The Ranch Girls in Europe. Vandercook Margaret

must let me try to serve you."

      In their overwhelming anxiety Ruth, Olive and Jack had continued on the way to their staterooms, leaving Jean to answer for all of them. Now, to her chagrin, the tears began overflowing her eyes like a frightened baby's.

      And only a few moments before had she not secretly hoped to make a favorable impression upon this most interesting of their fellow voyagers?

      Jean had believed that she was looking unusually well herself. For her blue silk dress with its touches of red embroidery, her blue chinchilla coat with its scarlet lining and her hat with the single red wing in it had been considered the most effective of the Ranch party's going-away costumes.

      So why should she be making herself so ridiculous before a total stranger?

      Jean did not realize that the emotion of parting with her friends and of leaving her own country had been greater than she cared to admit even to herself. Then this sudden overwhelming worry about Frieda had left her nerves completely unstrung.

      Therefore she was extremely grateful when the older woman led her to a more secluded part of the promenade deck. New York was now out of sight, and most of the passengers were hurrying off to their rooms. Jean and her companion were almost entirely alone.

      "We – we have lost our little sister," the young girl began incoherently. "Or at least we have been unable to find her and do not feel altogether sure that she came aboard with the rest of us. Oh, I realize that this must sound absurd and impossible to you. It does to all of us. But what can have become of her?"

      With a slight but imperious nod of her head, which, even in her excitement, Jean did not fail to observe, her new acquaintance summoned her courier. And although she spoke to him in Italian the girl was able to understand. The man was told to await their return. Then if ordered he was to see that the ship was thoroughly searched for a missing passenger without unnecessary notoriety.

      A little later the young woman moved away with Jean. "Your sister is probably in her own stateroom by this time. However, if she is not and is on the ship we shall find her in a few moments." Her tone was that of absolute authority, as though the great vessel were her private yacht. Jean wondered how any woman not more than twenty-eight could give such an impression of poise and experience.

      Notwithstanding Frieda had not yet been discovered in any one of the staterooms. She had been expected to occupy a room with Jean. Olive and Jack were to be together and Ruth to sleep alone. However, in Ruth's stateroom, which the girls had chosen as being specially attractive, Jean and her new friend found Jacqueline Ralston waiting alone.

      "I have promised to remain here while Miss Drew and Olive have gone to speak to the proper authorities," Jack explained, with the curious self-control which she was almost always able to summon under special strain. "We hope my sister has simply mistaken her stateroom and may come to us at any moment. But if you will be so kind as to have your man assist us in our search, why we shall be deeply grateful. You see, we are rather too frightened to be sensible, besides being inexperienced travelers. And Frieda is so much the younger!" Here, with a break in her self-command, Jack dropped unexpectedly into the nearest chair. She had forgotten even to ask their visitor to be seated, nor did she have the faintest idea of her name, nor the reason for her interest in their predicament.

      An hour later and the Martha Washington had been thoroughly and quietly searched for the missing Frieda Ralston. Yet there appeared to be absolutely no trace of her. Of course her baggage had been brought aboard the ship with the other girls'. Even her silver toilet bag, Jim's parting gift, was safely stored in her stateroom. Frieda had been last seen ashore with nothing in her hands except a small gold link purse.

      Finally when the news reached the Ranch party that Frieda was positively not to be found on the steamer, for the first time in her career Ruth Drew collapsed.

      Not that she was more wretched than the girls over Frieda's disappearance, but because of her greater sense of responsibility. For almost a year, ever since their return from boarding school to the Rainbow Ranch, Ruth had been separated from the Ranch girls and living quietly in her old home in Vermont. In that time she had never heard from Jim Colter nor of him, except what the girls had written in their letters. Their meeting in New York had been entirely formal and without a word of private conversation. Yet now it was the thought of Jim's sorrow and indignation, should anything have happened to his baby, Frieda, that Ruth found the hardest thing she had to bear. For had she not once acted as Jim Colter's upright judge? What now must be his judgment of her?

      Several hours of this interminable afternoon were spent by Jack and Olive waiting in the ship's office for answers to their Marconigrams. But, when the answers finally did arrive, the news was only discouraging: "Frieda had not been seen by either Jim or Ralph or by any one of their acquaintances since the sailing of the Martha Washington."

      Yet, notwithstanding the many hours of searching and distress, Jean's new friend had never deserted them. She had not even gone to her own room to remove her coat and hat. Indeed, her whole time had been spent in encouraging Ruth, in making suggestions to the three girls, and in having her maid and man do whatever was necessary toward assisting them. Still no one of the Ranch party even knew her name.

      Twilight had come and the lights were shining brilliantly everywhere over the big ship. A fog horn had sounded and suddenly Jean felt that she could bear the suspense no longer. She must break down, yet no one of the others must see or hear her. Slipping out into a dark passageway, she hid herself and cried for half an hour. Then making up her mind that since nothing more could be done toward finding Frieda, she might at least devote herself to comforting Ruth, she walked quietly back into Ruth's stateroom. There she found their new friend just in the act of leaving.

      "You will be better by yourselves for a little while," she was saying, holding Jack's hand in one of her own and Olive's in the other, while looking sympathetically at Ruth. "My man will see that dinner is served in your room, and by and by I will come again to say good-night. You must not lose courage. The American girl never loses courage or ceases to fight while there is still work to be done."

      Having for the moment forgotten herself and her own sorrow, Jean became more aware of their new acquaintance's unusual sympathy and kindness.

      "You have been wonderfully good to us," she began chokingly, "and perhaps at some time we may be able to show you our great appreciation. But tonight, tonight – " and Jean could get no further. Then, summoning more strength of character, she continued, "I wonder if you would mind telling us your name? You must already know most of our history, as we have talked so much of ourselves in speaking of Frieda."

      For a moment Jean's friend appeared to be hesitating. Perhaps she did not wish to talk of herself, for she was now looking as weary as Ruth and the Ranch girls.

      "You must not think I am not a fellow countrywoman when I tell you my name," she replied slowly, and with the slightly foreign accent which the girls had neglected to notice in their distress. "I was once a western girl myself, oh, many years ago, in a little mining town. So I was able to recognize you as soon as I saw and heard you talking. Now I am an Italian, however, or at least my husband is. My name is Beatrice, the Princess Beatrice Colonna."

      Jean actually gasped out loud. Here she had been talking to a real live Princess without knowing it, when in her most romantic moments she had only conceived of a literary one.

      If they had not been in such great trouble over Frieda, how thrilling this meeting would have seemed! Yet, except for their sorrow, they might never have spoken to the Princess. And now here she was standing right in their midst talking just like any one else!

      A moment later and she had vanished with these parting words:

      "Promise me not to be too unhappy while I am gone. And perhaps when I return we may have devised some better scheme for finding your little Frieda."

      CHAPTER II

      SALVE!

      FOR several moments after the Princess' withdrawal no one moved or spoke in Ruth Drew's stateroom. Ruth was lying on her berth, almost in a state of prostration, with Jean kneeling on the floor by her, resting her head upon the same pillow. On the divan Olive and Jack sat close together, Olive trying her best to think of