CHAPTER VIII.
THE ESCAPE FROM THE DANCE.
"IT is all settled, Laura dear," Mrs. Simpson announced comfortably asthe automobile drew up in front of her ranch-house door. "The Indiangirl is to stay with us and be your maid, as your mother says you areaccustomed to having some one to look after you, and Mrs. Merton tellsme she has taught this Olilie how to behave about a house. She seems tohave made quite a pet of her. I haven't talked it over with Jean andJack yet, but I am sure it would be most unwise for them to attempt tokeep the Indian girl at their ranch. They have Aunt Ellen and Zack to dotheir work, and indeed they ought to have some one to look after them,instead of undertaking to care for some one else." Mrs. Simpson noddedemphatically. She was fond of giving advice, a little more fond thanJean and Jack were of receiving it.
The ranch girls said nothing, but Frank broke in to the conversation,unexpectedly. "Oh, I say, Mrs. Simpson," he remarked thoughtfully."Don't you know, this Olilie, or Olive as you sometimes call her, don'tstrike me in the least as belonging to the servant class. Of course welook at these things differently in England from what you do out West,but this girl is so gentle and refined, it seems to me she ought to havea real chance."
Jack smiled gratefully, with her head turned away. "I think so too," shemurmured to herself. "I only wish we knew how to manage it."
The house party was to have a dance at the ranch house that evening.Jean and Jack and Frieda had never had any real dancing lessons, but thetwo older girls were accustomed to going to the informal parties at theother ranch houses. They knew how to dance the waltz, two-step andquadrille, and it never occurred to them that Laura would try tointroduce the new style dances at their Western party. Of course some ofher guests had been to schools in the big Western cities and understoodthe latest dances. Dan Norton had spent a year at the Leland StanfordUniversity, and, though he had not been able to pass his Sophomoreexams., he considered himself very superior to the boys and girls whohad never been away either to college or school.
The three ranch girls were not worried about their dancing, but theywere about their costumes. Mrs. Simpson had suggested that Olive wouldfeel shy, if she came to the party, and she was grateful to be left out.If only Jean and Jack would tell her what they had found out at theIndian village, and what they meant to do with her! But the girls didnot realize that the Indian girl knew anything of their trip of theafternoon or that she was eating her heart out in silence rather thanask them what had occurred.
Jean shook out her party dress anxiously; Jack surveyed hers with anexpression half of affection and half of disdain. The dresses were theirbest last summer frocks and Jim had gone over to Laramie and broughtthem home with him in triumph. They were not what the girls would havechosen for themselves, but they had been proud of them until to-night.
"Do you think she will laugh at us, Jack?" Jean inquired, bravely. "I amsure I don't care if she does."
At least poor Jim had had a good eye for color, if the materials he hadchosen for the girls' gowns were odd.
Jean's was a soft rose color, just the shade of the wild rose thatcovers the western prairies in the early spring and the girl smiledslightly as she looked at herself critically in the glass. The gown wasbecoming to her nut-brown hair and eyes and her clear, colorless skin.
Jack was dressing Frieda in a corner. "You are pretty as a picture,Jean!" she insisted. "Please don't care so much about what Laura Postmay think. Come and kiss Frieda, she is sweet enough to eat."
Frieda's costume was the prettiest of the three, although it was ofcoarse white embroidery, such as only a man would buy. Her long blondehair was freshly braided and tied with pale blue ribbons, and around herplump little waist was a blue sash which in color matched her eyes,sparkling now from excitement at attending her first dance. Jean marchedFrieda over to a chair and held her in her lap, so that Jack could getready to go to the reception room with them.
Jacqueline Ralston thought little about her own appearance. She probablyknew she was pretty, most pretty people are aware of it, but Jack hadreally had so much to do and so many things to think about, that she hadalmost none of the vanities of most girls of sixteen. She coiled hergold-brown braids around her head in simple fashion, though she usuallywore them down, as it was so difficult to keep her hair up when she wason horseback. But to-night, in honor of the party, she wished to lookmore grown up. Jack's hair waved from the roots to the ends and brokeout all over her forehead in wayward curls and was particularly becomingto her, arranged in a simple coronet. In five minutes she had on herblue cotton crepe gown and the three went into Mrs. Simpson's bigliving-room.
The room had a hardwood floor and had been charmingly decorated withevergreens, which the men had brought in from the woods at the far endof the Simpson Ranch.
"Oh, Jack, Jean, look!" Frieda suddenly gasped. A vision of fashionableloveliness swept before their girlish eyes. Miss Laura Post was crossingthe room followed by her mother. Jack and Jean felt like creeping backto their bedroom, not realizing how inappropriate Laura's and hermother's costumes were for such a simple home party.
Laura was a picture and looked as if she had just stepped out of thepages of a magazine. She wore a white lace gown over silk and chiffon,trimmed in silver lace. Her hair was elaborately dressed in abewildering mass of small, blonde puffs and around her neck a string ofpearls shone softly. Mrs. Post was in violet satin, and wore a diamondcrescent, which made Frieda's round eyes open wider and wider. She hadnever seen real diamonds, only their crystal imitations shining in thegreat Wyoming rocks.
For a little while Jean and Jack felt as dowdy as old rag dolls, butwhen the dancing began they forgot to care about their clothes. Therewere a number of other guests besides the house party, who had drivenover to the dance, and most of them were friends of the ranch girls.
Frank did not ask Jack to dance nor did he make any effort to talk toher. She had said she could not be friends with him and he did not meanto take advantage of their being at the same house party together, tothrust himself upon her, as his attentions seemed unwelcome.
After supper, Laura Post grew tired of the simple old-fashioned waltzwhich had entertained her visitors the first of the evening, andinsisted that the Spanish waltz was the newest thing in her set, andthat she wanted to try it. She managed to get half a dozen young peopleto attempt it with her while others sat around the wall.
Jean dearly loved to dance, and had no intention of being a wall flower,so she and Harry Pryor slipped out on the big ranch veranda to talk. Itwas a wonderful moonlight night, as clear and brilliant as the day, andacross the wide stretch of lowlands the moon shimmered and shone, as ifreflected on the still surface of the ocean.
Jacqueline Ralston saw Jean and Harry disappear; slowly she followedthem and stood for a moment drinking in the wonderful beauty of theWestern night, then crossed to Jean and Harry.
"Jean, Harry, wouldn't it be a glorious night for a ride?" she askedbreathlessly. "Do you think it would be wrong if we should go for alittle run across the prairies? We could easily find the trail, for itis as bright as daytime."
Jean clapped her hands softly. "Bully!" Harry announced quietly. "It isnot ten o'clock yet and we can be back long before the dance breaks up.I'll go saddle the ponies while you girls slip into your riding togs."
"Be sure to get Hotspur and Frisk, Jean's pony," Jack entreated. "Jimsent over our own ponies from the ranch, and I simply hate to ride anyhorse but dear little Hotspur."
Just as Jean and Jack slipped into the front hall to go to their room,Frank Kent stepped out on the porch. He was looking pale and ill, forthe heat of the room and the effort of dancing had brought the oldweakness back on him that he had felt only a few times since his comingto Wyoming.
Jack felt a sudden wave of sympathy and friendliness. She touched Franklightly on the arm: "My cousin and I and Harry Pryor are going to stealaway from the dance for a little horseback ride. Would you care to comewith us?" she asked.
Frank's face lost
most of its pallor. He immediately insisted that theone thing in the world he most wished to do was to take a moonlight rideacross the prairies.
Ten minutes later the two girls and two boys cantered away from theSimpson ranch. They had no thought of staying out long, and had leftword with Mrs. Simpson's maid that they would be back in about an hour.Aunt Sallie was too busy with her other guests to be interrupted, and itnever dawned on the girls that they should not have gone for a ride atnight, for they were just like a couple of careless boys.