“Did you ever in your life hear anything so funny as the way that man hollered—he fairly bellowed!” said Katharine.
“You do get into more scrapes, Pat,” commented Anne, “than anyone I ever met.”
“Don’t I?”
“Never mind,” said Jane soothingly, as they entered a confectionery store, “you mean well.”
“I think,” said Katharine, “that is about the worst thing one can say. ‘Oh, he means well.’ It seems like sort of damning with faint praise. Not that Jane meant it that way.”
Everybody laughed. Katharine was so unconscious of her inconsistency.
While they were waiting for their order, Patricia’s eyes, which were roving about the room in search of possible acquaintances, came to rest on the back of a tall figure two tables beyond theirs. As if compelled by her questioning gaze, the individual turned around, immediately jumped up, and crossed the room in two strides.
CHAPTER XVIII
A WEEK END
“Craig!” exclaimed Patricia, smiling up at the lanky youth. “Fancy seeing you here! And what are you doing?”
“Here on business,” was the brief response, as he shook Patricia’s hand enthusiastically.