thoughtful, sat down by the window. She reviewed the events of this
first day of her new life on the border. Her impressions had been so
many, so varied, that she wanted to distinguish them. First she felt
glad, with a sweet, warm thankfulness, that her father seemed so
happy, so encouraged by the outlook. Breaking old ties had been, she
knew, no child's play for him. She realized also that it had been done
solely because there had been nothing left to offer her in the old
home, and in a new one were hope and possibilities. Then she was
relieved at getting away from the attentions of a man whose
persistence had been most annoying to her. From thoughts of her
father, and the old life, she came to her new friends of the present.
She was so grateful for their kindness. She certainly would do all in
her power to win and keep their esteem.

Somewhat of a surprise was it to her, that she reserved for Jonathan
Zane the last and most prominent place in her meditations. She
suddenly asked herself how she regarded this fighting borderman. She
recalled her unbounded enthusiasm for the man as Colonel Zane had told
of him; then her first glimpse, and her surprise and admiration at the
lithe-limbed young giant; then incredulity, amusement, and respect
followed in swift order, after which an unaccountable coldness that
was almost resentment. Helen was forced to admit that she did not know
how to regard him, but surely he was a man, throughout every inch of
his superb frame, and one who took life seriously, with neither
thought nor time for the opposite sex. And this last brought a blush
to her cheek, for she distinctly remembered she had expected, if not
admiration, more than passing notice from this hero of the border.

Presently she took a little mirror from a table near where she sat.
Holding it to catch the fast-fading light, she studied her face