"I think we had best go back now, Frank, please. I am not in the least upset by my near tumble," the girl announced. "But you will not mention it to Ruth or Jim or any of the girls? It did not amount to anything, yet I don't want Ruth and Jim to have the slightest shade of anxiety to spoil their beautiful time of being engaged. Poor Jim was desperate at first at the thought of waiting almost six weeks before his marriage, but now the ceremony is so near I think he would not have given up this time for a great deal. You see, he and Ruth are only going to take a week's honeymoon journey, as your mother has been good enough to promise to look after us. And then we are all going back to the ranch together. This time poor Ruth will be dreadfully well chaperoned."
"Yes, I know, Jack, but please don't go just yet. There is something that—" Frank hesitated. Evidently, however, Jacqueline had not heard him, for she had gotten up as she finished speaking and was moving off.
The young people found the rest of their party about half a mile back, where they had chosen their picnic grounds in the neighborhood of a brook. Jim and Ruth were not with them, but Olive and Donald Harmon, Frieda and Dick Grant, Jean and the young Italian, Giovanni Colonna, Lord and Lady Kent and Frank's two sisters, Marcia and Dorothy, were sitting in a great circle and in the center was evidently a gypsy woman. Frank had met Dick Grant in London and thinking him a nice American boy had asked him down to Kent castle for the day. Giovanni Colonna had been his guest for a week.
Apparently the advent of the two newcomers had interrupted the flow of the fortune-teller's narrative, for she was standing perfectly silent with her big, rather impertinent black eyes fastened on Olive's face.
"Please send the gypsy away, Lady Kent," Olive begged. "She seems to be making up her mind to say something to me. And years ago I had such a dismal fortune told me by a gypsy who stopped at the Rainbow Lodge that I have never been able to forget it."
Frank was paying off the woman and telling her to be gone, so that he did not hear the next few moments' conversation.
"What did she tell you, Olive?" Frieda asked. "I remember we thought it queer at the time, but I have forgotten what it was."
Olive flushed. She had her old childish dislike of being the center of attention, and yet she had brought this upon herself.
"Oh, she told me that I was going to find out my parentage some day, and I have. Then she told me that I would inherit a large fortune." Olive glanced a little nervously at Donald Harmon, adding, "but of course that will never come true. And—and I can't remember much else. The story was told in a kind of jingle."
"Yes, and I recall it better than you do, Olive dear," Jack suddenly broke in. "The ridiculous woman suggested such abominable things about me. She said that without knowing it I was going to bring sorrow upon my best-beloved Olive. I don't know just in what way she meant it, but of course it was a ridiculous falsehood." And Jack flushed so hotly and spoke with such unnecessary intensity that her listeners laughed.