That she need fear him in the least she would not believe. Had she not
watched the look of utmost respect on his face as he stood quietly waiting
for her to awake the first morning they had met? Had he not had
opportunity again and again to show her dishonor by word or look? Yet he
had never been anything but gentle and courteous to her. She did not call
things by these names, but she felt the gentleman in him.

Besides, there was the lady. He had told about her at the beginning. He
evidently honored the lady. The woman had said that the lady would not
ride with him alone. Was it true? Would he not like to have the lady ride
alone with him when she was not his relative in any way? Then was there a
difference between his thought of the lady and of herself? Of course,
there was some; he loved the lady, but he should not think less honorably
of her than of any lady in the land.

She sat straight and proudly in her man's saddle, and tried to make him
feel that she was worthy of respect. She had tried to show him this when
she had shot the bird. Now she recognized that there was a fine something,
higher than shooting or prowess of any kind, which would command respect.
It was something she felt belonged to her, yet she was not sure she
commanded it. What did she lack, and how could she secure it?

He watched her quiet, thoughtful face, and the lady of his former troubled
thoughts was as utterly forgotten by him as if she had never existed. He
was unconsciously absorbed in the study of eye and lip and brow. His eyes
were growing accustomed to the form and feature of this girl beside him,
and he took pleasure in watching her.

They stopped for lunch in a coulee under a pretty cluster of cedar-trees a