But Baird was not thinking of business when he rode away from Westmore that night. For the first time he was thinking really seriously of a woman. Until he met Judith Westmore, women had been merely incidents to him, and to-night he had been brought face to face with marriage, the thing he had not intended to consider for years to come. He and Judith had seen each other frequently during the last weeks. They had ridden together, spent long evenings together, been bidden together to all the Ridge gatherings. And yet, throughout, Judith had maintained a certain distance, attracting him, and yet restraining him. He had struggled against her dominance, as he would always struggle to conquer anything that eluded him. Judith had hovered just beyond his reach, and he had been forced into an impassioned deference, been held to it so determinedly that his capturing instinct had been fully aroused. The eight years' difference in their ages had vanished from his consideration. Was she playing with him, or was she not? What he wanted was a more satisfying response to his love. For Baird had decided that for the first time in his life he was in love. For the first time a woman had interested him completely, stirred all that was decentest in him, held him to deference while she showed herself supremely attractive. When he had come upon Ann that afternoon, he had been wondering what Judith would say or do if he should suddenly lift her from her horse and kiss her; tell her that he loved her? How much would he learn of the real Judith? He had been on the very verge of some such avowal when he had looked up and seen Ann. Their little episode had long since been relegated to the background which was studded by such careless incidents; he felt no particular self-consciousness at the sight of Ann, but it did strike him as unnecessarily cruel of Judith to cut the girl. Ann was so appealingly pretty as she stood there, wide-eyed and startled, then so lovely when radiated by her eager smile. "Damn their stupid family quarrel!" had been Baird's inward comment. The thing had chilled him, and they had ridden in silence until Judith asked brightly, "Who is that pretty girl we just passed? She gave you a brilliant smile, Mr. Baird." Baird had been surprised into saying, "Ann Penniman--but it was you she was speaking to--she gave me only the tail of her eye," and his annoyance at Judith made him add, "I think she is the prettiest girl I've met on the Ridge." "Ann Penniman? Why, I don't know her--I never spoke to a Penniman in my life," Judith had returned with a faintly questioning, half-amused, half-regretful note. "If she is the little girl who belongs to the farm beyond the woods there, she has grown up quickly. I'm sorry if I was really included in that smile and didn't realize it."