What mysterious magic lay in the telegraph! Ever since their first meeting he had awakened in her a sort of breathless excitement, the precise significance of which she could not fathom, and that excitement now was growing hourly.

It could not mean love--"Bob" flushed at the thought, for she had no intention of falling in love with anybody.

She was too young; the world was too new and too exciting for that, and, besides, her life was too full, her obligations were too many to permit of distractions, agreeable or disagreeable.
Nor, for that matter, was Gray the sort of man to become seriously interested in a simple person like her; he was complex, many-sided, cosmopolitan.

His extravagant attentions were meaningless--And yet, one could never tell; men were queer creatures; perhaps-- Little prickles ran over "Bob"; she felt her whole body galvanize when she saw Gray coming.
He entered, as she knew he would enter, with the suggestion of having been blown thither upon the breast of a gale.

He was electric; he throbbed with energy; he was bursting with enthusiasm, and his delight at seeing her was boyish.
"Bob" colored rosily at his instant and extravagant appreciation of her effort to look more pleasing than usual, but embarrassment followed her first thrill.