She dragged Helen off for wild flowers, curious and thoughtless by turns.

And at length she fell asleep, quickly, in a way that reminded Helen of the childhood now gone forever.
Dale called them to dinner about four o'clock, as the sun was reddening the western rampart of the park.

Helen wondered where the day had gone.
The hours had flown swiftly, serenely, bringing her scarcely a thought of her uncle or dread of her forced detention there or possible discovery by those outlaws supposed to be hunting for her.

After she realized the passing of those hours she had an intangible and indescribable feeling of what Dale had meant about dreaming the hours away.

The nature of Paradise Park was inimical to the kind of thought that had habitually been hers.