Richard Van Sant, surfeited with the artificialities of society, seeks refuge amid the silent dignity of mountain solitudes, bitter against all women, because one had dismissed him. Once in his mountain fastness, he begins to look about for the peace of mind that he seeks, and his field glasses furnish him society without bringing him in contact with humans. While he studies the scenery assiduously, one particular spot, haunted by blithesome Bessie Springer, a mountain lass, attracts his fancy day by day. He sees the culmination, at a long distance, of a charming romance, in which Tommy, her sweetheart, who has figured in frequent meetings, comes and claims her as his own. He sees her friends come and go, wondering and admiring the gifts that have come to her as a bride. Then she passes beyond the rangeless vision, on down the mountain, lost to view in the settlement beyond. This truly rural vision of sentimental simplicity, strangely, fascinates the man about town; he tears up the shocking pictures of the dancing-girls and “actresses” that ornament the walls of his shack, banishes his stock of red liquor and gives himself peacefully over to the spell of the primeval. In the interim, the haughty Virginia Maynard, who married a title when Richard had wounded her pride, becomes fairly ill through heartsickness and asks her fiancé, the count, to take her to the mountains. He does so, and the control of his automobile going wrong, the coward leaps out and leaves Virginia to wrestle with the mechanism of a runaway car. Van Sant, riding up the mountain, looking through his glass, observes this state of affairs, and rushes to the rescue. The machine crashes into the shrubbery and hangs suspended over a chasm when he reaches out, clasps the girl and draws her away from impending death. The count comes limping down the mountain at this moment, and when he sees Virginia, with her arms about Richard’s neck, he limps out of sight and leaves them forever happy.