Was it right that she should thrill so delightfully whenever he came near her?
And was it entirely proper for her to feel that queer tingle of delight over the strangeness of it all?
And did that strangeness result from the fact that she had not seen him for years; or was there some truth in Dale's assertion that she was merely an adopted daughter, and her love for Sanderson not merely the love of a sister for a brother, but the love of a woman for a man?
Had Sanderson taken that view of it?
She thought he had; for she had told him about Dale's assertion, and his constraint had begun shortly after.
She did not blame him a great deal--after she had thought it over.

He had done the manly thing, she divined, in not taking advantage of the situation, and she believed she loved him more than ever because of his attitude.

But she felt that she had lost something, and the second day had gone before she succeeded in resigning herself to the new state of affairs.
Nothing happened.

Dale did not come near the ranchhouse.

Mary rode over to the Nyland ranch and had a long talk with Peggy, and Peggy told her that she had not seen Dale.
Ben Nyland had driven the Double A cattle over to their own range, and so far as he was concerned the incident with Dale was closed.