“We cannot tell you how we feel, inside, Walter,” Nan said softly. “Nothing we can ever do for you will repay you——”
“Oh, don’t!” begged the boy.
“You’ve got to hear your praises sung!” cried Bess, laughing and sobbing at once. “I shall write home to my folks about it. And we shall tell all the girls.”
“I wish you wouldn’t!” gasped the embarrassed youth.
“And your sister will never miss Linda Riggs’ friendship,” said Nan, stoutly. “We’ll see that Linda does not bother her, either.”
“Oh! you’re so brave, Nan,” murmured the timid Grace.
“It doesn’t take much courage to face a girl like Linda,” Nan retorted. “I’ve seen already that she has very few real friends in the school, and those she has to pay high to keep. I would rather have her for an enemy than a friend.”
Nan and Bess kissed Grace and shook hands with her brother. The chums were both as wet as they could be, and the evening air felt chill.
“We’d better get our sweaters,” Nan said.
“Oh! they’re in the dressing room of the boathouse,” objected Bess.