CHAPTER XXVIII
THE BURSTING OF THE CHRYSALIS
Frances Durham Rugley was growing up. At least, she felt a great manyyears older now than she did that day so short a time before when,riding along the trail, she had heard Pratt and the mountain lionfighting in Brother's Coulie.
She looked at her reflection in the long dressing-mirror in her ownroom, and could not see that she had added to her stature in this time"one jot or tittle." But inside she felt worlds older.
It was the afternoon of the dinner-party day. She had come upstairs tomake ready to receive her guests. The dinner was for seven and Franceshad given herself plenty of time to dress.
Pratt was off on his pony, "getting the stiffness out of himself," hedeclared. The old Captain was just as busy as a bee, and just as fussyas a clucking hen, about the last preparations for the party.
And meanwhile Frances was undecided. She almost wished she might runaway from the ordeal before her. To face all these people whom, afterall, she knew so slightly, and play hostess at her father's table, andbe criticised by them all, was an ordeal hard for the range girl toface.
She was not particularly shy; but she shrank from unkind remarks, andshe was sure of having at least one critic-extraordinary at thetable--Sue Latrop.
This was really Frances' "coming out party" but she didn't want to "comeout" at all!
"Oh! I wish they had never come here. I wish daddy had not asked them tothis dinner. Dear me!" groaned the girl of the ranges, "I almost wish Ihad never met Pratt at all."
For, looking into the future, she saw a long vista of range work andquiet living, with merely the minor incidents of ranch life to break themonotony. This "dip" into society would not even leave a pleasantremembrance, she was afraid.
And it might be years before she would be called upon to play hostess insuch a way as this again. She sighed and unbraided her hair. At thatmoment there sounded a knock upon her door.
She ran to open it to her father.
"Here you are, Frances," said the old ranchman, jovially. "Never mind ifLon hasn't got here yet; I've gone deeper into the treasure chest. Iwant you to be all dolled up to-night."
His hands were fairly ablaze--or looked to be. He had his great palmscupped, and that cup was full of gems in all sorts of ancientsettings--shooting sparks of all colors in the dimly lighted room.
"There's a handful of stuff to make you pretty," he said, proudly.
The ancient belt dangled over his arm. He placed all the things on herdressing-table, and stood off to admire their brilliancy. Francesswallowed a lump in her throat. How could she disappoint him! How couldshe try to tell him how unsuitable these gems were for a young girl inher teens! He would be heart-broken if she did not wear them.
"You are a dear, Daddy!" she murmured, and kissed him. "Now run away andlet me dress."
He tiptoed out, all a-smile. His wife's dressing-room had been a "holyof holies" to this simple-minded old man, and Frances reminded him everyday, more and more strongly, of the woman whom he had worshiped for afew happy years.
Frances did not hasten with her preparations, however. She sat down andspread the gewgaws out before her on the dresser. The belt, Spanishearrings of fabulous value and length, rings that almost blinded herwhen she held the stones in the sunlight, a great oval brooch,bracelets, and a necklace of matched stones that made her heart beatalmost to suffocation when she tried it on her brown throat.
She had it in her power to "knock their eyes out," as daddy (and TomGallup) had expressed it. She could bedeck herself like a queen. Sheknew that Sue Latrop worshiped the tangible signs of wealth, as sheunderstood them.
Cattle, and range lands, and horses, and a great, rambling house likethis at the Bar-T, impressed the girl from Boston very little. Butjewels would appeal to her empty head as nothing else could.
Frances knew this very well. She knew that she could overawe the Bostongirl with a display of these gems. And she would please her father, too,in loading her fingers and ears and neck and arms with the brilliants.
And then, before she got any farther in her dressing, or had decided inher troubled mind what really to do, there came another, and lighter,tapping on her door.
"Who's there?" asked Frances.
"It's only me, Frances," said Pratt.
"What do you want?" she asked, calmly, rising and approaching the door.
"Got something for you--if you want them," the young man said, in a lowvoice.
"What is it?" she queried.
"Open the door and see," and he laughed a little nervously.
Frances drew her gown closer about her throat, and turned the knob.Instantly a great bunch of fragrant little blossoms--the wild-flowers sohard to find on the plains and in the foothills--were thrust into herhands.
"Oh, _Pratt!_" shrieked the girl in delight.
She clasped the blossoms to her bosom; she buried her face in them.Pratt watched her with smiling lips, and wonderingly.
How pretty and girlish she was! The grown-up air that responsibilitieshad lent her fell away like a cloak. She was just a simple,enthusiastic, delighted girl, after all!
"Like them?" asked the young man, laconically.
"I _love_ them!" Frances declared.
Pratt was thinking how wonderful it was that a girl could seize a bigbunch of posies like that, and hug them, and press them to her face, andstill not crush the fragile things.
"Why," he thought, "I've had to handle them like eggs all the way here,to keep from spoiling them beyond repair. Aren't girls wonders?"
You see, Pratt Sanderson was beginning to be interested in the mysteriesof the opposite sex.
"Run away now, like a good boy," she said to him, as she had to herfather, and closed the door once more.
She ran to her bathroom and filled two vases with water and put theflower stems in, that they might drink and keep the blossoms fresh.
Then, with a lighter air and tread, she went about her dressing for theparty.
She put up her hair, deftly copying the fashion that Sue Latrop--thatmirror of Eastern fashion--affected. And the new mode became Francesvastly.
Her new dress--the one she had had made for the pageant--had alreadycome home from the city dressmaker who had her measurements. She spreadit upon the bed and got her skirts and other linen.
Half an hour later she was out of her bath and ready for the dressitself. It went on and fitted perfectly.
"I am sure anybody must admire this," she told herself. She was surethat none of the girls at the dinner and dance would be more fitlydressed than herself--if she stopped right here!
But now she returned to the dresser and looked at the blazing gems fromthe old Spanish chest. If only daddy did not want her to wear them!
A ring, one bracelet, possibly the brooch. She might wear those withoutshocking good taste. All were beautiful; but the heavy settings, thegreat belt of gold and emeralds, the necklace of sparklingbrilliants--all, all were too rich and too startling for a girl of herage, and well Frances knew it.
With sinking heart and trembling fingers she adorned herself with theheaviest weight of trouble she had ever borne.
A little later she descended the stairs, slowly, regally, bearing herhead erect, and looking like a little tragedy queen as she appeared inthe soft evening glow at the foot of the stairs.
Pratt's gasp of wonder and amazement made the old Captain turn to look.
Above her brow was a crescent of sparkling stones. The long, gracefulearrings lay lovingly upon the bared, velvet shoulders of the girl.
The bracelets clasped the firm flesh of her arms warmly. The collar ofgems sparkled at her throat. The brooch blazed upon her bosom. Andaround her slender waist was the great belt of gold.
She was a wonderful sight! Pratt was dazzled--amazed. The old ranchmanpoked him in the ribs.
"What do you think of _that_?" he demanded. "Went right down to thebottom of the chest to get all that stuff. Isn't she the whole show?"
An
d Frances had hard work to keep back the tears. She knew that wasexactly what she was--a show.
She could see the change slowly grow in Pratt's features. His wondershifted to disapproval. After the first shock he realized that theexhibition of the gems on such an occasion as this was in bad taste.
Why! she was like a jeweler's window! The gems were wonderfullybeautiful, it was true. But they would better be on velvet cushions andbehind glass to be properly appreciated.
"Do you like me, Daddy?" she asked, softly.
"My mercy, Frances! I scarcely know you," he admitted. "You certainlymake a great show."
"Are you satisfied?" she asked again.
"I--I'd ought to be," he breathed, solemnly. "You--you're a beauty!Isn't she, Pratt?"
"Save my blushes," Frances begged, but not lightly. "If I suit youexactly, Daddy, I shall appear at dinner this way."
"Sure! Show them to our guests. There's not another woman in thePanhandle can make such a show."
Frances, with a sharp pain at her heart, thought this was probably true.
"Wait, Daddy," she said. "Let me run back and make one little change.You wait there in the cool reception-room, and see how I look nexttime."
She could no longer bear the expression of Pratt's eyes. Turning, shegathered up her skirts and scuttled back to her room. Her cheeks wereafire. Her lips trembled. She had to fight back the tears.
One by one she removed the gaudy ornaments. She left the crescent in herwavy brown hair and the old-fashioned brooch at her breast. Everythingelse she stripped off and flung into a drawer, and locked it.
These two pieces of jewelry might be heirlooms that any young girl couldwear with taste at her "coming out" party.
She ran to the vases and took a great bunch of Pratt's flowers which shecarried in her gloved hand when she went down for the second time toshow herself to her father.
This time she tripped lightly. Her cheeks were becomingly flushed. Herbare throat, brown and firm, rose from the soft laces of her dress inits unadorned beauty. The very dress she wore seemed more simple andgirlish--but a thousand times more fitting for her wearing.
"Daddy!"
She burst into the dimly lighted room. He wheeled in his chair, removedthe pipe from his mouth, and stared at her again.
This time there was a new light in his eyes, as there was in hers. Hestood up and something caught him by the throat--or seemed to--and heswallowed hard.
"How do you like me now?" she whispered, stretching her arms out to him.
"My--my little girl!" murmured the old Captain, and his voice broke."Then--then you are not grown up, after all?"
"Nor do I want to be, for ever and ever so long yet, Daddy!" she cried,and ran to enfold him in her warm embrace.
"Humph!" said the old Captain, confidentially. "I was half afraid ofthat young person who was just down here, Frances. I can kiss you nowwithout mussing you all up, eh?"
Pratt had stolen out of the room through one of the windows to theveranda.
His heart was swelling and salt tears stung his eyes.
Like the old Captain, the youth had felt some awe of the richly-bedeckedyoung girl who had displayed to such advantage the stunning andwonderful old jewelry that had once adorned Spanish senoras or Aztecprincesses. Despite the fact that he disapproved of such a barbarousdisplay, Pratt had been impressed.
He had an inkling, too, as to Sue Latrop's attitude toward the rangegirl and believed that some unkind expression of the Boston girl'sfeelings had tempted Frances to show herself in barbaric guise at thedinner. Pratt could not have blamed the Western girl if she had "knockedtheir eyes out," to use Tom Gallup's expression, with an exhibition ofthe gorgeous jewels Captain Rugley had got out of the treasure chest.
Without much doubt the old ranchman would have been very proud of hisdaughter's beauty, set off by the glitter of the wonderful old gems. Itwas his nature to boast of his possessions, although his pride in themwas innocent enough. His wealth would never in this wide world makeCaptain Dan Rugley either purse-proud or arrogant!
The old man's sweetness of temper, kindliness of manner, andopen-handedness had been inherited by Frances. She was a true daughterof her father. But she was her mother's child, too. The well-bred,quiet, tactful lady whom the old Border fighter had married had left hermark upon the range girl. Frances possessed natural refinement and goodtaste. It was that which had caused her to go to her chamber after thedisplay of the jewels, and return for a second "review."
The appearance of the simply-dressed girl who had come downstairs thesecond time had so impressed Pratt Sanderson that he wished to get offhere on the porch by himself for a minute or two.
The first load of visitors was just driving up to the gate of thecompound.
He watched the girls from Amarillo, and Sue, and all the others descend,shake out their ruffles, and run up the steps.
"My!" sighed Pratt Sanderson in his soul. "Frances has got them all beatin every little way. That's as sure as sure!"
Frances of the Ranges; Or, The Old Ranchman's Treasure Page 28