Captain Madden had told her that he loved her. He had confessed also that he was twice her age and poor. But could Jack forget these things and care for him notwithstanding?
One wonders how the man had come to appreciate Jacqueline Ralston's nature so thoroughly in the few weeks of their acquaintance? Did he know that this appeal would be the surest way to awaken her sympathies? Jack had always a passion for doing things for other people rather than having them do for her. If she loved Captain Madden, she would gladly share all her money with him. It was stupid of her, however, not to realize that no true man could have been willing to ask all the sacrifices of her. Jack's only present problem was: "Did she care enough?" Captain Madden was older and wiser and so much better and braver! Think of all the stories he had told them in which she felt sure he must have been a hero! Although never once had he so spoken of himself! Then, too, had he not saved her life? Jack had never forgotten that moment of danger at Gibraltar, however little her rescuer had made of his part in it.
Jack sat up suddenly. Captain Madden had consented that she have a week in which to make up her mind, but had asked that his suit be kept a secret. Now some one was evidently coming toward her and there must be nothing in her face or manner to betray her.
What a picture she made at this moment Jacqueline Ralston would never know! For nowhere could there be surroundings more beautiful nor a figure which seemed so unreal and yet so ideally lovely! Surely Diana had wandered to earth from the groves of high Olympus and was resting here, waiting for her nymphs. She was sitting on a three-cornered marble bench under a group of palms, with the moonlight flooding her white dress and sending forth tiny sparks of light from the crescent of brilliants in her hair.
In surprise she lifted her head to watch the stranger approaching her. She had thought at first that it might be Captain Madden with Ruth or one of the other girls. But the man was taller, younger, more slender and was alone. Who on earth could he be? Jack rose hurriedly and took a step forward. The man was holding out both hands with an oddly familiar gesture.
"Jack," he said slowly, "don't you know me? Aren't you glad to see me? I arrived in Rome only an hour ago and came directly here. I have spoken to Jean and Ruth and now have found you."
"Frank Kent!" Jack repeated, too surprised by the young man's unexpected appearance to show any other emotion. "You have changed, but in the daylight of course I should have recognized you. It was only that I should never have dreamed of your coming to Rome without letting us know. I asked you to wait to see us until we arrived in England."
She had given both her hands to her old friend and was trying not to have her manner appear cold. Yet she could feel rather than see that Frank's face was flooding with color, just as it had so easily in those old days of their first acquaintance at the Rainbow Ranch.
"That is a discouraging greeting after a two years' separation. I hoped you might feel more pleasure in seeing me," Frank suggested.
Jack and the young man had walked slowly forth from her retreat and were now within the glow of the yellow-shaded electric lights. Jack looked up into her companion's face. He was older and tonight seemed graver. Also he wore the expression of dignified displeasure, which Jack recalled so readily. She could almost remember this same look on his face the day she had run away to the round-up and so lost Olive and brought tremendous unhappiness upon herself and her family. Less than anybody in the world did Jacqueline Ralston desire to see Frank Kent during this particular week of her life. Yet she could not willingly hurt his feelings.