“Yes.”
Anne closed her umbrella again, set her own bag in a corner, and loosened her jacket. “Might as well sit down, I suppose,” she commented, leading the way to a bench across the back of the shelter. “There won’t be another bus for an hour.”
“Oh, but you needn’t stay,” offered Patricia heroically. “I can wait alone.”
“Yes, if I’ll let you; but I won’t,” replied Anne, pushing back some little red curls which had escaped from under the brim of her smart green hat.
“It’s mighty good of you,” said Patricia gratefully; for she had hated to think of staying here all alone for a full hour.
“I never desert a friend in distress.”
“‘A friend in need,’” quoted Patricia.
“Speaking of friends,” interrupted Anne, “what became of the blond youth? I didn’t see him get off the bus; did you?”
“No, but he might have just the same. I was too excited over my bag to think of anything else.”
“He may have gone on to Mendon, but I doubt it. I’ve never seen him before, but he looked to me like a college fellow.”