the wall and Lucy -and Mollie Johnson each had an arm about her. - -“Well, girls, the game is up, isn’t it?” Jean spoke first, but Olive -simply would not accept what her eyes had already told her. - -“It isn’t true, Jean hasn’t been defeated, has she Gerry?” she -entreated, squeezing the hand that held hers. - -“Winifred Graham has just been elected president of the Junior class at -Primrose Hall for the coming year!” Gerry announced stoically, and then -there was a sudden sound of weeping from all parts of the sitting room. - -“Why, goodness gracious, girls, don’t take things like this,” Jean -insisted, being the only dry-eyed person on the scene. “Margaret dear, -you are positively wetting my shirtwaist. Of course, I am sorry not to -have been elected, but I’m not disappointed, as I haven’t thought lately -that I could be. And please, this isn’t anybody’s funeral.” Then Jean -kissed Margaret and walked over to shake hands with Gerry. - -“You have both worked terribly hard for me and I never can cease to be -grateful to you, but now that things are all over do let us show the -girls that we can take defeat gracefully anyhow. Please everybody stop -crying at once and come on with me to shake hands and offer my -congratulations to Winifred Graham. Wouldn’t we look a sorry set if the -next time she beheld us we should all appear to have been washed away in -tears? The first person that looks cheerful in this room shall have a -five-pound box of candy from me in the morning.” - -Of course Jean’s suggestion that Winifred Graham should not learn the -bitterness with which they accepted their defeat had an immediate -effect, as she had guessed it would, upon Gerry and Margaret. Both girls -stiffened up at once. - -“Jean is perfectly right,” Margaret immediately agreed, “for it will -never do in the world for us to make a split in our Junior class just -because things have not gone as we wanted. Lots of the girls did vote -for Jean and if we take our defeat bravely, why Winifred Graham and her -set can’t crow over us half so much as if we show our chagrin.” - -Gerry made such a funny face over the prospect of Winifred’s crowing -that everybody was able to summon a faint laugh. - -“Come on at once then, let us go and offer our congratulations to -Winifred while we have our courage screwed to the sticking point. For my -part I would rather do my duty and remember my manners without delay.” - -And Jean opened the door, believing that all her friends would follow -her. Once in the hall, however, she soon discovered that Olive was -missing and going back called out softly: “Come on, Olive, and help us -congratulate the winner. You wouldn’t have us show an ugly spirit now, -would you?” - -But Olive quietly shook her head. And as Jean was by no means sure how -Winifred might receive any attention from Olive, she forbore to insist -on her accompanying them. Should Winifred be disagreeable under the -present circumstances Jean was not perfectly sure of being able to keep -cool; and of all things she must not show temper at the present moment. -Besides, her few minutes’ conversation with Olive, before the coming of -the girls to announce her defeat, had evidently borne good fruit, for -Olive did not appear particularly distressed at the result of the -election. After a first moment of breaking down she had entirely -regained her self-control. Truly Jean was delighted at seeing her so -sensible. - -One, two, three minutes passed after the other girls’ departure and an -entire silence reigned in the room, Olive standing perfectly still. Had -Jean been pleased because she had accepted her failure so sensibly? -Sensibly! why Olive had not spoken simply because she could not trust -herself to speak. She had not cried, because in the first moments of -humiliation and regret, there are but few people who can at once summon -tears. Of course, Olive was taking the affair too seriously and Jean’s -view was the only reasonable one, but she had not been defeated herself, -she had stood in the way of her friend’s victory and this last blow had -come to her after months of coldness and neglect on the part of her -classmates, which she had borne bravely and in silence. Now Olive was -through with courage and with silence. - -At last she seemed to have made up her mind to some action, for the -relief of tears came. Going into her own room, Olive flung herself face -downward on the bed, giving herself up to the luxury of this weakness. -When she arose her face wore a look of unusual determination. Whatever -her fight, it was ended now. First she walked over to her bureau and -there unlocking a small iron safe took out a sandalwood box, a box which -all who have followed her history, know to be the single possession she -had rescued from the Indian woman before running away from her for the -last time. - -The girl carried her few treasures to her desk and before beginning the -letter she plainly intended writing, she picked them up one by one, -looking at them closely, the silver cross and chain worn on the evening -of the dance, the small book only a few inches in size, and the watch -with the picture of a woman’s face in it, the picture that Ruth and the -ranch girls had always believed to look like Olive. - -At the face she looked longest, but after a few moments this also was -laid aside for the work she had in mind. - -“DEAR RUTH” (her letter read): - -“I write to tell you that I am not willing to remain longer as a student -at Primrose Hall. I am sorry to trouble you with this news and if Jack -is too ill to be worried, please do not mention this to her. I have -tried very hard to bear my difficulties here and truly I would have gone -on without complaining, for I can live without the friendship of other -girls so long as you and the ranch girls care for me, but what I cannot -bear is to be a drawback to Jean and Frieda and to stand in their way as -I do here. I do not know what to ask you to do with me, for I cannot go -back to live among the Indians until I know more than I do now and am -able to teach them. Can I not go to some little school where the girls -will not care so much about my past? But if you are not willing for me -to do this, and I know how little I am worthy of all you and the ranch -girls have done for me, you must not mind if I find some work to do, so -that I can make my living. For no matter what happens, I can remain no -longer at Primrose Hall. - -“With all love, OLIVE.” - -And when the letter was finished Olive, whose head was hot and aching, -rested it for a moment on the desk upon her folded arms. When she lifted -it, because of a noise nearby, Miss Katherine Winthrop was standing only -a few feet away. - -“I beg your pardon, I knocked at your door, Olive, but you must have -failed to hear me and then I came inside, for I wanted to talk to you.” - -The fact that Miss Katherine Winthrop in some remarkable fashion seemed -always to know, almost before it happened, every event that transpired -at Primrose Hall, with the causes that led to it, was well recognized by -her pupils. So of course she now knew not only that Winifred Graham had -been elected to the Junior Class presidency, but the particular reason -why Jean had been defeated. - -“I am sorry to have you see that I have been crying, Miss Winthrop,” -Olive said, knowing that there was no use in trying to disguise the -truth. “I know you think it very foolish and stupid of me.” - -Miss Winthrop sat down in a big chair, beckoning the young girl to a -stool near her feet. “Well, I suppose I do usually discourage tears,” -she answered with a half smile; “at least, I know my girls think I am -very unsympathetic about them. But I suppose now and then we women are -just obliged to weep, being made that way. What I want to talk to you -about is Jean’s defeat at the election this afternoon. You feel -responsible for it, don’t you?” - -Why be surprised at Miss Winthrop’s knowledge of her feelings, as -apparently she knew everything? So Olive merely bowed her head. - -“I want to ask you to tear up the letter which you have just written -asking your friends to let you leave Primrose Hall because of what has -happened.” - -Miss Winthrop’s eyes had not apparently been turned for an instant -toward the desk on which her letter lay, and even so she could not have -seen inside a sealed envelope. Olive stared, almost gasped. “How could -you know, Miss Winthrop?” - -Miss Winthrop put her hand on Olive’s dark hair, so black that it seemed -to have strange colors of its own in it. “I didn’t know about your -letter, dear, I only guessed that after the experience you have passed -through this afternoon, with what has gone before, you were almost sure -to have written it. And I want to ask you to stay on at Primrose Hall.” - -Olive shrank away, shaking her head quietly. “I have made up my mind,” -she returned; “I have been thinking of it before and now I am quite -determined.” - -A moment’s silence followed and then in a different voice, as though she -were not speaking directly to the girl before her, Miss Winthrop went -on. “I believe there are but three types of people in this world, be -they men or women, that I cannot endure,—a coward, a quitter and a snob. -Unfortunately I have discovered that there are among the girls here in -my school a good many snobs. I guessed it before you ranch girls came to -me and now that I have seen what you have been made to suffer, I am very -sure. But, Olive, I want you to help me teach my girls the weakness, the -ugliness, the foolishness of snobbery. And can you help me, if though -not a snob, you are one or both of the other two things I have -mentioned?” - -“A coward and a quitter?” Olive repeated slowly, wondering at the older -woman’s choice of these two words and yet knowing that no others could -express her meaning so forcibly. - -“But I would not be going away on my own account, but for the sake of -Jean and Frieda,” she defended. - -“I think not. You may just now be under that impression, but if you -think things over, does it not come back at last to you? You feel you -have endured the slights and coldness of your classmates without -flinching and it has hurt. Yes, but not like the hurt that comes to you -with the feeling that your presence in the school is reflecting on -Frieda and Jean. They do not wish you to go away, Olive, they will be -deeply sorry if you do and whatever harm you may think you have done -them has already been done and can’t be undone. No, dear, if you go away -from Primrose Hall now it is because of your own wounded feelings, -because your pride which you hide way down inside you has been touched -at last!” - -Miss Winthrop said nothing more, but turned and looked away from her -listener. - -For Olive was trying now to face the issue squarely and needed no -further influence from the outside. By and by she put her small hand on -Miss Winthrop’s firm, large one. “I won’t go,” she replied. “I believe I -_have_ been thinking all this time about myself without knowing it, You -made me think of Jack when you spoke of a coward and a quitter, for they -are the kind of words she would have been apt to use.” - -Miss Winthrop laughed. “Oh, I have been a girl in my day too, Olive, and -I haven’t forgotten all I learned. Indeed, I believe I learned those two -words and what they stood for from a boy friend of mine long years ago. -Now I want to talk to you about yourself.” The woman leaned over, and -putting her two fingers under Olive’s sharply pointed chin, she tilted -her head back so that she could see in sharp outline every feature of -the girl’s face. - -“Olive, your friend Miss Drew told me on bringing you here to Primrose -Hall what she and your friends knew of your curious story, of their -finding you with an old Indian woman with whom you had apparently lived -a great many years. I believe that the woman claimed you as her -daughter, but though no one believed her, your Western friends have -never made any investigation about your past, fearing that this Indian -woman might again appear to claim you.” - -“Yes,” the girl gratefully agreed. - -“Well, Olive, I have seen a great deal of the world and very many people -in it and since the idea that you are an Indian worries you so much, I -want to assure you I do not believe for a moment you have a trace of -Indian blood in you. Except that you have black hair and your skin is a -little darker than Anglo-Saxon peoples, there is nothing about you to -carry a remote suggestion of the Indian race. Why, dear, your features -are exquisitely thin and fine, your eyes are large. The idea is too -absurd! I wonder if you could tell me anything about yourself and if you -would like me to try to find out something of your history. Perhaps I -might know better how to go about it than your Western friends.” - -For answer Olive rose and going over to her desk, returned with the -sandalwood box containing her three treasures. “This is all I have of my -own,” she said, first putting the box into Miss Winthrop’s lap and then -tearing up the letter just written to Ruth, before sitting down again on -her stool near the older woman. Gratefully she touched her lips to Miss -Winthrop’s hand, saying: “I would like very much to tell you all I can -recall about myself, for lately queer ideas and impressions have come to -me and I believe I can remember a time and people in my life, whom I -must have known long before old Laska and the Indian days.” - - - - -CHAPTER XVIII - -FANCIES OR MEMORIES? - - -Miss Winthrop nodded. “Tell me everything you can recall and keep back -nothing for fear it is not the whole truth or that I will not -understand. Whoever your father and mother may have been, you certainly -have ancestors of whom you need not be ashamed.” - -Then Olive, clasping her fingers together over her knee with her eyes on -the floor, began to speak. And first she told the story of the Indian -village and of Laska and how she could not recall a time when she had -not spoken English as white people speak it, then of her years at the -Government school for Indians taught by a white woman, who had always -been her friend and assured her that she was not of the same race as the -Indian children about her. But in proof of this she had nothing save the -ornaments in the sandalwood box, which, in the interest of her story, -Miss Winthrop had not yet examined. - -Yes, and one thing more Olive could remember. Through all the years she -had lived with the Indian woman there had come to old Laska in the mail -each month a certain sum of money, large enough to keep her and her son -in greater wealth and idleness than any of the other Indians in the -village enjoyed. But from what place this money had come nor who had -sent it Olive did not know, and so to her this fact did not seem of -great value, although Miss Winthrop’s face had shown keen interest on -hearing it. - -“Was there not a postmark on the outside of the letter, Olive?” she -demanded. - -Clasping her fingers over her eyes in a way she had when puzzled, the -girl waited a moment. “Why, yes, there was,” she said slowly. “How -strange and stupid of me never to have thought of this before! The -postmark was New York! But New York meant nothing to me in those days, -Miss Winthrop, except just a name on a map at school. You cannot guess -how strange and ignorant I was until the ranch girls found me and began -teaching me a few things that were not to be found in school books. But -no one could have sent money to Laska for me from New York. I must have -been mistaken and this money did not come for me as I have always hoped. -Laska must have received it for some other reason.” And then Olive, -either from weariness or disappointment, stopped in her narrative, not -as though she had told all that she knew, but because she could not -quite make up her mind to go on. - -A few moments of quiet waiting and then Miss Winthrop spoke again: - -“The money was sent Laska for your care, Olive, I am sure of it. But -this story of the Indian woman and your life there you have told to -other persons, to the ranch girls and your chaperon, Miss Drew. What I -most wish you to confide to me are the ideas and impressions of the -years when you may not always have lived in the Indian village.” - -Sadly the girl shook her head. “Miss Winthrop, the fancies that I have -had lately have been too ridiculous for me to feel I can confide even to -you, kind as you are to me. For how can it be possible that a human -being can remember things at one time of their life and not have known -them always? Why, since my arrival at Primrose Hall, do I seem to recall -impressions that I did not have at the Rainbow Ranch?” - -The older woman did not reply at once, as she was pondering over the -question just asked her. “Olive,” she returned slowly, “I believe I can -in a measure understand this problem that troubles you. Half the -memories that we have in the world come through association. It is the -sight of an object that recalls something in our past which brings that -past back to us. Now when you were living at the Rainbow Ranch the -memory of your life with Laska, the fear that she might take you away -from your friends, was so close to you that you thought of little else. -But now you are in an entirely different place, the fear of the woman -has gone from you; it is but natural, I think, that new and different -associations should bring to life new memories. What is there that you -have been recalling in these past few months?” - -And still the girl hesitated. “It is so absurd of me,” she murmured at -last, “but one of my most foolish ideas is that I have seen the big, -white house where Madame Van Mater lives at some time before. Of course, -I know I have not seen it, for I have never been in this part of the -world before. But the other day, standing at the window, I suddenly -remembered a description of the Sleepy Hollow scenery, which I must have -read and learned long years ago, though I never thought of it until that -moment.” - -Miss Winthrop’s face was now more puzzled than the speaker’s by reason -of her deeper knowledge of life. “Go on,” she insisted quietly. “Can you -recall anything more about the house and do you think that you ever saw -Madame Van Mater before the other day?” The strange note in her -questioner’s voice was lost upon the girl at her feet. - -“No, I never saw Madame Van Mater in my life and I do not like her,” -Olive returned quickly. “The furniture inside the house did not seem -familiar, only the outside and the tower room and those ridiculous iron -dogs guarding the front door. But I want to tell you something that -seems to me important—of course, my impression about Madame Van Mater’s -home is sheer madness. What I really can remember is this—” Olive -stopped for a moment as though trying to be very careful of only telling -the truth. “I remember that when I was a very little girl I must have -traveled about from one place to another a great deal, for I do not -think I ever had a home nor do I remember my mother. My father, lately I -have believed I have a real impression of him,” and Olive’s eyes, turned -toward her teacher, were big with mystery and hope. “He must have been -very tall, or at least he seemed so to me then, and I went about with -him everywhere. Finally we came to a place where we stayed a much longer -time and there Laska first must have come to take care of us. I think -now that my father must have died in that place, for I can not remember -anything more of him and ever afterwards I lived on with Laska and the -Indians. That isn’t very much to know and of nothing am I perfectly -certain,” Olive ended with a sigh, seeing that Miss Winthrop had not -spoken and supposing therefore that she considered her idle fancies of -little account. - -The older woman now sat with one elbow on the arm of her chair, her hand -shading her eyes so that it was impossible to catch the expression of -her face. Whatever idea had come to her with the hearing of her pupil’s -strange story, she did not now mean to reveal. - -“It is all very interesting, Olive,” she answered, quietly, “and surely -very puzzling, so that I am not surprised at your putting but little -faith in your own recollections, for I cannot see any possible -connection between your travels in the West as a little child and your -idea that you had seen some old house like ‘The Towers.’ But there is -one person who can tell us something of your early history without -doubt—and that person is this woman Laska! She kept you with her all -those years for money and probably pretends that you are with her still, -so that she continues to receive the same money each month, else she -would have made another effort to get hold of you. Well, if the love of -money has made the Indian woman keep your secret, perhaps an offer of -more money will make her tell it. We will not speak of this, Olive dear, -to any one in the world at present, but I will write to your old teacher -at the Government school in the Indian village and perhaps through her -aid we may reach this Laska.” - -Olive made no answer, for to have expressed ordinary thanks in the face -of so great interest and kindness would have been too inadequate. What -could she say? Besides, Miss Winthrop was now looking at her few -treasures in the sandalwood box. - -“I have seen your cross and chain before,” she said, letting it slip -through her fingers as once more she examined its curious workmanship, -“but this little book—why, it is written in Spanish and is a Spanish -prayer book.” Then for a second time Miss Winthrop put her hand under -Olive’s chin, studying the unusual outline of her face. “I wonder if you -are a Spanish girl, child, for that would explain why you are darker -than most Americans and why you have so foreign an appearance?” - -Olive, silently opening the watch, lifted the picture inside it to her -friend’s gaze. - -Miss Winthrop looking at the picture nodded, and then began turning the -watch over in her hand; strangely enough, not so deeply interested in -the photograph as in the watch itself. “This watch was sold here in New -York, Olive, and I have seen one exactly like it years ago.” Her voice -trembled a little and she seemed fatigued. “But don’t let us talk of -this any more this evening, as it is nearly dinner time. I am going to -ask you to trust me with these trinkets of yours, as I want to study -them more closely.” - -And without another word Miss Winthrop quietly arose and left the room. - - - - -CHAPTER XIX - -NEW YEAR’S EVE - - -Several weeks had passed since the interview between Olive and Miss -Winthrop on the evening of Jean’s defeat, and now the Christmas holidays -at Primrose Hall were well nigh over. For twelve days, save for Olive -and its owner, the great house had been empty of all its other pupils -and teachers; now in another thirty-six hours they would be returning to -take up their work again. - -The time had been long and lonely for Olive, of course, for Jean and -gone into New York to visit Gerry Ferrows and Margaret Belknap and -Frieda had departed south with the two Johnson sisters. The ranch girls -had not wished to leave Olive alone and each one of them had offered to -remain at school with her, but this sacrifice could hardly be accepted -because Olive had made no friends who had wished her to be with them. -Jessica Hunt would have liked to have had Olive visit her, but she -had no home of her own and her sister’s apartment was crowded with -babies; Margaret and Gerry, who had been kinder since their common -disappointment, had invited her for week ends, but these Invitations -Olive had quietly declined. All she would have cared for in a trip to -New York was an opportunity to see Jack, and this privilege was still -denied the ranch girls. - -Of course, Ruth had been informed that Olive was to be left alone at -Primrose Hall with only Miss Winthrop as her companion during the -holidays, and one afternoon had hurried out to see what arrangements -could be made for her pleasure. However, after a serious half hour’s -talk with Miss Winthrop and a shorter consultation with Olive, she had -gone away again content to leave the fourth ranch girl in wiser hands -than her own. - -And though the two weeks may have been long and lonely for Olive, yet -they had never been dull, for each moment she was hoping and praying to -hear some news from old Laska and each hour being drawn into closer -intimacy with Miss Winthrop. For now that the discipline of school life -had been relaxed, the principal of Primrose Hall showed herself to her -favorite pupil in a light that would have surprised most of her -students. She was no longer unsympathetic or stern, but treated Olive -with an affection that was almost like a mother’s. Each evening in her -private study before a beautiful open fire the woman and girl would sit -close together under the shadow of “The Winged Victory,” reading aloud -or talking of the great world of men and cities about which Miss -Winthrop knew so much and Olive so little. But of the secret of the -girl’s past her new friend did not encourage her to talk for the -present. - -“If you have told me all you know, Olive, then it is better for us not -to go into this subject again until we hear from the Indian woman, and -then should she fail us, I must try to think of some other plan to help -you.” - -And so one by one the holidays went by, as days will go under every -human circumstance, and yet no word had come from Laska, though it was -now the afternoon of New Year’s eve. Olive had been alone all morning -and unusually depressed, for although she had not heard what she so -eagerly waited to hear, she had learned that the surgeons had at last -decided an operation must be performed on Jack. Ruth had written her -that there was supposed to be some pressure from a broken bone on Jack’s -spine that made it impossible for her to walk, and although the -operation might not be absolutely successful, Jack herself had insisted -that it should be tried. - -The snow had been falling all morning and the neighborhood of Sleepy -Hollow had never been more beautiful, not even in its Indian summer -mists. If Olive could go for a walk she felt that she might brace up, -for certainly she did not intend to let Frieda and Jean find her in the -dumps on their return from their holidays. Miss Winthrop would probably -go out with her, as she had been attending to school matters all -morning, seeing that the house was made ready for the return of her -students, and Olive felt the fresh air might also do her good. They had -eaten lunch together, but Miss Winthrop had not been seen since. - -While Olive dispatched one of the maids to look for her friend she -herself went into the rooms where she had been accustomed to find her in -the past two weeks, but neither in her study, nor in the library, nor in -the drawing rooms, could she be found and by and by the maid came back -to tell Olive that Miss Winthrop had gone out and would probably not -return till tea time. She had left word that Olive must not be lonely -and that she must entertain herself in any way she desired. Well, Olive -knew of but one thing she wished to do: she would go for a walk and she -would go alone. School was not in session, so school rules were no -longer enforced, and by this time Olive had become thoroughly familiar -with the nearby neighborhood. - -Instead of a hundred-dollar check, which had been Jack’s Christmas -present to both Jean and Frieda in order that they might have their -Christmas visits to friend’s, she had given Olive a brown fur coat and -cap. Olive had not worn them before, but now, with the snow falling and -the thought of Jack in her mind, she put them both on. For a minute she -glanced at herself in her mirror before leaving the house and though her -vanity was less than most girls’, she could not help a slight thrill of -pleasure on seeing her own reflection in the mirror. Somehow her new -furs were uncommonly becoming, as they are to most people. The soft -brown of the cap showed against the blue-black darkness of her hair and -in her olive cheeks there was a bright color which grew brighter the -longer and faster she trudged through the lightly falling snow. - -Olive did not know the direction that Miss Winthrop had taken for her -walk, but half guessed that she must have gone for a visit to Madame Van -Mater, as she was in the habit of calling on the old lady every few days -and knew Olive’s dislike to accompanying her. Indeed, she had not been -inside “The Towers” nor seen its mistress since her first and only visit -there. But now she set off in the direction of the house, hoping to find -her friend returning toward home. - -The walk through the woods, Olive’s first walk in the vicinity of -Primrose Hall, was now a familiar one and less dark because the trees -had long ago cast off their cloakings of leaves and were covered only -with the few snowflakes that clung to them. No man or woman who has -lived a great deal out of doors in their youth fails to draw new -strength and cheerfulness from the air and sunshine, and Olive, who had -left school thinking only that Jack’s operation might not be successful -and of the pain her friend must suffer, now began to dwell on the -beautiful possibility of her growing well and strong as she had been in -the old days at the ranch and of their being reunited there some day not -too far off. Then she had been weakly believing that she would never -hear news of herself, that old Laska was probably dead or had -disappeared into some other Indian encampment. Now with her blood -running quickly in her veins from the cold and the snow, she determined -if Laska failed her to go west the next summer and try to trace out her -ancestry herself. Miss Winthrop, Ruth and the four ranch girls she knew -stood ready to help her in anything she might undertake. - -“It is a pretty good thing to have friends, even if one is bare of -relations,” Olive thought, coming out of the woods to the opening where -she could catch the first glimpse of the big white house. “I wish Miss -Winthrop would come along out of there,” she said aloud after waiting a -minute and finding that standing still made her shiver in spite of her -furs. “I wonder why I can’t get up the courage to march up to that front -door past those two fierce iron dogs, ring the bell and ask for her. I -don’t have to go into the house, and as it is growing a little late, -Miss Winthrop would probably prefer my not walking back alone. Besides, -I want to walk with her.” - -Like most people with only a few affections, Olive’s were very true and -deep, and now that she had learned to care for Miss Winthrop, she cared -for her with all her heart. - -Slowly she approached the house, hesitating once or twice and looking up -toward the tower room as though she were ashamed to recall her own -foolishness on the afternoon of her introduction to it. There was no one -about in the front of the house, not a servant nor a caller. For a -moment Olive stopped, smiling, by one of the big iron dogs that seemed -to guard the entrance to the old place. She brushed off a little snow -from the head of one of them and, stooping, patted it. “Isn’t it silly -of me to think I remember having seen you?” she murmured. And then -Olive’s hand went up swiftly to her own eyes and she appeared to be -brushing away something from them as she had brushed the snow from the -statue of a dog. “I haven’t seen you before, I have only heard about -you. And I haven’t seen this old house, but I have been told about it -until I felt almost as if I had seen it,” she announced with greater -conviction in her tones than she had ever used before, even to herself, -in trying to recall the confused impressions of her childhood. - -But now, instead of going up the front steps of the old house and -ringing the bell, she hesitated. And while she waited the door was -suddenly opened and into the white world outside Miss Winthrop stepped -with an expression on her face no one had ever seen it wear before—one -of surprise and wonder, anger and pleasure. - -“Olive, is it you?” she said just as if she had expected to find the -girl waiting outside for her on the doorstep. “Come in to Madame Van -Mater. We have something to tell you.” - -[Illustration: “I SUPPOSE I CANNOT DENY THE PROOFS YOU HAVE BROUGHT TO -ME.”] - - - - -CHAPTER XX - -THE TRUE HISTORY OF OLIVE - - -In the same high carved chair that she had used on the afternoon of -Olive’s first meeting with her, Madame Van Mater now sat apparently -waiting for someone, for her hair and complexion were as artistically -arranged and she was as carefully dressed as ever. At the stranger -girl’s sudden entrance with Miss Winthrop she showed no marked surprise. - -“Turn on the lights, please, Katherine, and bring the girl close to me,” -she commanded in almost the same tones that she had used on a former -occasion, and now for the second time Olive found herself facing the old -lady and being critically surveyed by her. Again, with almost -unconscious antagonism, their glances met. - -“I suppose I cannot deny the proofs you have brought to me, Katherine -Winthrop, that this girl is my granddaughter,” Madame Van Mater said -coldly, “and I am obliged to confess that her appearance is not what I -feared it might be, considering my son’s marriage. However, I do not see -the least trace of resemblance in her to any member of my family.” And -possibly to hide the trembling of her old hands, Madame Van Mater now -picked up a number of papers with which the table in front of her was -strewn. “You may sit down, child,” she remarked turning to Olive, “and -Katherine Winthrop will explain the extraordinary circumstance of your -connection with me. Because I tried to keep you as far away from me as -possible, fate has therefore brought you here under my very nose. It has -ever been the way of circumstances to thwart me.” - -Not understanding in the least what Madame Van Mater was talking about -and yet feeling a sudden curious weakness in her knees, Olive dropped -into a chair which Miss Winthrop had at this instant placed near her. - -“Sit perfectly still a moment, Olive dear,” Miss Winthrop interposed. -“Strange and improbable as it may seem to you to hear that you are the -granddaughter of Madame Van Mater, it will not take long for me to -explain the necessary facts to you. Years ago your grandmother had an -only child, a son of whom she was very proud, and as her husband had -died some time before, all her great wealth was to be given to this son. -She hoped that some day he would be a great lawyer, a statesman, and -that he would make his old family name known all over the world. Well, -by and by when this son had grown up, he cared nothing for law or any of -the interests that his mother wished and one day announced to her and to -me that he had chosen the stage as his profession. It is not worth while -for me to try to explain to you what this decision meant to his mother -and to me then,” Miss Winthrop continued; “but twenty years ago the -stage did not hold the position in the world that it does to-day, and -even now there are few mothers who would choose it as the profession for -their only sons. Well, there were many arguments and threats, but as -your father was determined on his own course, he went away from this -part of the country to the far west and there after several years we -learned that he had married. I knew that your mother had died soon after -her marriage and some years later your father, but I was never told that -they had left a child. Only your grandmother, of course, has always -known of your existence, for since your father’s death she has been -paying this Indian woman Laska to have charge of you. The fact that -Laska has now sent me papers signed by your grandmother’s own hand makes -it impossible for your relationship to be doubted.” Miss Winthrop now -paused for a moment. - -Olive was not looking at her, but at Madame Van Mater. “You did not wish -to recognize me as your granddaughter because you did not believe my -mother a lady?” she asked quietly. - -“Precisely,” Madame Van Mater agreed. - -“I see. It is all strangely clear to me now. I thought I remembered this -house because my father had talked of it so much to me that I really -believed I had seen it myself, his bedroom in the tower, the old dogs at -the front door that he used to play with as a child and all the story of -Sleepy Hollow. Well, I am sorry for your sake, Madame Van Mater, that -Miss Winthrop has discovered my father’s name and people, but for my own -I am very glad.” And Olive’s eyes turned toward the picture of the boy -on the wall. “I suppose that when my father was ill he wrote and asked -you to care for me and that is how you came to hear of Laska?” she -questioned. And again the old woman bowed her head. - -Very quietly Olive now got up from her chair. “Shall we be going back to -school, Miss Winthrop?” she inquired. “I believe I would rather not stay -here any longer at present.” - - * * * * * - -In ten minutes the two women, the young and the older one, were walking -home through the winter dusk together, Olive keeping a tight clutch of -Miss Winthrop’s arm, for now that she was well away from “The Towers” -and the cold woman who was its mistress, she felt frightened and -confused, as though the story she had just heard was a ridiculous dream. - -“Yes, it is very, very strange,” Miss Winthrop had reiterated over and -over again in the course of their walk, “but I cannot believe that the -queer accidents of life are accidents at all. I believe that it has -always been intended that you should some day know your own people and -for that reason you were brought from your home in the West to this very -neighborhood.” - -After a while when Olive had found her voice she said, “I do not like my -grandmother, Miss Winthrop, and I feel sure that we will never like one -another. But I am very glad, because if she had cared for me she might -have wished me to leave the ranch girls, and not for all the world can I -give up them.” - -There was another moment of silence and then Miss Winthrop spoke again: -“I cared for your father once very deeply, Olive, and I have cared in -the same way for no one else since, but I also felt as your grandmother -did about the work he chose to do and so here in the old garden at -Primrose Hall we said good-bye one afternoon for all time. I suppose my -pride was greater than my love for him, but I have been sorry since. Now -I care very much for my old friend’s daughter and hope she will let me -be her friend.” - -“She has been more than that already,” Olive returned fervently; “no one -save Jack has ever been so kind.” And then both women talked only of -trivial matters until after dinner time that evening. - -In Miss Winthrop’s study from eight o’clock until nine Olive sat with -her portfolio on her lap writing a long letter to Ruth Drew, disclosing -to her the story of the afternoon and asking her to keep the discovery -of the secret of her ancestry from Jacqueline Ralston, if she felt it -better that Jack be not informed at present. And at her desk during the -same hour Miss Winthrop was also engaged in writing Ruth. Carefully she -set forth to her how through the efforts of Olive’s former teacher at -the Government school and by the payment of a sum of money (which seemed -very large to the Indian woman), Laska had been induced to surrender -certain papers proving that the old mistress of “The Towers” at Tarry -dale was undoubtedly Olive’s grandmother. Though the news had come as an -entire surprise to Olive, her grandmother was not so wholly unprepared -for the revelation. For it seemed that Mrs. Harmon had known of the -existence of a young girl, the daughter of her first cousin, who was -being taken care of by an Indian woman somewhere in the state of -Wyoming. On meeting Olive at the Rainbow Ranch the summer before and -learning of her extraordinary history she had wondered if the girl could -have any connection with her own family. Although she had not really -believed this possible, knowing that Olive had come as a student to -Primrose Hall, she had confided the girl’s story to her aunt and Olive’s -first visit to “The Towers” had been of great interest to both women. -However, Madame Van Mater’s first survey of Olive had set her mind at -rest. This girl, whom Donald believed to resemble his mother, was to her -mind wholly unlike her; neither could she catch the faintest resemblance -to her son, who had been supposed to be like his cousin, Mrs. Harmon. -Then Olive’s quiet beauty and refined appearance had also satisfied -Madame Van Mater that this girl could not be her granddaughter, for she -believed that Olive’s mother had been of too humble an origin to have -had so lovely a daughter. Besides, did not old Laska continue to receive -the allowance sent her each month for her granddaughter’s care? - -In a few lines at the close of Miss Winthrop’s letter of explanation to -Ruth she added the only apology that could ever be made for Madame Van -Mater’s behavior. The proud old woman had not understood how ignorant -this Indian woman Laska was, nor had she dreamed that Olive was being -brought up as an Indian. She had simply told the woman to continue as -Olive’s servant until such time as the girl should reach the age of -twenty-one, when she intended settling a certain sum of money upon her. -She had not wished that this child of her son’s should suffer, only that -she should not be troubled with her nor compelled to recognize her as -her heiress and the bearer of her name. - -By and by, however, both Olive and Miss Winthrop grew weary of their -long letter writing and Olive, coming across the room, placed herself on -a low stool near her companion, resting her chin on her hands in a -fashion she had when interested. Both women talked of her father; they -could recall his reading aloud to them hour after hour and Olive -believed that she must have learned by rote Washington Irving’s -description of Sleepy Hollow valley when she was only a tiny girl and -that her first look out of her father’s bedroom window had suddenly -brought the lines back to her recollection. - -Till a little before midnight there were questions to be asked and -answered between the two friends, but just as the old year was dying -with the twelve strokes of the clock in the hall, Olive said good night. -She was half way out the door when she turned back again and Miss -Winthrop could see by the color in her cheeks that there was still -another question she wished to ask. - -“Do you think,” she asked finally, “that my mother could have been such -a dreadful person? I do not think I ever saw a lovelier face than her -picture in my father’s watch.” - -Miss Winthrop looked closely at Olive, remembering how her strange and -foreign beauty had always interested her. “No, my dear, your mother -could most certainly not have been dreadful,” she answered. “I think I -heard that she was a Spanish girl and these curios you have and your own -appearance make me feel assured of the fact. It was because your -grandmother was informed that your mother was a singer or an actress, -that she felt so deep a prejudice against her. But the real truth is -that she never forgave her son and wished never to hear his name -mentioned as long as she lived.” - -With a little shiver at the thought of such a nature as the old woman’s -at “The Towers,” Olive went on up to her own room to bed. - - - - -CHAPTER XXI - -JEAN AND FRIEDA RETURN TO PRIMROSE HALL - - -In less than forty-eight hours after the close of the last chapter -Primrose Hall was once more emptied of its silences and loneliness and -gay with the returning of its students now that the holiday season was -well past. - -Most of the girls came back in groups of twos and threes, since trains -at Tarrydale were numerous, but every now and then the school carryall -would be loaded up with girls, hanging on to the steps, sitting in one -another’s laps. And it happened that in one of these overloaded parties -Jean and Frieda arrived at Primrose Hall together. - -There was so much excitement, of course, in the arrival of such a number -of students at one time and so much kissing and embracing among some of -the girls tragically separated from their best chums for two weeks, that -in the general hubbub Jean and Frieda noticed no special change in -Olive. If Jean thought at first that she had looked a little tired she -forgot about it in a few minutes. The girls had so many stories to tell -of their own experiences, there was so much running back and forth from -one room to the other, so much unpacking of trunks and bestowing of -forgotten gifts, that the three ranch girls really saw very little of -each other without outside friends being present until almost bedtime -that night. - -Then at nine o’clock, with only an hour to spare before their lights -were turned out, they met before their sitting-room fire, wearing their -kimonos, their hair down their backs, prepared at last for the -confidential talk to which for different reasons they had all been -looking forward for some time. - -A sign with “No Admittance” printed on it hung outside their door and on -the floor in convenient reach of the three girls sat two large boxes of -candy, one presented to Frieda upon leaving Richmond, Va., and the other -a farewell gift to Jean from Cecil Belknap in New York. - -For the first moment so great was the satisfaction of the three girls at -being reunited that nobody spoke, and then all at once they began -talking in chorus. - -“I think I ought to have the first chance to tell things, as I am the -youngest and have been the farthest away,” Frieda protested. - -Of course Jean and Olive were glad enough to give Frieda the first -chance, but now as she began to speak, very naturally both of them -turned their attention full upon her. It was strange, for of course -Frieda had had a wonderful visit—what girl in a southern city fails to -have—and yet in spite of all her accounts of dances and dinner parties -and germans given for the school girls in Richmond during the holidays, -both Jean and Olive noticed that she did not look as cheerful as usual, -but that, if it were possible to believe such a thing, a fine line of -worry appeared to pucker her brow. - -“Frieda Ralston, you have been going too hard and seeing altogether too -much of life for such a baby,” Jean insisted when Frieda had -triumphantly cast a dozen or more pretty trinkets received as favors at -germans at their feet. - -But Frieda had only obstinately shaken her head, “I haven’t either, -Jean,” she declared, “Mrs. Johnson says it does not hurt girls to have a -good time in the holidays if they only study hard and behave themselves -properly at school.” - -“Well, perhaps you are just tired, Frieda,” Olive suggested. - -And again the youngest Miss Ralston disagreed. “I am not tired. Why -should you girls think there is anything the matter with me?” And she -turned such round, innocent blue eyes on her audience that it became -silenced. For five, ten minutes afterwards Frieda continued to hold the -floor, and then in the midst of an account of a party given at the -Johnson home she had suddenly stopped talking and thrown herself down on -the floor, tucking a sofa pillow under her blonde head. “Maybe I am -tired to-night on account of the trip home,” she confessed; “anyhow I -don’t want to talk any more just now. I suppose, Olive, you haven’t -anything special to say, just having stayed here at school with Miss -Winthrop. So Jean, you tell us what you did in New York.” - -Because Jean took up the conversational gauntlet so promptly, both the -older girls failed to notice that before Frieda had even ceased talking -her eyes had filled with tears. - -The story Jean told of her visits to Gerry and Margaret in New York City -was not exactly like Frieda’s, for though Jean was several years older -than her cousin, in New York school girls are never allowed the same -privileges that they enjoy in the South. But Jean had been to the -theatre many times and to luncheons and twice Mrs. Belknap had taken -Margaret and Jean and Gerry to the opera in her box. “Yes, Cecil Belknap -had been very nice and she had liked him a little better, though she -still thought him horribly vain,” Jean confessed, in answer to a leading -question from Frieda. Then she, too, abruptly concluded her story. -“There is just a weeny thing more I have got to tell everybody when the -lights go out,” she concluded, “but I am not willing to tell now.” - -Frieda reached out for comfort toward her box of candy, popping a large -chocolate into her mouth. - -“Now, Olive, you please tell us what you did while we went away like -selfish pigs and left you for most two weeks. You must have had a -dreadfully dull time!” Frieda suggested indulgently. - -Olive laughed quietly. “Well, I didn’t have exactly a dull time; at -least, not lately.” - -Another chocolate passed from the box to the youngest girl’s lips. - -“Oh, I suppose you mean that Miss Winthrop was kind to you and you took -long walks together and things like that. I believe Miss Winthrop is -really fond of you, Olive, even more than she is of Jean and me. I -wonder why?” - -At this both the girls laughed. “Oh, I suppose it is because she thinks -Olive the most attractive of ‘The Three Graces.’ Baby, of course you and -I are the other two,” Jean interrupted. “But I hope, Olive dear, that -she was good to you.” - -And at this simple remark of Jean’s, Olive’s face suddenly flushed -scarlet. “Yes, Miss Winthrop has been good to me, better than any one -else in the world except you ranch girls,” she replied. - -Struck by something unusual in her friend’s face and expression, Jean’s -own face suddenly sobered. “What do you mean, how can she have been so -unusually kind to you?” she questioned. Then with a sudden flash of -illumination. “Olive Ralston, you have something important on your mind -that you want to tell us. I might have guessed that you have been -keeping it a secret ever since we returned, letting us chat all this -nonsense about our visits first. Don’t you dare to tell us that Miss -Winthrop wants to adopt you as her daughter and that you have consented, -or none of us will ever forgive you in this world!” - -Still Olive hesitated. “Truly, I don’t know how to tell you yet,” she -murmured, “though I have been planning a dozen different ways of -starting in the last two days.” - -“That is it, then, Jean has guessed right,” interrupted Frieda darkly. -“I suppose it has happened just as a punishment to us for having left -you alone at Primrose Hall during the Christmas holidays. Of course Miss -Winthrop decided that we really do not care much for you and for all her -coldness to the other girls she needn’t try to deceive me; she is just -crazy about you, Olive!” Frieda now began really to shed tears. “But -whether you like Jean and Ruth and me or not, I never could have -believed that you would be so cruel as to turn your back on poor Jack -when she is too ill to speak for herself,” she finished. - -“Hush, Frieda,” Olive returned sternly. “That is not what I want to tell -you. Of course Miss Winthrop has asked me to live with her if you should -ever wish to stop taking care of me, but I don’t want to live with her -if you ranch girls want me. I was only trying to explain——” - -“What, for heaven’s sake, Olive?” Jean demanded, now nearly as white and -shaken as her friend, seeing Olive’s great difficulty in making her -confession. - -“Jean, Frieda,” Olive began, speaking quietly now and in her accustomed -voice and manner, “it is only that since you have been away Miss -Winthrop has found out for me that I am not an Indian girl. I am not -even a western girl, or at least my father was not a Westerner. You -remember the day we went to see the Harmons at ‘The Towers’ and old -Madame Van Mater stared at me so strangely and scolded Donald for -thinking I was like his mother. She did not wish me to look like Mrs. -Harmon because Mrs. Harmon was my father’s first cousin and——” - -“Oh, Olive, what are you talking about? You sound quite crazy!” Frieda -interposed. - -And then Olive went on, even more clearly and rapidly telling the other -girls the history of her father and of herself as far back as she had -learned it. “Oh, I know you can’t believe what I have told you all at -once, girls, for it does sound like a miracle or a fable and we never -would have believed such a story had we read of it in a book. But Miss -Winthrop says that every day in the real world just such wonderful -things are happening as my coming here to Primrose Hall in the very -neighborhood where my father used to live and finding my grandmother -alive. In any newspaper you pick up you can run across just such an odd -coincidence.” As Olive had been allowed to talk on without interruption, -of course she believed by this time that both Jean and Frieda understood -the news she had been trying to make plain to them. Frieda had risen to -a sitting posture and was staring at her with frightened eyes, Jean was -frowning deeply. - -“You mean?” said Jean helplessly. “You don’t mean?” said Frieda at the -same moment, and then, to relieve the tension of the situation the three -girls giggled hysterically. - -“Please begin right at the beginning and tell the whole story over -again, Olive, and I will try to understand this time,” Jean had then -commanded and patiently Olive went through the whole tale again. - -Therefore it was small wonder that they forgot about the bedtime hour, -until a knock at the door startled them. Jessica Hunt was preceptress of -their floor for the evening and, as Miss Winthrop had already told her -something of Olive’s history, she readily allowed the ranch girls a half -hour’s extra talk. She could not help their lights going out at ten -o’clock, however, but the ranch girls did not really care. A candle -under an umbrella makes an excellent light and no one outside can be any -the wiser! - -Perhaps it was their two weeks of separation, perhaps it was Olive’s -strange story, for rarely had the three girls felt more devoted to one -another than they did to-night. They were sitting with their arms about -one another when Olive jumped up. “Please lend me the candle a minute,” -she begged unexpectedly, “I have been talking so much about myself that -I forgot I had some letters for you. They may be important.” - -In another moment, coming back from her desk, she dropped several -envelopes in Jean’s and in Frieda’s hands. “I suppose if they are -Christmas cards you can see them by this light,” she said carelessly, -“but if they are letters you had best wait till morning.” - -With a quick gesture Frieda tore open one of her envelopes and the paper -enclosed was neither a card nor a letter. “Oh, my goodness gracious, -what ever am I going to do?” she asked desperately, seeing three large -black figures staring at her even in the dark. “I have but ten cents in -all this world and I owe a bill of one hundred and fifty dollars!” - -The reason for the line in Frieda’s brow was now disclosed. Instead of -having saved any of her hundred-dollar Christmas present during her -Christmas visit she had spent every cent of it. Now, without waiting for -her to find out what she could do to get the money for her dreadful -bill, the wretched, unkind shop people had sent it her on the very first -day of the New Year. - -“I don’t like to borrow money of you and Olive, Jean, when I haven’t -paid back the last,” Frieda said, after a slight, uncomfortable moment -of surprise on the part of the other ranch girls, “but what can I do? I -suppose I have just got to write to Ruth and Jack, asking them to pay it -for me.” - -“How could you ever have made such a bill, Frieda?” Jean demanded, -looking over her cousin’s shoulder in the flicker of the candle light. - -“Clothes,” the answer came back in a weak, small voice. - -Unexpectedly Jean laughed. “Oh, well, I need not preach, baby. What I -wanted to tell you myself, when the lights went out, is that I became a -backslider in New York and with Ruth’s consent told Gerry and Margaret -that we were not absolutely paupers. I just had to spend some of the -money I had saved, the things in New York were so fascinating. So I -haven’t much left to lend you, Frieda, and I am awfully sorry, for Ruth -says the mine is not yielding quite as much as it formerly did and we -must all be economical, for such a dreadful lot of money is needed right -away for Jack. I am pretty glad we did not tell the girls at Primrose -Hall that we were rich, because it may turn out that we are not after -all; gold mines are often uncertain.” - -“Then I suppose I will have to go to prison for debt,” Frieda murmured. -And both older girls were heartless enough to laugh. “Oh, no, it need -not go as far as that, Frieda,” Olive assured her, “for I have hardly -spent a cent since coming to Primrose Hall, so I have nearly enough to -help you out, so you need not worry. Besides Miss Winthrop says that -however much I may dislike my grandmother and she me, I cannot refuse to -allow her to do for me now that she has discovered my whereabouts, for -the money that is now hers should _rightfully_ have come to my father -even though she did not wish him to have it.” - -“Remember the fortune the old gypsy told you, Olive,” Jean repeated, -just as they were separating for the night. “‘And a fortune untold, -Shall make for your feet a rich pathway of gold.’ I used to think she -meant our mine.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXII - -READJUSTMENTS - - -In the weeks that followed the discovery of Olive’s connection with the -wealthy old patroness of Primrose Hall a student of psychology would -have had an interesting opportunity in the study of the changed attitude -of her schoolmates toward her. In the first place, from being an Indian -girl of uncertain origin, Olive had suddenly become a heroine of romance -and also there was the possibility that she might in time be an heiress, -should her grandmother change in her feelings toward her and disinherit -the Harmons. In any case, the law would certainly allow her some portion -of the old estate. So you see that instead of being looked down upon as -the most undesirable student at Primrose Hall, the fourth ranch girl had -suddenly become exalted upon a pedestal, and perhaps it is just as -deceptive in this world to look up to other people as it is to look down -upon them, since a fair judgment can only be attained by standing face -to face. - -Truly Olive had no more desire for this second false position than she -had for the first, but now her shyness, once regarded as ill breeding, -was called haughtiness and her classmates stood a little in awe of her. -The position was indeed a trying one for everybody concerned in it, for -scarcely could the girls who had been unkind to Olive, now throw -themselves about her neck begging her forgiveness, simply because so -unexpected a turn had come in her fortunes. Of course, some of the -unwise girls did do this, but not those with better judgment and taste, -for they understood that Olive must be approached more slowly and with -greater tact. - -Among this second class of girls was Winifred Graham. Now no one could -be more vexed than she was with herself for her persistent snubbing of -Olive from the first day of her entrance into Primrose Hall, not because -she liked Olive any better than she had at first, but because Winifred -only cared for persons who might be useful to her, and now this -ridiculous Olive with her romantic history, might be very useful indeed. -The point at issue was the bestowal of the Shakespeare prize of several -hundred dollars, given each year by Madame Van Mater to the Junior -students in Jessica Hunt’s class. Mention has been made before that the -three girls who stood closest in line for this prize were Winifred, -Olive and Gerry. Now Winifred supposed that Olive would of course -withdraw from the contest, since she could hardly take a prize presented -by her own grandmother, but what Winifred feared was that Olive might -throw the balance of her influence in Gerry’s favor. Very carefully she -now undertook to show her change of feeling toward the ranch girls -without offending them or making them suspicious by too great haste. A -confidential talk with Jessica Hunt, who had always been their friend, -was one of the methods Winifred first employed, but there was little -assistance to be had from Jessica. For in the first place Jessica -declared immediately that Olive was not to give up her effort to win the -Shakespeare prize. Jessica had talked the matter over both with Olive -and Miss Winthrop and they had decided in council that Olive need not -give up her cherished ambition on account of her altered connection with -Madame Van Mater. The prize had been freely offered without -reservations to whatever girl in the Junior class should have the best -yearly record, write the best Shakespeare essay at the close of the -school year and give the best recitation from any one of the Shakespeare -plays. - -Not approving of Olive’s continuance in the contest, Winifred had then -freely expressed her opinion to Jessica and afterwards to Olive, but -though her manner was now entirely friendly, her protest had not the -least effect upon Olive’s decision. Indeed, when things had settled down -into routine again Olive continued to work harder than ever during the -following winter and spring months. Of course, her position among her -classmates had altered somewhat; Margaret and Gerry were both her -friends as well as a number of other girls who had never been actively -disagreeable, but with Winifred, Olive could not keep up more than a -faint pretense of friendliness. At heart the two girls did not like one -another and no amount of veneering can ever cover a real antagonism of -temperament. They exchanged greetings in their class rooms and several -times Winifred called on the ranch girls, but as her visits were never -returned, she had to try other methods of softening the hostility her -own unkindness had created, hoping that before the school year was over -something would give her a chance to win their liking. - -One month after the return of the Primrose Hall students from their -Christmas holidays the Theta Sorority had solemnly and with -distinguished rites received Olive and Jean into their mystic order. -When finally the invitation, so much discussed, had been extended to the -two ranch girls they had not known what to do in the matter. Of course, -they had not wished to show continued ill feeling, so with Jessica’s -advice, had joined the society, afterwards greatly enjoying the pretty -club house and the frequent informal entertainments which the sorority -gave during the rest of the school year. - -So month after month rolled pleasantly and less eventfully on at -Primrose Hall. Weekly visits at the command of her grandmother were -still made by Olive to “The Towers.” At first Miss Winthrop had been in -the habit of accompanying her and later Jean and Frieda, but there were -times when pilgrimages had to be made alone. Why they had to be made at -all Olive did not understand, for Madame Van Mater still showed but -little liking for the granddaughter whom circumstances and Miss Winthrop -had surely thrust upon her. If she liked any one of the three ranch -girls it was Jean, for as usual Jean had not really felt the least fear -of her and when they had made their first call it was with difficulty -that she refrained from giving her hostess a piece of her mind in regard -to her treatment of Olive. Perhaps Madame Van Mater’s age prevented her -from receiving the scolding and perhaps her manner. For instead Jean -told her the story of the ranch girls’ discovery of Olive and of how -much she had previously suffered. And perhaps this story worked as well -as the scolding, since the old mistress of “The Towers” abruptly invited -Jean to tell her nothing more of this woman Laska, but of their life at -the Rainbow Ranch. Although all three girls could be eloquent on the -subject of the ranch, Jean was allowed the floor and three times in the -course of the conversation Madame Van Mater actually had laughed aloud, -a proceeding most unusual with her. Perhaps after all, in spite of her -hardness and pride, the old woman had not been altogether happy over her -treatment of her son’s child, even though she believed that her son had -forfeited her love and consideration by his own actions. But whatever -her reasons, thus far kept to herself, Olive was forced to continue the -weekly calls. - -One afternoon in April, when Miss Winthrop was busy with school matters -and Jean and Frieda were engaged in a game of basketball, Olive found -herself compelled to go alone to see her grandmother. And she was -particularly vexed over this special visit, as she had wished to join -the other girls in their game. - -Always until this afternoon Olive had been received by Madame Van Mater -with entire formality in the old drawing room, where they had had their -two memorable meetings, but to-day she found the drawing room empty and -while she waited a maid came to say that she was kindly to walk -upstairs. - -Anything was better than the stiffness and coldness of the old drawing -room! Because the spring day was cool, Olive on going upstairs found her -grandmother before an open fire wrapped about with silk shawls and -comforts. Her hair was, of course, piled as high as usual and her -costume as handsome, but it was plain to see that she was not so well. - -“Kindly don’t come near me, as I am suffering from a severe cold,” she -announced, as Olive approached to shake hands with her, never having at -any time offered her any more intimate greeting. - -Olive sat down, trying to look properly interested, but really feeling -bored and uncomfortable at the thought of the next half hour. These -calendar-like visits and the fact that Jack Ralston was still a prisoner -in New York were the only worries she now seemed to have at Primrose -Hall. - -“I am sorry you are ill,” she began politely, only to have her remark -waved aside. - -“I am not ill,” Madame Van Mater returned, “only not well; but if I were -there are other more important matters than my health which I wish to -discuss with you this afternoon; therefore am I very glad to see you -alone.” - -There was no answer to be made to this statement. Olive had never -attempted to be hypocritical with her grandmother by pretending to feel -any affection for her. She now simply sat perfectly still and -respectful, waiting to hear what was to be said next. But rarely had she -looked more attractive than on this afternoon. In the first place, her -walk had given her a bright color and she was wearing a particularly -becoming frock. - -Miss Winthrop had insisted that Olive always dress with great care on -these visits to her grandmother, so this special frock, which Ruth -lately had sent from New York, was now worn for the first time. It was -of some soft material of silk and wool made with a short waist and -softly clinging skirt of a bright golden brown with a girdle of brown -velvet. Olive was very slender always and of only medium height, but her -dark coloring was rich and unusual and now her expression was gayer and -in some unconscious way she seemed more confident and less timid in her -manner than formerly. - -For several moments after her first long speech Madame Van Mater -continued to study the appearance of the young girl sitting opposite -her, and then, without the least warning of her intention, said -abruptly: “Olive, I suppose you have not understood why I have insisted -on your coming to see me so regularly and constantly since my discovery -of your connection with me. You may, of course, have guessed, but if you -have not I am prepared to tell you this afternoon. I have been studying -you and I am now willing to say that I have in the past done you a great -injustice. However much my son disappointed me by his choice of an -occupation and by his marriage to your mother instead of Katherine -Winthrop, I had no real right to cast off from me all responsibility in -regard to his child. You are not altogether what I would have you to be, -you have less social ease of manner and less conversational ability than -I desire in my granddaughter; but I am prepared to overlook these faults -in you now, Olive, or at least to give you time to conquer them. What I -am coming to is this. I have recently decided to make reparation to you -by having you come here to live with me when your year at Primrose Hall -is passed, and if I find you as refined and as capable of being managed -as I now suppose you to be, I am prepared to change my will, making you -heir to the greater part of my estate and giving my grand-niece and -nephew, Donald and Elizabeth Harmon, only the portion formerly intended -for you. You need not thank me; I am doing this simply because I wish to -do it. And also because it will please Katherine Winthrop, who is one of -the few persons for whom I have always cared.” - -Olive smiled, although the smile did not really cross her lips, but -seemed somehow to drift across her entire face. “I had no intention of -thanking you, grandmother,” she returned quietly, “only of refusing your -offer. It may be very kind of you to desire me to live with you, but I -thought you understood that nothing and no one in the world could ever -persuade me to stop living with the ranch girls so long as they wish me -to be with them. And even after we are grown up and they marry or -anything else happens, why, even then, I have plans of my own.” - -“Ranch girls, fiddlesticks,” exclaimed Madame Van Mater, far more -inelegantly than one would have thought possible to her. “Of course, I -wish to say nothing against these friends of yours; under the -circumstances I am even prepared to be grateful to them for their -kindness to you, but surely you cannot expect to live forever on their -bounty, and what can they offer you in the way of social opportunity? I -believe they have no parents to introduce them into society, only this -chaperon named Ruth Drew and some man or other who manages their ranch.” - -Olive flushed and then smiled. “I don’t believe I am very anxious or -very well fitted for social opportunity,” she answered, “but I don’t -think you need worry about the ranch girls, for when the time comes for -them to take any part in society I am sure they will find opportunities -enough. I wrote Jack only a few weeks ago, ten days after her operation -was over, that as soon as she was well enough and whenever she wanted me -to, I would go back with her to the ranch or we would travel or do -whatever was best for her. Of course, we don’t any of us know yet -whether Jack’s operation was successful, but Jean and Frieda and I have -positively made up our minds that nothing will induce us to be separated -from her after this year.” - -“You are talking school girl nonsense,” Madame Van Mater returned -coldly, “but naturally I do not care to argue this question with you. I -shall have Katherine Winthrop put the matter before you. But you can -rest assured, Olive, of these two things: In the first place, that if at -any time you displease me I can leave my money to any one whom I may -select, as my husband’s will gave his estate entirely into my hands; and -in the second place, that if I desire to control your actions, you are -not yet of age and I, and not the ranch girls, am your natural -guardian.” - -Very few times in her life had Olive ever known what it was to be -violently angry, and yet no matter how gentle one’s nature anger must -get the best of all of us now and then. Quickly the girl now got up from -her chair and crossing the room faced Madame Van Mater with an -expression as determined as her own. “Please understand that I do not -want to defraud either Donald or Elizabeth Harmon of the money you have -always promised them. They have been very kind since the discovery of my -connection with them and of course you must be more fond of them than -you can ever be of me. The truth of the matter is that though I don’t -want to be rude or unfair, I do not like you, grandmother, nor do I feel -that I can ever forgive the years of your neglect of me. Do you think it -is quite fair for you now to speak of being my natural guardian when for -so many years you desired nothing so much as that my name should never -be mentioned to you? Please don’t let us talk of this ever, ever any -more, but understand that I shall never leave the ranch girls.” - -Plainly Madame Van Mater was amazed at Olive’s unexpected anger, for -until this moment her granddaughter had always seemed to her rather too -gentle and shy. Now the old woman simply shrugged her shoulders -indifferently. “You may go,” she replied, “but of course, Olive, I shall -decide later what course in regard to you I shall consider it advisable -to take.” - -So with scarlet cheeks and feeling more obstinate than ever before in -her life, Olive, finding herself dismissed, rushed for consolation to -Primrose Hall. - - - - -CHAPTER XXIII - -“MAY TIME IS GAY TIME” - - -May had arrived and with it the first warm spring weather along the -Hudson River valley. Now the river was often crowded with sail boats -dipping their white and gray canvases toward the sky and toward the -water like the wings of a seagull; motor boats chugged along, making -more noise than automobiles; while the steam yachts, ever the -aristocrats among all water craft, sailing into their own harbors up and -down the Hudson shores, ever and anon put forth again as though -intending to leave home behind for adventures on the open sea. All the -hills beyond and near by the neighborhood of Sleepy Hollow were like -mammoth bouquets with their fragrance and beauty upturned to the sun, -while within the meadows and fields and gardens were a greater variety -of wild-flowers than can be found in many other places in this land. - -Now at last the ranch girls understood why Miss Katherine Winthrop’s old -home had been called “Primrose Hall” long before ever the school was -thought of. For wild primroses blossomed everywhere, although the season -was late, until the garden about the old place looked like the famous -field of “The Cloth of Gold.” - -As much as possible on these bright May days the students at Primrose -Hall lived out of doors, but with the school year drawing to a close it -was not always easy to desert lessons and the thought of approaching -examinations. - -One afternoon Jean and Frieda had arranged themselves in a corner of one -of the big verandas with a table between them and a screen carefully set -up to protect them from interruption. The girls were not talking, indeed -an utter silence had reigned between them for the last ten minutes, -broken only by the squeak of Frieda’s pen writing its last essay for the -present term and by an occasional sigh from Jean from the depth of an -oration by Cicero. - -Stealing along outside the defensive wall of this screen a short time -later mysterious footsteps might be heard, not of one pair of feet but -of several, and yet not a single head appeared above it. - -Frowning, Jean listened and then went on with her work, determined not -to be lured from the strict path of duty. - -“Whatever geese are outside the screen,” she thought to herself, “seeing -our sign on it, ‘Positively No Admittance, Studying,’ will go away and -leave us in peace.” - -But when a screen falls to the floor with a bang only a few inches from -where one is seated, certainly no degree of devotion to the study of -literature and the classics will prevent one from jumping up with a -scream. And this Jean and Frieda did at the same instant, and behold, -there, with only the prostrate screen dividing them, were Gerry and -Margaret, Lucy and Mollie Johnson, besides several other members of -their Junior class! - -“The city has fallen and the prisoners are ours!” Gerry announced, -pointing a pen at Jean’s heart as an improvised dagger. - -Jean tried not to look cross. “Look here, girls, what do you want with -us?” she demanded. “You know it isn’t fair to come interrupting a fellow -at his labors, and Miss Winthrop——” - -“Oh, Miss Winthrop be—any old thing,” Gerry answered saucily. “Do you -suppose that when school is nearly over that we care half so much for -the views and wishes of our lady principal as we do earlier in the year, -when we might have to live on under the shadow of her displeasure? -However, on this one occasion the fear of that august personage need not -darken our young lives, since she has given her consent to what I am now -about to propose. Oh, well, since it is Margaret’s party, I suppose I -had best let her extend the actual invitation, while I beg you to accept -it beforehand.” - -Jean put up two protesting hands, but Frieda showed no such moral -hesitancy. “Please don’t ask Frieda and me to do anything agreeable this -afternoon,” Jean pleaded, “for we simply can’t accept any invitation, -and yet if you ask us we may.” - -Margaret Belknap laughed. “Of course you will when you hear what it is. -You must get your coats and hats at once and come and drive with us for -a mile or so to the nearest landing pier and there father and Cecil will -be waiting for us in our yacht to take us for a sail.” - -“Oh, my goodness gracious me!” exclaimed Frieda ecstatically, gathering -her school paraphernalia into her arms, “and to think that I have never -been on a yacht or even a sailboat in my whole life!” - -Apparently there was to be no further question of their studies this -afternoon, for Jean and Frieda now fairly leaped over the overturned -screen in their efforts to get up to their room for hats and coats -without delay. - -However, but two minutes had passed, a not sufficient time for Jean to -have made preparations for the trip, when she was seen slowly returning -toward her group of friends. - -“Margaret, Gerry,” she begged, “if the other girls will please excuse -us, I want to speak to you privately for half a minute.” - -Jean’s face was flushed and her manner embarrassed. “Please don’t think -I am ungrateful for your invitation, Margaret,” she said softly, “but -really I don’t believe I had better go with you this afternoon after -all. Frieda says she _will_ go,” and unconsciously the speaker put an -added emphasis on the verb will. - -Margaret, hurt at her friend’s attitude, did not answer at once, -particularly as Gerry hardly gave her the opportunity. - -“Will you kindly tell us, Jean Bruce, what has happened to make you -change your mind in the distance between the veranda and your bedroom -door?” she inquired. “You need not tell me that you won’t go for a sail -on the Hudson for the first time in your life because you love your -Cicero so.” - -Jean shook her head, smiling in spite of herself. “Well, not exactly.” - -“Oh, Margaret, for heaven’s sake explain to Jean that we have asked -Olive too, but that Olive says she positively can’t join us. Of course -she is working on that plagued old Shakespeare essay of hers. And to -think that once I believed I had a chance at that Shakespeare prize.” - -At Gerry’s first words Jean’s face had magically cleared. “Oh, if -Margaret wants Olive too, I will make her come along with us, she shall -not be such a grind,” she protested. But before she could vanish for the -second time Margaret and Gerry both clutched at her skirts. - -“Don’t urge Olive to come with us, for you see we don’t really want her, -and only asked her because we knew she couldn’t come.” Margaret -explained hastily, and then seeing Jean’s face crimson with anger and -resentment, she gave her an affectionate shake. - -“Oh, for heaven’s sake, child, when will you ranch girls get over being -so touchy about one another? You know that now we know Olive better, we -like her as much as any girl in our class. To tell you the truth, it is -just because we are trying to fix up some plan to show Olive how we feel -toward her that we did not want her to come along with us now. It seemed -to us this would be our best chance to let you know our idea and to see -what you think about it. I suppose I might have told you this at first,” -Margaret ended, “only I am not a tactful person, and perhaps put things -pretty badly.” - -“You certainly did,” Jean laughed, “but now I will hurry and get my -belongings, as I am perfectly dying to hear what you have in mind.” - -An hour later eight members of the Junior class, Frieda and Mollie and -Miss Rebecca Sterne, having arrived at a private landing pier not far -from their school, were assisted aboard the steam yacht “Marathon” by -Cecil Belknap and his father. - -During the first half of the sail there was little real conversation -among the girls, only “Ohs” and “Ahs” of delight at the beauty of the -river scenery and the wonders of the yacht. But by and by on their -return journey when Margaret and her guests were seated around the salon -dining table drinking afternoon tea, Gerry, who never could bear putting -off things, turned to her hostess. - -“Look here, Margaret,” she said in tones loud enough for the entire -company to overhear, “if your father and brother will pardon us, I vote -that we plunge right into the subject we have come together to discuss -this afternoon. I suppose your father and Cecil must both have heard -something of Olive’s story by now.” - -Margaret nodded. Jean was not so sure that she cared to have Olive’s -difficulties at school discussed before Cecil Belknap, whom she did not -yet thoroughly like, but as Margaret’s guest she did not like to -protest. - -Gerry then leaned across the table toward the ranch girls with her -teaspoon poised in the air. - -“Look here, Jean, Frieda, everybody, it is just like this. You know that -when the three ranch girls came to Primrose Hall most of us liked two of -the three girls right from the first, after a few of their western -peculiarities had rubbed up against our eastern ones. But with the third -girl, with Olive—well, it was different. In the first place, Olive was -shy and did not look exactly like the rest of us (she is much prettier -than I am, for example); in the second place, the story was circulated -about among the girls that Olive was part Indian, the daughter of a -dreadfully ignorant Indian woman from whom she had run away and that now -she was trying to pretend that she was no relation to her own mother. Of -course, had any one of us ever looked at Olive very hard we must have -known that this story was an untruth, or else only a half truth, which -is the worst kind of a lie. But we were too prejudiced and Olive too shy -to stand up for herself and—oh, what is the use of my going into this -horrid part of my story when I want to come to the fairy tale at the -end! After a while some of us girls did begin to see a little further -than the end of our noses and to suspect that a girl as clever as Olive -in her studies, as lovely in disposition and as refined and gentle in -her manner, could hardly be what we had believed her, simply couldn’t. -And now I want to say just one thing in excuse for myself. I did know -that Olive was a lady and more than a lady, a trump, before I learned -that she was not an Indian girl, but a heroine,” and here Gerry paused -an instant to sigh and to get her breath in order to continue to express -her romantic delight in the change of the stranger girl’s fortune. - -Hurriedly, however, Margaret Belknap now seized this moment’s respite. - -“I knew that Olive was charming too,” she interposed, “and I did try to -be nicer to her before I went away for the Christmas holidays, intending -on my return to ask her to overlook the past and be friends. I suppose -there were other girls in our class who felt the same way and had this -same intention?” - -As Margaret paused four or five other voices answered: “There certainly -were,” before she went on. “Yes, I know. But after we got back from our -holidays it was then too late to make Olive believe in our good -intentions, because in that short time things had so changed for her -that she had become more interesting than any of the rest of us. You can -see, Jean and Frieda, just what we have been up against?” (The -well-broughtup Margaret was not conscious of using slang at this moment -and only her brother smiled at her.) “If our Junior class had then -rushed up at once to Olive and apologized to her, after we had learned -of what had befallen her, why we did not believe that she would care -very much for such a belated repentance. So for months now we have been -trying to think of some pretty and tactful way to show our real feeling -toward her and now we hope we have at last hit upon the right plan.” - -“Do let me tell the rest, Margaret, you have talked such a long time,” -and though a laugh went all around the table at her expense, Gerry again -burst forth: “Everybody here knows that we are to have our school finals -now in a short time and see the Seniors graduate and the Juniors, who -are trying for the Shakespeare prize, give their recitations before the -committee specially chosen to pass on them? Then of course we have -luncheon and afterwards a dance on the lawn with all our guests at the -commencement present. But there is one thing that perhaps you two ranch -girls don’t know and that is that we always choose one of the Primrose -Hall girls as our Queen for commencement day. Of course she must be -selected from among the entire school, not from any one class; but -Margaret and some of the other Juniors and I have been talking things -over with the Seniors and they say it is our turn to have the Queen and -that they are willing to—you know what we want to do, don’t you, Jean -and Frieda?” - -Jean bowed her head showing that she understood, but Frieda still -appeared mystified. - -“I think it would be a beautiful thing for you girls to do, if you -really wish to do it,” Jean answered a bit huskily, although she was -trying not to show any special emotion before Cecil Belknap, who had -been watching her pretty closely all afternoon through his same hateful -pair of eyeglasses. - -“Beautiful to do what?” Frieda now demanded, turning first toward Mollie -and then toward Lucy Johnson for the explanation of this everlasting -preamble of Gerry’s and Margaret’s. - -“Why, choose Olive for our School Queen for commencement day,” Gerry -returned, “and as our finals take place in May, I suppose you can call -her ‘Queen of the May’ if you like. For you see she does preside over -our dances all afternoon, leads any special ones, and we pay her -whatever homage we can. Now, please, don’t you, Cecil, or any other -human being at this table start reciting: ‘You must wake and call me -early, call me early, mother dear’,” she concluded, “for if it were not -for that tiresome, weepy poem, I should think the choosing of a May -Queen one of the prettiest customs in the world. But I can assure you -that at least eleven out of every twelve persons who come to our -commencement feel called upon to spout that poem; I suppose because it -is so ridiculously easy to remember.” - -As soon as the speaker finished Margaret jumped up from the table, her -guests immediately following suit. “Then it is all settled,” she -exclaimed happily, lifting high her pretty teacup, “so let us drink to -Olive as our next queen and to the other ranch girls.” - -“I suppose you mean Jack too, even if you don’t know her,” Frieda -suggested loyally before joining in the toast. And Gerry’s hearty “Of -course,” ended the pretty scene. - -For now the entire party of girls, deserting the salon, made their way -again out on to the deck of the yacht. Of the group Jean was the last to -leave, followed by Cecil Belknap. - -“Oh, I say, Miss Bruce, will you go a bit slow?” he asked. “My sister -tells me that she has asked you to pay us a visit at our cottage on the -Massachusetts coast this summer and I hope you are going to be jolly -enough to come, for I should enjoy it most awfully.” - -“You wouldn’t really, not a visit from a western ranch girl?” Jean’s -eyes danced; “but it is very kind of you to say so,” she ended prettily, -extending her hand to the young man. - -Cecil was looking out the open door to where the lights were now -twinkling forth one by one along the side of the Jersey shore. “No, it -is not what I would call good of me,” he replied quietly. “I thought I -told you at our house at Christmas that I liked you and that if there -wasn’t any fellow out West, I would like to see more of you anyhow. Do -say you will make us the visit?” - -With a new dignity that a year of Primrose Hall had helped develop in -her, Jean now shook her head. “No,” she replied quietly, “I have already -explained to Margaret that I shan’t be able to come to her this summer. -You see, my cousin, Jack Ralston, whether she is better or not, is to -leave the hospital in New York early in June and then we expect to go -back to the Rainbow Ranch for the summer time. After that we may go, who -knows where?” - -The young people went out on deck together as the yacht was now running -in toward shore, and beyond the landing pier in the soft, spring dusk -the travelers could see the old school carryall and in another carriage -Olive and Miss Winthrop waiting to drive the party back to Primrose -Hall. But before anybody was allowed to leave the yacht Gerry had -solemnly whispered to each one of them. “Remember, please, Olive is not -to hear a single, solitary word about our plan. It is to be a secret up -to the very last minute.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXIV - -SHAKESPEARE’S HEROINES - - -“I declare, I never saw such a spectacle as I am in my life,” Gerry -Ferrows protested, turning half way around to get a back view of herself -in her bedroom mirror. “You look perfectly lovely, Winifred, and I would -not be a bit surprised if you get the Shakespeare prize after all, even -though Olive has the best class record for the year and I the highest -mark for my essay. We are so close together in this contest that the -least thing may change the balance. It is my private opinion that -whoever gives the best Shakespeare recitation to-day will receive the -prize.” And Gerry sighed and then laughed, as she stooped to adjust her -doublet and hose. “Dear me, Winifred, why couldn’t I have been born a -stately blonde beauty like you so that I might have appeared as lovely -Ophelia instead of having to represent Rosalind on account of my short -hair?” - -Winifred also laughed, just the least bit complacently, happening at -that moment to catch sight of her own fair reflection. She was dressed -in a long clinging robe of some soft white material and her pale blonde -hair, bound with a fillet of silver, hung loose about her neck. In her -hand she held a sheet of paper with her speech written upon it, which -she glanced at a little nervously every now and then. - - “Oh, what a noble mind is here o’erthrown! - The courtier’s, soldier’s, scholar’s, eye, tongue, sword; - The expectancy and rose of the fair state.” - -“Dear me, Gerry, don’t talk of my winning the prize by my recitation,” -Winifred groaned. “I have the most dreadful case of stage fright -already, and to think that I have to make the first speech!” She glanced -up at the clock on their mantel. “It is only a half hour now before we -must go downstairs and I believe that there have never been so many -guests at one of our commencements before. I suppose it is because the -day is so beautiful that we can have our whole entertainment outdoors. I -wish we had a front window, for I am sure I have heard at least a -hundred automobiles drive up to the house. If we go to the ranch girls’ -room we can see out into the yard and I can have a look at Olive. I am -simply dying to find out what she looks like!” - -Gerry shook her head positively. “Jean says that no one is to come near -Olive; she even means to go downstairs with her herself and to slip -around to the entrance to the stage in the pavilion, so that no one -shall dare speak to her. So I suppose if the truth be known, Winifred, -Olive is just about as badly scared as you are and a good deal more so, -considering how dreadfully shy she is. But don’t fear that she will not -look pretty. I heard Jessica Hunt say the other night that she never saw -any one so exquisite in her life as Olive in her Shakespeare costume. -And I feel rather proud because Olive chose Perdita in ‘The Winter’s -Tale’ for her character because I asked her to. She had once made me -think of a description of Perdita.” - -Winifred flushed angrily and then began walking up and down the room. -“See here, Gerry Ferrows, I do think it is just too hateful for you to -have kept on encouraging Olive to try for this prize. It will look -awfully queer to people if she accepts a prize from her own grandmother -anyhow, and I do need it most dreadfully.” In her nervousness and temper -Winifred was almost in tears, though not for worlds would she -consciously have marred her lovely appearance. - -A low whistle came from between Gerry’s red lips. “Please don’t leave me -out of the race altogether, sweet Winifred,” she begged. “I may not have -so great beauty as you and Olive to commend me, but remember: - - “‘From the east to western Ind, - No jewel is like Rosalind. - Her worth, being mounted on the wind, - Through all the world bears Rosalind.’” - -Then Gerry, marching over with an exaggerated, swashbuckling stride -toward Winifred, smote her on the shoulder with more friendliness than -she had shown her in many weeks. “Come, Winifred, what is the use of our -worrying now? I believe I need this prize money quite as much as you do, -since my father has just made some unfortunate investments and may not -be able to let me come back to old Primrose Hall to graduate next year. -And of course we know this prize would mean our tuition. But we must -take what comes with a good grace, for you and Olive and I have an -equally fair chance with our speeches to-day. So if Olive wins we ought -not to fuss, for I can perfectly well understand how she wants the glory -of winning and not the prize itself. She told me that she had been -working for this prize ever since she first came to Primrose Hall in -order to show her beloved Jack Ralston how much she had appreciated the -opportunities she had given her.” - -In reply Winifred merely shrugged her shoulders scornfully, but at the -same instant, a bell sounding out on the lawn and a great clapping of -hands, she again fell to studying the paper in her hand. “Good gracious, -there is someone’s speech just ending!” she exclaimed, “so our turns -will come soon.” - -And Gerry, even though she was sure of being letter perfect in -Rosalind’s saucy reply to Orlando: “No, no, Orlando, men are April when -they woo, December when they wed,” opened her “As You Like It” and began -once more to read over her part. - -So five, ten, fifteen minutes went by and then Jessica Hunt’s voice was -heard outside in the hall: “Where are my Shakespeare heroines?” she -demanded. “Gerry, Winifred, please put your long coats around you and -come on downstairs now. The coast is clear and it is almost time for -your speeches. I will tell Olive.” - -Winifred had indeed been right: no commencement day at Primrose Hall had -ever been so beautiful as this one and never before had one called forth -so many guests. - -Built as like as possible to an old Greek outdoor theatre, a stage had -been erected at the edge of a grove of trees not many yards from the -great house and a kind of covered arbor temporarily arranged so that the -girls who took part in the commencement exercises might pass from the -house to the stage without being seen by the audience. The stage had no -curtain and only the sky for a canopy, a rarely blue sky with the white -clouds that melt before the deeper warmth of June. On either side were -piled great branches of trees freshly brought in from the woods, -delicately green with the early leaves of spring, and the floor of the -stage was strewn with wild-flowers, buttercups, violets and daisies. - -In the yard facing the pretty impromptu theatre the audience was seated, -perhaps two hundred persons, so that any girl making her first public -appearance before it might reasonably be frightened. Perhaps it was the -beauty of the day, perhaps the novelty of Miss Winthrop’s stage -arrangements, for surely no audience had ever appeared more enthusiastic -than hers, and as each girl had stepped forth on the stage, apparently -entering from the heart of a woods on to a carpet of flowers, the -applause and interest had increased. - -The Shakespeare heroines were to be the closing feature of the -programme. Therefore, in the front row facing the stage were half a -dozen men and women whom Miss Winthrop had invited to act as judges, and -a few feet from them in a chair next Miss Winthrop’s sat old Madame Van -Mater, the owner of “The Towers” and the donor of the Shakespeare prize. -Her appearance at the commencement had been a surprise to everybody, but -whether she came because of her interest in her newly-found -granddaughter or whether because of her affection for Miss Winthrop, no -one had been told. - -When Winifred Graham first came out upon the stage such a murmur of -admiration ran through the audience that its echo reached to her, giving -her just the confidence she had needed for the making of her speech. And -truly her beauty justified the admiration, for she was wearing the -costume that best suited her and was most effective against the natural -background of evergreens and flowers. The sunshine falling between the -leaves of the trees overhead touched her pale blonde hair to a deeper -gold, making fairy shadow patterns on the pure white of her dress. - -Without a trace of the nervousness that had haunted her upstairs, nor a -moment’s faltering over her lines, Winifred recited Ophelia’s famous -description of Hamlet, ending with the words, “O, woe is me, To have -seen what I have seen, see what I see.” Then for just a moment she -paused with a pretty, pathetic gesture and her gaze swept the faces of -her judges before she vanished from the stage amid much clapping of -hands. Three times Winifred was recalled by the audience and at each -call Gerry’s heart sank lower and lower in her pretty high-top boots. - -“There is no use my trying now,” she grumbled, “because Winifred has -already won.” When a friend standing near whispered something in her ear -she laughed in her usual good-humored fashion. “Oh, yes, I suppose I can -recite better than Winifred, but what avails it me when I can’t look -like the goddess of spring as she does at this moment there on the stage -with her arms full of flowers.” - -Gerry and two of her closest friends were under the enclosed arbor in -the spot nearest the entrance to the stage, as her recitation came next, -and a few feet away Olive, closely guarded by Jean, was also waiting. - -Hurriedly Jessica Hunt rushed in, whispering something to Jean. Then she -darted across to Gerry. “Winifred is coming off now for the last time; -are you ready? Winifred looked perfectly lovely, but she did not speak -distinctly enough. Remember it is difficult to hear out of doors.” - -Then came Gerry’s cue. A little nearsighted without her glasses, she -tripped over some branches, making a headlong rush on to the stage in -her entrance, as though Rosalind, really trying to find her way through -an unknown woods, had stumbled in the underbrush. - -No one had ever been able to call Gerry Ferrows handsome, and yet in the -character and costume of Rosalind she was certainly at her best. Perhaps -the description that the heroine gives of herself in masquerade will -best describe Gerry’s present appearance. - - “More than common tall, - That I did suit me all points like a man? - A gallant curtle axe upon my thigh, - A boar-spear in my hand and—in my heart - Lie there what hidden woman’s fear there will— - We’ll have a swashing and a martial outside.” - -And truly if Gerry did feel any womanish fear during her recitation she -did not in any way betray it, for at once the gayety of Rosalind, her -wit and gallant courage, seemed to have fallen like a mantle upon Gerry. -Twice her audience laughed aloud in the course of her recitation and -once two of the judges nodded at each other, which had not happened -during Winifred’s speech. Nevertheless, though Gerry came twice on to -the stage again to receive her flowers and applause, she was certain -that unless Olive made a much better showing than she had, Winifred -would be the winner of their contest. - -For some unexplainable reason there was a slight wait before the third -girl, who was to close the competition, made her appearance. And this -was unfortunate for Olive. In the first place, the large audience was -growing a little bit tired and hungry, and in the second place, it gave -them the opportunity to begin talking of Olive’s curious history, -retailing to one another as much or as little as each one of them knew. - -Olive’s costume was a gift from Ruth and Jack, sent from New York and -shown to no one before the entertainment save Jessica Hunt and Miss -Winthrop. No one will ever know how much pleasure the planning of it had -given to Jack Ralston in the tiresome days at the hospital. Not that she -and Ruth were Shakespeare scholars, only it had happened that years -before Ruth had seen a famous actress, who soon afterwards retired from -the stage, in this very character of Perdita in “The Winter’s Tale” and -had never forgotten the details of her dress. - -Quietly, when but few persons were looking, Olive at last skipped on to -the stage. She was wearing a pale pink crepe dress that came down to her -ankles, covered with an overdress of flowered tulle. Her long and -curiously black hair was braided in the two familiar loose braids with a -single pink flower at one side, and on her arm she carried a basket of -spring flowers. - -Had all her friends and acquaintances not been convinced from the first -that Olive would be frightened to death before so many people? It was -odd, therefore, that as she first came down toward the edge of the -platform she smiled assurance at Miss Winthrop, who was trying her best -not to appear too anxious or too interested in her favorite pupil. - -Then, Olive, before beginning Perdita’s speech, started slowly to dance -an old English folk dance such as the country people must have danced in -rustic England long before even Shakespeare’s time. Dancing was an art -with Olive, so that before she commenced her speech her audience was -won. - -Still not showing the least trace of fright or nervousness, when her -dance was concluded, Olive stepped forward again to the center of the -open-air stage: - - “I would I had some flowers o’ the spring that might - Become your time of day; and yours, and yours—” - -She looked from one face to the other in the rows of people watching her -as though addressing Perdita’s pretty speech to them. - -Then Miss Winthrop lost her color and old Madame Van Mater stiffened and -her eyes flashed. “Foolish girl, she has forgotten her part and is going -to make a spectacle of herself and me!” she whispered in her friend’s -ear. “I wish I had never come.” - -And apparently Olive had forgotten her lines or else grown suddenly ill, -for she continued standing perfectly still and speechless for a period -of one, two minutes, though surely it seemed like ten, while waves of -color swept over her face, turning it crimson and then leaving it pale. -“Oh, I cannot believe it,” she whispered softly to herself, never taking -her eyes from a central place in the audience, as though on this -exquisite May morning she had suddenly seen a ghost. - -What secret message traveled across the heads of the audience to the -girl on the stage, no one knows, but Olive must have caught it, for she -smiled again and dipping her hand in her basket of wild-flowers appeared -to present them to various characters, who in Shakespeare’s play stand -grouped around the figure of Perdita as she makes this speech: - - “Daffodils, - That come before the swallow dares, and take - The winds of March with beauty; violets dim, - But sweeter than the lids of Juno’s eyes - Or Cytherea’s breath; pale primroses, - That die unmarried—” - -As Olive spoke slowly she drew her flowers from her basket, dropping -them to the ground and moving gradually backwards toward the entrance to -the stage. Then, when she had recited the last line of her speech, she -made a quick bow and before her audience realized that her speech was -actually over, had disappeared. - -Whether the applause that followed after her equalled Winifred’s and -Gerry’s she did not know and at the moment did not care. For Jean was -waiting only a few yards away and Olive rushed to her at once. - -“Oh, Jean dear,” she said half laughing and half crying, “I didn’t see? -It can’t be true! Oh, why didn’t you tell me before?” - -“Because we did not want you to be too excited,” Jean answered, trying -to speak calmly, “but oh, Olive, please hurry, for Jack wishes you to -come to her at once.” - - - - -CHAPTER XXV - -“JACK” - - -Under a tall linden tree shedding its yellowy perfumed blossoms about -her a young girl stood alone, waiting. She was pale and fragile and -leaned slightly on a cane; her hair was a deep bronze, the color of -copper in the sunlight, and her gray eyes, were now unusually dark with -emotion. She was evidently trying to appear less disturbed than she -felt, for her head was tilted back the least bit and her lips were held -close together; indeed, her whole attitude suggested a strong effort at -self-control. - -“Jack!” Two figures came running across the lawn entirely unconscious of -the number of persons about them, and the girl in the costume of an -English shepherdess arrived at the desired goal first. - -“Olive!” There are no adequate words that can be spoken on first meeting -after a long separation from one we love. And so for several moments the -two ranch girls clung together trying hard to keep back their tears, -while Jean, standing a little apart from them, pretended to laugh at -their emotion. - -“But, Jack, you are well. Why didn’t you let us know? When did it -happen? There are so many things I want to ask you and yet I don’t care -whether you answer me or not, I am so glad you are here.” Olive said at -last. - -“Perhaps it wasn’t quite fair of me, Olive, to have taken you so much by -surprise. Jean and Frieda had a few days of warning. But you see it was -like this,” Jack explained, leaning a little more heavily on her cane, -although neither Jean nor Olive noticed it. “When my operation was over -neither the surgeons nor anybody knew just at first whether or not I was -to get well. So of course Ruth did not wish to write and tell you until -we were certain. Then after a little while when I began to get stronger -I thought how I should love to surprise you by appearing out here at -Primrose Hall just as I have done to-day. Of course I did not mean to -put off coming until commencement day,” Jack continued apologetically, -“but somehow I did not get well quite as fast as I expected, until it -had to be now or never, so Ruth wrote Jean and Frieda to expect us this -morning but not to let you know, for we were afraid that seeing me would -somehow affect your speech.” - -“It nearly finished it altogether,” Olive returned. “Just think how I -felt, Jack, when suddenly in the midst of my poor effort I saw you -standing straight up in the crowd looking just as you used to do.” - -“I shouldn’t have stood up, Ruth tried her best to hide me, only I got -so excited.” Jack wavered a little. “Jean, of course I am perfectly -well, but would you mind getting me a chair; I am not accustomed to -standing so long.” - -Feeling dreadfully ashamed of her thoughtlessness, Jean hurried off, -returning in another minute empty handed. But following close behind her -was a tall man in a costume that somehow looked a little out of place at -Primrose Hall. Also he walked with a freedom and power that did not -speak of city streets, neither did the deep tan of his skin. He was -carrying the big, comfortable chair for Jean. - -“Oh, Jim, Mr. Colter, I don’t think it fair to give a person so many -surprises in one day!” Olive protested. - -Jim Colter, the overseer of the Rainbow Ranch and the manager of the -Rainbow Mine, was engaged in helping Jack into her chair so that he -could not at once shake hands with Olive. But in another moment his big -hands closed over hers. - -“Don’t talk about surprises, Miss Olive Van Mater,” he replied. “To -think I used to laugh at all the yarns in the story books, and here I -was raising up a real live heroine out at the Rainbow Ranch, whose -history makes most of the fiction tales look real pale! But ain’t it -great to see the boss herself again. I couldn’t believe she was getting -well when she wrote me; I was like that man from Missouri, ‘you had to -show me’.” And here Jim put his hand on top of Jack’s uncovered head. - -“Jim Colter, where are you and Jack and everybody?” a new voice -demanded. “I promised to let Jack and Olive have just five minutes -together alone, and I have, but now I am not going to let my sister get -out of my sight again as long as I live!” Frieda had joined the little -group under the linden tree just as Jim was finishing his speech and -before Olive could answer him. - -Now Olive turned again to Jack. “Do you know about everything, my -grandmother and all my queer history?” she asked. - -[Illustration: “DON’T TALK ABOUT SURPRISES.”] - -Jack nodded. “Yes, Olive, I do know,” she returned, “and I am awfully -glad and awfully sorry, for somehow it seems to make you belong to us -less than you used to do. Ruth told me as soon as she thought I was well -enough to hear. Didn’t you know that I have even had a letter from your -grandmother thanking me for rescuing you from a person by whom she had -been deceived, meaning old Laska, I suppose. But goodness gracious, who -are all those persons coming towards us now?” - -Half a dozen persons were approaching, Madame Van Mater and Miss -Winthrop, Ruth Drew and Gerry Ferrows, and bringing up the end of the -line Jessica Hunt and Peter Drummond, smiling at one another and -apparently unconscious of every one else. - -With great solemnity introductions were soon exchanged and then -immediately afterwards Gerry Ferrows slipped over next Olive. - -“Miss Winthrop said I might be first to tell you that you have received -the Shakespeare prize,” she whispered. “The judges voted your speech the -most effective, and as you already had the best record for the year in -the Junior Shakespeare class, why of course the honors are yours and I -want to congratulate you.” - -With entire good feeling Gerry put forth her hand toward her victorious -rival. - -But Olive quickly clasped her own hands behind her. “I won’t be -congratulated, Gerry, and I won’t have a prize that I don’t deserve,” -she answered. “Tell me, please, who was the second choice?” - -“I was, or at least the judges said so, though I entirely disagree with -them,” Gerry returned, blushing furiously, for Olive was almost forcibly -trying to drag her over to where Madame Van Mater and Miss Winthrop were -standing together. - -“Yes, the Shakespeare prize is to be yours, Gerry,” Miss Winthrop at -once explained. “Olive wanted the pleasure of trying for it just to see -what she could do, but Madame Van Mater does not wish the prize given -her, and of course under the circumstances Olive does not wish it -herself.” - -Ten minutes later Jean, Frieda, Olive and Gerry were peremptorily borne -away by a number of their classmates. Later on from a kind of throne on -one of the Primrose Hall verandas Jack and some of her friends witnessed -the pretty ceremony of the crowning of Olive as Queen of the day. For -several hours afterwards the dancing out on the lawn continued, Olive -raising a silver wand as a signal for each dance to begin and then in -royal fashion leading it off herself. Four or five times during the -afternoon Olive and Donald Harmon had been partners. Once, when Jack had -been watching them, she happened to turn to speak to Madame Van Mater, -who sat next her. But whatever she may have intended to say she did not, -but instead waited to study her companion’s expression. - -There was no doubt that Madame Van Mater was looking distinctly pleased -at the sight of Olive and Donald together, for there was almost a smile -of satisfaction on her face. Watching her, Jack flushed, biting her -lips, then she leaned over and spoke: - -“You are very good, Madame Van Mater, to be willing to have Olive go -home with us to our ranch this summer. I wonder if afterwards you will -do something that is kinder still?” she asked. - -With distinct approval Madame Van Mater regarded Jack, for there was an -air of distinction and aristocracy about her that was very pleasing. - -“It was Katherine Winthrop’s idea that I should not interfere with my -granddaughter’s liberty at present,” she replied; “but what more would -you have me to do?” - -For answer Jack, who was growing weary, leaned back on her sofa cushions -looking out over the garden and fields to where afar off she could see -just a silver line marking the course of the Hudson River. - -“I have been shut up inside a hospital for seven months, Madame Van -Mater,” she explained slowly, “and until my accident I don’t believe I -had ever been indoors twenty-four hours together in my life. And all the -time lately I have been thinking and longing for just two things. One to -see our beloved ranch again, to get on horseback and ride for miles and -miles over the prairie. And then—” - -“And then?” old Madame Van Mater repeated with more interest than you -would believe she could show. - -Jack laughed. “Why then I want to travel as far and as fast as I can. -You see, I have been shut in so long and some days I used to think -perhaps I should never see much more of the world than just four walls.” -Jack shuddered and then braced her shoulders in her old, determined way. -“But I am well now and, as the doctors don’t wish me to be in school, I -want you to promise to let Olive go to Europe with Jean and Frieda and -me next fall?” - -“Europe?” Madame Van Mater reflected a moment. “An excellent idea! I -could have planned nothing better for Olive, for travel and experience -may give her just the ease and culture she needs. But who will look -after you?” - -At this moment Ruth Drew slowly approached towards Jack and her -companion. She too was looking pale and worn from her long vigil of -watching, but she smiled as Jack, reaching forth, took tight hold of her -hand. - -“Why Miss Drew will chaperon us, of course,” she answered. “She will not -go home with us this summer, but she has promised to go abroad -afterwards and to stay forever if we wish.” - -Before Ruth could do more than make a conventional reply, Miss Winthrop -arriving persuaded her old friend to join her in saying farewell to her -guests. - -So just for a few moments, as all their friends were walking about in -the great garden, Ruth and Jack were once more left alone. Not far off -they could see Jim Colter slowly approaching them with Jean and Frieda -holding on to his hands like little girls. - -Jack looked first at Jim and then turned to the older girl at her side. - -“I am so sorry, Ruth,” she said, “perhaps I was foolish, but I used to -hope in those long empty days at the hospital that when you and Jim saw -each other again you would forget what has separated you and only -remember you care for one another. Somehow when one has been very ill, -love seems the only thing that is really important.” - -Ruth flushed until she looked like the old Ruth of those last weeks at -the ranch before Jim had made the tragic confession of his past fault to -her. “Jim does not care for me any more, Jack dear,” she whispered, -although no one was near enough to hear. “He has not spoken to me alone -since he arrived in New York, so I suppose he has not forgiven my -hardness and narrowness; besides, men forget love very easily.” - -Jack shook her head and somehow her expression was happier than it had -been the moment before Ruth’s speech. “Jim does not forget,” she -answered, “he is the faithfulest, tenderest, kindest person in the -world.” And then the oldest ranch girl sighed. “Dear me, isn’t it the -horridest thing in the world to have to wait for the nice things to -happen?” she asked. “Of course, we all know, Ruth, that some day -everything will turn out for the best, but it is just that silly old -indefinite word some that makes the waiting so difficult.” - -The next volume to be issued in the Ranch Girls’ Series will appear -under the title of “The Ranch Girls in Europe.” In this story the -histories of the four girls and their chaperon will be more fully -developed, for having put childhood and school life behind them, they -will enter that broader world of young womanhood, where romance stands -ever waiting round the corner. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Ranch Girls at Boarding School, by -Margaret Vandercook - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE RANCH GIRLS AT BOARDING SCHOOL *** - -***** This file should be named 56097-0.txt or 56097-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/6/0/9/56097/ - -Produced by Roger Frank -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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