Deane was with Judge Colton, her father's old friend, to meet her at the station. The news of the Three Bar fight had preceded her and the press had given it to the world, including her part of it. As they rode toward the Colton home she told the Judge she had come to stay and Deane was content. After the strenuous days she had just passed through she needed a long period of rest, he reflected; but the older man smiled when he suggested this. "What she needs now is action," he said. "And no rest at all. If it was me I'd try to wear her down instead of resting her up--keep her busy from first to last. Cal Warren's girl isn't the sit-around type." Deane acted on this and no day passed without his having planned a part of it to help fill her time. Her interest in the new life was genuine and she was conscious of no active regret at parting from the old. It was so different as to seem part of another world. The people she met, their mode of life, their manner of speech; all were foreign to the customs of the range. And this very dissimilarity kept her interest alive until she grew to feel that she belonged. All through the fall and early winter she had scarcely an idle hour. Her days here were almost as fully occupied as they had been before. And in the late winter, after having visited other school friends who lived farther east, she found herself anticipating the return to the Colton home as eagerly as always in the past she had looked forward to seeing the Three Bar after a long period away from it. The grip of winter was receding and a few of the hardier trees were putting out buds when she returned. Every evening Deane was with her and together they planned the next, as once she and Harris had planned before her fireplace in the old ranch house. For the first time in her life she was glad to be sheltered and pampered as were other girls. Gliding servants anticipated her wishes and carried them out. But with it all there was a growing restlessness within her,--a vague dissatisfaction for which she could not account. She groped for an answer but the analysis could not be expressed or definitely cleared in her mind. She sat in the Colton library waiting for Deane to come and take her to a lakeside clubhouse for the evening. Tiny leaves showed on the trees and the lawn was a smooth velvet green. Slade's words of the long ago recurred to her. "A soft front lawn to range in," she quoted aloud. The reason for her restlessness came with the words.