“The meals at Horton Hall are the limit,” said Hazel, “as you’ll find to your sorrow, Patricia. We spend all our spare change, and some we can’t well spare, at the various tea rooms around College Hill.”
“What shall we have?” asked Anne, returning at that moment, followed by a waitress, and sitting down opposite Hazel. “This is on me, to celebrate Patricia’s coming.”
“Chicken patty, French pastry, and iced tea,” replied Hazel promptly.
“Waffles, maple syrup, and ice cream,” said Jane.
“How terrible! Think of your ‘figger,’ darling. You’ve put on about ten pounds this summer,” teased Hazel.
“I’ll take shrimp salad, Danish pastry, and pineapple sherbet,” said Patricia, when Anne looked at her.
“Chicken sandwiches, brownies, and ginger ale for me,” said Anne, completing the order. As the waitress disappeared, she leaned both elbows on the table and announced in low tones, “They’re not in the dining room, but Lu’s bag is in the hall.”
“Perhaps they’re out in the coffee room,” suggested Hazel. “I’ll go and see.”
“Don’t,” objected Jane quickly. “We don’t want them to think we’re spying on them.”
“Even if we are,” laughed Anne. “Maybe they’ll come out while we’re still here; and, in the meantime, let’s eat.”