The Ranch Girls and Their Great Adventure

by Margaret Vandercook

  CHAPTER X

  THE LETTER

  AS soon as Jack saw Frank's face she realized that something tragic hadoccurred.

  She had come down to the train alone to meet him, but said nothing untilthey had walked away from the little crowd at the station into the gloomof the midwinter afternoon.

  "It is Bryan," Frank then exclaimed without waiting to be asked. "I hadword from the War Office today that he had been mortally wounded."

  He put his arm about Jack to support her if she should turn faint, butthis was not the way Jack received bad news.

  She stopped for a moment, standing straight, however, with her head upand her shoulders braced.

  "Are you sure, Frank, there can be no mistake?" she asked slowly.

  Lord Kent shook his head.

  "I am afraid not, dear. Bryan was leading a charge out of his trenchwhen a shell hit him. His own men carried him back to a field hospital."

  HIS OWN MEN CARRIED HIM BACK TO A FIELD HOSPITAL]

  Jack and Frank then walked slowly on between the winter fields. Thegrass was still green as it remains almost all the year round inEngland, but the trees were stripped and bare, and there were no birdsin sight, except a few melancholy crows, which in England are calledrooks.

  Jack was recalling the day when she and Captain MacDonnell had takentheir last ride together; also the smell of the blossoming hedges andher baby's blue ribbon on his sleeve.

  Since coming to England as a bride, she and Frank and Bryan had enjoyeda charming friendship. It was to Bryan, Frank had first introduced her,asking that he help to make her less homesick for the ranch and her ownpeople.

  In those days Frank's sisters were still unmarried and Bryan had been inthe habit of spending much of his time at Kent House when he was onleave.

  Yet Frank and Bryan were so utterly unlike in temperament. To say thatFrank was an Englishman and Bryan an Irishman explains a great deal.Frank was quieter and more reserved and determined; but Bryan was ardentand emotional, quick to feel an emotion and quick to change. Jack hadalways felt that he loved the outdoors as she did, while Frank wasstudious, more devoted to books and to political questions than to swiftaction.

  At the same time Frank and his wife were thinking along similar lines,although his recollection of his friend went further back than hers. Heremembered the small boy, whose mother had just died, coming to livewith his old bachelor guardian in the queer little house which had sincebelonged to him. He also remembered how shy he had been and yet howoften he had gotten into fights with other boys. But, more thananything, he recalled how Bryan had always seemed to long for thecompanionship of women and how happy he had been to come to Kent Houseand spend hours and days with his mother and sisters. This was one ofthe reasons why it had always seemed strange to Frank that his friendhad never married.

  "But the news only said that Bryan was fatally hurt--not that thingswere over?" Jack asked after their long pause.

  "Yes; but I'm afraid he may be by now," Frank answered. "I have senthalf a dozen cables for more news."

  Jack's grey eyes cleared a little.

  "Then I won't believe the worst until it really happens."

  On their arrival at home Olive and Frieda were sympathetic, butnaturally could not care as much as Jack and Frank, since CaptainMacDonnell was to them only a comparatively new acquaintance.

  But all evening Frieda watched her sister closely, whenever she had theopportunity without being observed. Only a few times before had she seenher with the same expression.

  Half a dozen or more of the neighbors came in after dinner to ask forfurther information concerning Captain MacDonnell, having heard the newsonly indirectly.

  But among them all Jack was the only one who appeared hopeful. Sheoutwardly showed the effect of the anxiety and grief over their friendfar less than Frank. But Frieda at least realized that courage was hersister's strongest characteristic.

  There had always been something gallant about Jack from the time she wasa little girl--the carriage of her head; the look in hereyes--everything about her revealed this.

  And tonight Frieda appreciated the fact more clearly than any one else.There was no friend in the world so loyal as Jack; and no one moreanxious to help those for whom she cared. Frieda knew that whatever elseshe might say during the evening, she was in reality thinking only ofher husband's friend and her own, alone and dying, perhaps with no onenear him for whom he cared.

  As early as possible Jack and Frank went upstairs together, since Frankshowed the effect of the strain by being uncommonly tired.

  They had gone into their own rooms and Jack was slowly beginning toundress when an idea came to her; and she went at once into herhusband's room.

  Frank, she found sitting on the side of his bed.

  "Bryan's letter, Frank," Jack remarked quickly. "Don't you think youought to open it? He said that if anything happened to him you were toread it first, and afterwards I was to see the letter if you thoughtbest. I remember he seemed much in earnest when he gave it to me."

  Frank frowned, and then shook his head.

  "Do you know I had forgotten, Jack? But I don't think Bryan meant us todisturb the letter until we know that the worst has happened to him andwe don't know this yet; we only fear it."

  For a moment Jack was silent, but when she spoke again her voice andmanner expressed a quiet firmness.

  "I think you are mistaken, Frank. There must be something in Bryan'sletter that he wants us to do for him. It may be something that wouldcome afterwards, but it also may be something that we could do for himnow. Of course you must judge, but this is the way I feel about it."

  Jack, who had put on a deep violet toned velvet dressing gown over herunderclothes, now sat down in an arm chair, leaning thoughtfully forwardand resting her chin in the palm of her hand.

  She did not intend to influence her husband; but having expressed herown thought, she quietly awaited his decision.

  Frank, however, was worried and undecided. In order to think moreclearly, he got up and began walking nervously up and down his room.

  "I don't know what to do, Jack," he argued. "If Bryan still lives hemay, of course, recover and I would not then like to feel that I havepryed into his secret. On the other hand, you may be right and Bryan mayhave made some simple request of us which we could carry out for him atonce. Bryan is a sentimental chap always. I wish, this time, he had beenmore explicit."

  Nevertheless, Frank must have finally decided to accept his wife's pointof view for, after another few moments, he walked over to a small safewhich occupied a corner in his room and opened it. Then he took out thebox in which he had placed Captain MacDonnell's letter and the nextinstant had broken the seal and was reading its contents.

  Jack sat watching her husband's face, but offered no interruption.

  She saw Frank first look surprised and then saw him flush and at lasthis expression hardened curiously. He then presented her with theletter.

  "Read this, Jack. It is just as well that you should know what is in it.Bryan must have been considerably upset over his farewells and thethought of what might lie ahead of him, or he would never have made sucha request of us. He must have realized afterwards that the thing isimpossible."

  Jack read the letter, but there was nothing in it which seemed strange;certainly nothing impossible to her point of view. Bryan had simplyrequested that Frank allow her to come to him in case he was seriouslyinjured. Bryan explained simply and boyishly that he had no women in hisown family and that she was his closest woman friend. He had an absurdhorror of dying with no woman near for whom he cared, or who cared forhim.

  "I don't see what you find impossible, Frank," Jack answered, placingthe letter inside the envelope and quickly returning it. "I was onlywaiting until we heard more news to ask you to let me go to Bryan, evenif he had not made this request of us."

  Frank appeared distressed, but shook his head resolutely.

  "I don't want to seem unkind, dear. In a way it is pretty
hard to refusewhat Bryan asks. Only he could not have appreciated just how much he wasasking."

  Jack brushed her hair back from her forehead with a puzzled gesture.

  "I don't understand what you mean, Frank. Certainly neither of us candream of not agreeing. I know you will worry over the discomfort,perhaps even the danger of the trip to France for me. But hundreds ofwomen have gone and are going every day to care for the soldiers who areentire strangers to them. Many times I have wanted to go myself beforethis, except for leaving you and my babies behind. But now I may onlyneed to stay a little time."

  "We won't discuss the matter any further please, Jack," Frank protested,speaking gently, but with a decision which Jack recognized as having aserious intention back of it.

  Instantly she went to him and put her hands on his shoulders, lookingdirectly into his blue eyes with her clear, wide grey ones.

  "Tell me your reason please, Frank. This isn't like you. You can't meanto be so selfish--even so cruel."

  Frank's eyes held his wife's, but he showed no sign, either of flinchingor yielding.

  "I am sorry to have to say this to you, dear. I wish you could have beenwilling to do what I asked, without demanding my reason. But I can't letmy wife go to Bryan; I can't let people think you and he care this muchfor each other. People would talk--there would be gossip. I am yourhusband and it is my place to safeguard you. You and Bryan never thinkof consequences--you are only impetuous children."

  "So you mean--" Jack let her hands drop slowly from her husband'sshoulders to her own sides, "you mean, that because of a little idlechatter--foolish, unkind gossip--oh, I know some of the neighbors havealready talked of Bryan and me before this--you would keep me from thefriend we both care so much for, at a time like this? I can't believe itof you, Frank."

  "Then I am sorry to disappoint you, because I do mean it, Jack, dear. Isuppose it does seem narrow and worldly to you, with your wider ideas offreedom and loyalty. But hard as this may be for us both, you must abideby my decision."

  For another moment Jack remained silent, her face flooding first withcolor and then the color receding until she was curiously pale, so thatthe darkness of her lashes showed shadows on her white cheeks.

  "I am sorry, Frank," she answered quietly, "but in this matter I can notaccept your decision. I am a woman--not a child--and this is a matterfor my conscience as well as yours. Even if I am wrong, whateverconsequences I must suffer from your failing ever to see this as I do, Imust go to Bryan if he is still alive."

  Then Jack went quickly into her own room again.