n fact.

A bus was about to leave, so Tom clambered in.

Barbara Parker had to acknowledge that she was more than a little bit
thrilled at the prospect of seeing Calvin Gray again. She had assured
her father glibly enough that there was nothing "going on" that day,
but--there was. It was something to realize that a mere telegram from
her had brought a man of Mr. Gray's importance clear across the
country, and that he was coming straight to her. 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. She could not believe his compliments were entirely
genuine, therefore she took refuge behind her coolest, her most
businesslike demeanor. For a while they talked about nothing, although
to each the other was eloquent, then "Bob" came as quickly as might be
to the matter she had wired him about.

He listened with smiling lips and shining eyes, but he heard only the
bare essentials of her story, for his thoughts were galloping, his mind
was busy with new impressions of her, other voices than hers were in
his ears. That was his rose at her breast. She had been pleased at his
coming, otherwise she would not have paid him the girlish compliment of
wearing her best. Evidently she cared for him--or was she merely
impresse