Horses and rifles had been her toys, camp and trail her nursery.

From what she had told him, her seminary days had been an exile, devoted to study and to ceaseless longing for the wild riding and swimming of Hawaii.

A boy's training, and a boy's point of view! That explained her chafe at petticoats, her revolt at what was only decently conventional.

Some day she would grow up, but as yet she was only in the process.
Well, there was only one thing for him to do.

He must meet her on her own basis of boyhood, and not make the mistake of treating her as a woman.