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Updated: June 6, 2025
Martell's white hair, while with his hat he worked, in pathetic earnestness, for the sake of his daughter; but in spite of all that he and the oarsman could do, the water gained on them, wetting their feet and creeping up their legs with the icy chili of death.
We might charge fifty cents for admittance, or, if you think that is too much, we might put the price down to twenty-five cents." "I think we had better charge fifty cents," said Elfreda shrewdly. "It will be as easy for those who come to pay fifty cents as to pay twenty-five. We might as well have the other quarter as Vinton's or Martell's."
It was passed from hand to hand, and resulted in four young women leaving Martell's without finishing their ice cream. "You spoiled their taste for ice cream, Mabel," laughed Frances Marlton, glancing at the now vacant table. "I imagine they are shaking in their shoes." "They did not think that the juniors had taken a hand in things," remarked Constance Fuller. "Hardly," laughed Helen Burton.
Miss Martell's powers of endurance were nearly exhausted; and when the lantern, held aloft, revealed Harcourt's pale face, when she knew that it was his arms that received her in her helplessness, and she heard him murmur, "I now believe there's a merciful God, and thank Him," in the strong reaction of feeling she became unconscious. Mr.
Again she saw Hemstead at Miss Martell's feet; but now, instead of being pale and unconscious, his face was flushed and eager, and he was pleading for that which the king cannot buy. She awoke sobbing, called herself a "little fool," and went to sleep again. But in the morning the dream lingered in her mind in a vague, uncomfortable way.
The coachman is down at the shore, and he'll tell ye all." Harcourt dashed through the snow and shrubbery, over rocks and down steeps that gave him one or two severe falls, that he might, the nearest way, reach Mr. Martell's boat-house.
Lottie, finding her services were not needed in Miss Martell's room, went down to the kitchen, where she found the half-frozen oarsman-now rigged out in the dress-coat and white vest of the colored waiter and the brave coachman who had put his old sea-craft to such good use. They were being royally cared for by the cook and laundress.
"I'll ask you to dinner at Martell's next week and won't desert you either. Wait a minute. I will go down to the dining room and see if by any chance she could be there. Then I'll come upstairs and let you know. If she isn't there you had better change your gown and go downstairs with me." "She isn't there," reported Grace, five minutes later. "Miss Taylor is, but her roommate is missing."
"I thought we might have Christmas dinner at Vinton's and Martell's, too. I've thought it all out. Both restaurants depend largely on the Overton girls' patronage. Naturally, they are very dull at Christmas time. My idea was to interview both proprietors and see if for once they wouldn't combine and furnish the same menu at the same price per plate, the price to be not more than fifty cents.
She never cared so much for Martell's." By this time they had seated themselves at the round table and begun to order their luncheon. Vinton's was productive of reminiscences, and they were soon deep in the discussion of past events, grave and gay, that had dotted their college life.
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