The Ranch Girls and Their Great Adventure

  CHAPTER V

  AN APPARITION

  THE next morning Frieda received a message from her brother-in-lawasking her to give him half an hour of her time, whenever it wasconvenient to her.

  In a way she had anticipated this request, although it had come soonerthan she expected. Frieda knew that Frank was fond of her and regardedhimself as her brother. She had no other. Also, she held a wise ideainside her blonde head, believing that men were apt to stand together inmany difficulties of the kind in which she and her husband were nowinvolved.

  However, Frieda did not, of course, anticipate the news of her husband'shaving immediately followed her to Europe. She had not written to him orto any friend in Chicago since her sudden departure. But she had made upher mind that the last interview between herself and Henry was theirfinal one. There could be no reason for their ever meeting again. Shesupposed, of course, that there were certain matters that would have tobe arranged in the future, but Frieda was not given to troubling herselfover details. Someone else had always attended to such things for her,in order that she might have her way. Later, Jim Colter, or Frank, or alawyer--Frieda was entirely vague as to the method to be employed--wouldhave to see that she was released from the cause of her unhappiness.

  For since arriving at Jack's house not thirty-six hours before, Friedahad been happier than she had for several months. Therefore, during thenight she had decided for the hundredth time, that her husband must bethe sole cause of all the upsetting emotions which had been recentlytroubling her. So soon as she could learn to forget Henry and put therecollection of him entirely out of her mind, she would again become theperfectly care free and irresponsible Frieda of the old days at theRainbow Ranch.

  As she was not fond of getting up in the mornings and usually did prettymuch what she liked in her sister's house, Frieda had not gone down tobreakfast. However, she sent word to her brother-in-law that she wouldbe glad to see him in her own sitting room between eleven and twelveo'clock.

  Whether it was done intentionally or not, Frieda put on a frock in whichshe looked particularly young. It was a simple white muslin, with spraysof blue flowers and folded kerchief fashion across Frieda's whitethroat. Nothing could really make Frieda appear demure; her lips weretoo full and crimson; her nose was too retrousee and her hair held toomuch pure sunlight. But she could look very innocent and much abused,and this was the impression she subconsciously wished to make. One mustnot believe that Frieda actually thought out matters of this kind, butshe was one of the women who acted on what is supposed to be feminineinstinct.

  Frank thought Frieda looked about sixteen instead of twenty-two when hearrived to talk matters over with her. So at once it struck him asabsurd that he was forced to discuss so serious a question as leavingher husband with a mere child like Frieda. Instead of argument Frankbegan with persuasion. First he invited Frieda to tell her side of thestory, which he had heard in part from Jack. Although he had said at thetime of his wife's confidence, that Frieda had not made much of a casefor herself, on hearing her story from Frieda's own lips he offered nosuch criticism.

  When Frieda ended she was crying, so that Frank sympathetically took herhand to console her as any other man would. Then, while holding herhand, he attempted a mild argument in favor of the Professor, finallyconcluding:

  "Frieda, your husband is coming to Kent House some time this afternoon.Since it is really your duty to see him and talk over themisunderstanding between you, I feel sure you will."

  Nevertheless, Frieda gently but obstinately shook her head.

  "I'm sorry to disappoint you, Frank, and Jack too, if she really feelsas you do, but I never mean to see Henry again."

  However, until lunch time Frank remained in the blue sitting roomdiscussing the foolishness of her position with Frieda; afterwards hefelt that he had never presented any subject so skillfully in his careeras a member of Parliament, as he argued her own case with hissister-in-law. Frieda never questioned him, never contradicted him, onlyshe continued to shake her head and to repeat gently, "I'm sorry, Frank,but I can't."

  Several times Lord Kent attempted severity because his severity usuallyinfluenced most people. It influenced Frieda, but only to such anoutburst of tears, that he was forced to spend the next five minutes inapologizing in order to comfort her.

  At one o'clock Jack, appearing at the door, immediately recognized thesituation. Both Frank and Frieda appeared exhausted. Frieda announcedthat she would not come to lunch, but would prefer to lie down all theafternoon. As a matter of fact the possibility that her husband mightmake his appearance at Kent House was the real reason which kept Friedain her own room, although offering the excuse of a headache.

  Therefore, about four o'clock, when Professor Henry Tilford Russellfinally did arrive, he was able to see only Lord and Lady Kent, hisbrother-in-law and sister-in-law.

  Personally, Jack was uncertain how she should greet him. Of what actualunkindness he was guilty of to Frieda she was not yet certain.Nevertheless, the fact remaining that he had not made her little sisterhappy filled Lady Kent with resentment and dislike. Certainly, ProfessorRussell should have realized how much older he was than Frieda and notexpected her to conform to his dullness and routine.

  As a matter of fact Jack also would have preferred not to have to comein contact with her sister's husband until she understood the situationbetween them more thoroughly. Yet, when Professor Russell was announced,it was she who was forced to go first into the drawing room.

  There must have been a delay of about five minutes since she had waitedthat length of time for her husband, who chanced to have gone out to thestables to give an order. Then, fearing to appear intentionally rude,Jack approached their visitor alone.

  He could not have heard her as she entered, for he was sitting in alarge chair with his head resting in his hand and looked so exhausted,possibly from his trip, that Lady Kent forgot for the moment to beangry. When he aroused himself and later held out his hand, she took itat once, although a moment before she had not been sure whether sheought, because of her own loyalty to Frieda.

  "Is Frieda well? If you only realized the relief to find she is safehere with you! At first I did not know where the child had gone,"Professor Russell began so simply, that any human being would have beendisarmed.

  It will be remembered, that in the last volume of the "Ranch Girls AtHome Again," Professor Russell is introduced to the Ranch girls by RalphMerritt, who told them of the Professor's intense dislike for girls. Atfirst he appeared to regard Frieda only as a child and therefore made anexception of her. Then, later, after his accident at Rainbow Mine whenhis leg was broken and Frieda undertook to keep him amused, an amazingfriendship developed between them which finally resulted in theirmarriage.

  In replying to his question Jack found herself answering as reassuringlyas if Frieda really had been a runaway child, since this seemed to bethe spirit in which her husband thought of her.

  "She will see me?" he asked eagerly. But when Jack shook her head he didnot appear surprised, being evidently accustomed to Frieda's vagaries.

  Moreover, Lord Kent then came into the room.

  Afterwards, Professor Russell related his side of the difficulty betweenhimself and his wife. His story did not after all differ so much fromFrieda's account, for he put the blame upon himself, as she had done.

  "I was too old for her; we ought never to have married. The fault wasall mine," he ended so despondently, that Jack felt as if she could notaccept the very conclusion she had reached the day before.

  Professor Russell could not be persuaded to remain long--not even fortea. It was agreed, however, that he would spend the next few weeks inLondon and that later they might reach some decision. In the meantimeJack promised to do her best to persuade her sister to have at least oneinterview with her husband.

  Lord Kent followed his brother-in-law to the door.

  "Frieda is a spoiled baby; you have simply been too good to her. Someday she will wake up and find this out
for herself," he declared.

  But Professor Russell only shook his head sadly and departed.

  Even after learning of her husband's departure Frieda still refused tojoin her family. What she was thinking about alone in her own apartmentno one knew, since she asked that no one disturb her.

  However, at half past five, realizing that her husband then must besafely on his way back to London, Frieda decided that she could endureher own rooms no longer. Without a word to anyone, she put on a long,light weight blue coat and a small, close fitting, blue turban andpassing down through the long halls and through a side entrance vanishedinto the outdoors.

  It was Frieda's plan merely to walk about in the gardens until she couldpersuade herself into a calmer frame of mind. She was sure, of course,that she cared nothing for her husband and yet all afternoon she hadfound herself wondering if he were not worn out by his journey.Ordinarily he was not a good traveler and he must also have sufferedthrough being compelled to desert his summer classes at the Universityin order to seek her.

  Frieda discovered one of the gardeners at work in the flower beds and,as he persisted in talking with her, she started down one of the shadedavenues along the edge of the park in order to be alone. She did notoften walk for any distance, since she had never been so fond ofexercise as the other girls.

  But Frieda felt unexplainably restless and out of sorts. This wasfoolish because, having made up her mind that she wanted her freedomand being determined to gain it, there was no point in worrying.

  Frieda kept walking hurriedly on. It was a beautiful, soft afternoon,with the first hint of twilight in the sky and in the atmosphere.

  Kent Park covered several acres and Frieda wandered further from thehouse than she knew. After a time the road which she had taken curvedinto a path leading into the woods. There was a fairly heavy forest nearby, which was a part of the Kent estate and she strolled into this.

  Later, Frieda sat down for a few minutes. She was in no hurry to returnhome, except in time for dinner which was at a late hour, according tothe English custom. Not that she meant to appear at dinner, but thatJack or Olive would be sure to seek her at that time.

  Frieda made rather a charming picture amid the scene she hadunconsciously chosen for herself. She was sitting on the trunk of a treewhich had fallen from the weight of years and infirmities. There was alittle clearing behind her and, as she had taken off her hat, the sunshone on her bowed head and shoulders. She wished very much that shecould stop thinking about a number of things, for Frieda was one of thepeople who resent having to grow up and there are more of them in thisworld than we realize.

  Then, suddenly, Frieda heard an odd noise, which at least startled hersufficiently to bring the result she had been wishing for, since it madeher stop thinking of unpleasant things. The noise was not loud and itwould have been difficult to have explained exactly what the sound was.Only Frieda for the first time realized that she had been unwise inhaving come so far away from the house without mentioning to anyonewhere she was going.

  The woods in which she was resting was a portion of the game preservesbelonging to the Kent Estate, or a portion of land set apart for huntingat certain times of the year on English estates. But no one is supposedto hunt on this land except the owner of the estate and the friends whomhe may care to invite.

  Frieda, of course, had stayed long enough in England on other visits tounderstand that poachers are more or less frequent. She thought perhapsthe noise she had heard was a man in hiding, who had been hunting andfeared she might report him. The fact that it was summer time, whenhunting was infrequent, made no impression upon her.

  IN A FEW MOMENTS SHE WAS IN A PANIC]

  At first, however, she was not seriously frightened, although sheconcluded to hurry back to Kent House as quickly as possible.

  But when she started back through the woods, whoever it was in hidingevidently attempted to follow her. The faster she walked, the faster thefootsteps came on behind.

  However, Frieda did not turn her head to discover her pursuer. She hadbeen nervous and worried all day, or she might not have become soalarmed. Instead of looking back she continued hurrying on faster andfaster until, in a few moments, she was in a panic. Then she started torun and to her horror realized that a man was also running with long,easy strides behind her.

  Frieda was totally unaccustomed to looking after herself in anyemergency, and had never been compelled to do so--even in smalladversities. Now she had a sudden impulse to call out for someone, buthad only sufficient breath to increase her speed. If she could get alittle nearer the house, one of the servants could be sure to come toher assistance.

  But Frieda had run only a few yards when, as a perfectly natural resultof her panic, she tripped over some roots hidden in the underbrush andfell forward with her face amid the leaves and twigs and with one legcrumpled under her.

  She must have struck her chin for she felt a dull pain and a queernumbness in her side. However, when she tried to disentangle herself andjump up quickly the pain became more acute. Nevertheless, for oneinstant Frieda struggled and then lay still, for her pursuer had alreadyreached her and was bending over her, for what purpose Frieda did notknow.

  Then she heard a slow, inexpressibly familiar voice say:

  "I am afraid I have frightened you, my dear. I do trust you have notinjured yourself." Then a pair of strong, gentle hands attempted to lifther.

  Naturally, Frieda's first sensation was one of amazement; the second,relief; and the third, anger.

  She managed, however, with assistance to sit in an upright position.Then she began brushing off the twigs and dirt which she felt had beenground into her face. Finally she recovered sufficient breath and selfcontrol to be able to speak.

  "Henry Russell!" she exclaimed, trying to reveal both dignity anddisdain, in spite of her ridiculous position, "will you please tell mewhy you are hiding in Frank's woods like a thief, and why, when Irefused to see you, you terrified the life out of me by chasing me untilI nearly killed myself. I think, at least, I have broken my leg," sheended petulantly.

  Professor Henry Tilford Russell flushed all over his fair, scholarlyface. Taking off his soft grey hat, he ran his hand over the top of hishead, where the hair was already beginning to grow thin.

  "My dear Frieda, you do me an injustice," he began, "although I know myactions do appear as you have just stated them. The truth is I foundmyself unable to go away at once from Kent House. I am not fond ofLondon. I dreaded the loneliness there; also I longed for a sight of youto know for myself that you were well. So I wandered about through thegrounds at some distance from the house and finally entered these woods.When you came into them alone and so unexpectedly, it seemed as if Imust speak to you. I started toward you and you ran. I did not think mypursuit would alarm you. It was one of the many things, Frieda, I shouldhave understood and did not."

  In spite of the fact that the fault of the present situation wasundoubtedly Professor Russell's, there was an unconscious dignity andgraciousness about him as he made his apology, which Frieda recognizedwas undoubtedly lacking both in her appearance and emotions. She feltextremely cross and her leg hurt. She could not go up to the houseassisted by a husband whom she had just scornfully refused to see, andyet she did not believe she could walk alone.

  "Very well, Henry; now that you have accomplished your purpose, I hopeyou will be good enough to leave me," Frieda demanded, believing thatshe would rather suffer anything than a continuance of her presenthumiliation.

  But Professor Russell did not stir.

  "I prefer to see you safely through the woods. When we are nearer thehouse I may be able to find someone to take my place."

  Professor Russell then leaned over and lifted Frieda to her feet. As aresult she found that her leg was not broken or sprained, but onlybruised, and that walking was possible if she moved slowly.

  However, Frieda suffered considerable pain and she was not accustomed tobodily discomfort. At first she tried not to rest her we
ight upon theProfessor's arm, for he had put his arm under hers and was attempting tosupport her almost entirely. But, by and by, as the pain grew worse, shefound herself growing more dependent and, as a matter of fact, herdependence seemed perfectly natural. Once it occurred to her that,during her first acquaintance with Professor Russell, he had been hurtand in more ways than one had leaned upon her. No one ever had asked anykind of care from her before, and in those days she had at least thoughtthat she had fallen in love with the Professor. At least she hadinsisted upon marrying him, when her entire family had opposed theunion.

  There was no conversation between the husband and wife, except thatseveral times Professor Russell, without waiting to be asked, stoppedfor Frieda to rest.

  Then, by and by, when they had reached the edge of the woods, he saw oneof the men servants at a little distance off and signalled to him.

  "There are many things I would like to talk over with you, Frieda, butthis is not the time. Neither do I want you to think I meant to take anunfair advantage of you by forcing myself upon you without yourknowledge. I think I scarcely realized myself just what I was doing. Iam sorry you felt compelled to run away from home because we sometimesquarreled. I do not know just how much I was in the wrong at thosetimes, but I fear you were not happy with me or you would not have letthe fact that we differed about a good many things have made you wish toleave me. Please remember, Frieda, if there is ever a time when you wishto talk matters over with me, I shall be glad to come to you. I will notcome again unless you summon me."

  Then, as the man servant had by this time reached them, ProfessorRussell gave Frieda into the man's charge.

  The next instant, bowing to her as if he had been a stranger, he turnedand started in the opposite direction.

  Frieda did not remember whether she even said good-bye. She did think,however, that she would have liked to have reminded Henry to hold hisshoulders straighter. Really he was not so old--only something overthirty. He seemed to have been one of the persons born old, caringalways more for books than people--more for study than an active life.Frieda actually felt a little sorry for him. Always she must have been adisturbing influence in his life. Perhaps in his way he had been good toher, or at least had intended to be. She wished that she had told him togo back home because she could write to him there, or in case she everwished to see him, she could also go home. She intended to go to theRainbow ranch in the autumn.