“So, ma’am?” he replied, and in an instant Patty saw that he did not believe her statements, and that he was covertly laughing at them.
“Come away, Flo,” she said, sternly, and marched the now weeping girl into the station again.
“Listen, Flo,” said Patty, her face assuming a very grave look. “We are in an awful predicament. Perhaps more awful than we know ourselves. We are in Milan, there’s no doubt of that. That’s why we didn’t see any water or gondolas. Where father is I’ve no idea. Of course there was some mistake about the train. He may be gone on to Venice,—though I don’t see how he could have done that without us,—or he may be in some other city. At any rate, he’s quite as anxious about us as we can possibly be about ourselves. Now, I don’t know what’s going to happen to us, but I’m going to do the very best I can to prove that an American girl can take care of herself in an emergency. We won’t speak to that man out there again; he’s horrid, and he doesn’t believe what we say. The ticket office is closed. There’s no one reliable around but the drivers of those omnibuses. I shall appeal to them.”
“Why don’t you speak to some of the travellers?” asked Flo.
“Oh, you never can judge about them; and they’re mostly Italians anyway. Have you any money?”
“No; only a little change. Snippy carries the purse.”
“Well, I’ve not very much, but I think I’ve enough. Now, come with me. Stand by me, and don’t act one bit frightened. That’s all you can do to help,—so do it!”
When Patty was face to face with a serious emergency, it always made her curt of speech, and her stern manner made Flo recover herself at once, so that it was two very dignified-looking young women who approached the drivers who, whip in hand, stood lined up along the platform.
Although they sometimes seemed eager to attract passengers, none of them asked the girls to get into their vehicles, and Patty went along until she came to one whose face she liked.