She would have taken Belshazzar and gone out, but the Harvester had exacted a promise that she would not.

The fact was, he could see that she was coming gradually to a sane and natural view of life and living things, and he did not want some sound or creature to frighten her, and spoil what he had accomplished.

So she swayed in the swing and watched, and tried to interpret sights and sounds as he did.
Before an hour she realized that she was coming speedily into sympathy with the wild life around her; for, instead of shivering and shrinking at unaccustomed sounds, she was listening especially for them, and trying to arrive at a sane version.

Instead of the senseless roar of commerce, manufacture, and life of a city, she was beginning to appreciate sounds that varied and carried the Song of Life in unceasing measure and absorbing meaning, while she was more than thankful for the fresh, pure air, and the blessed, God-given light.

It seemed to the Girl that there was enough sunshine at Medicine Woods to furnish rays of gold for the whole world.
"Bel," she said to the dog standing beside her, "it's a shame to separate you from the Medicine Man and pen you here with me.