"Tell father—- I mean—he doesn't know how much I appreciate him, mammie. He's been a good father to me, always."
Goodness gracious me! What in the world? The child must be out of her mind!
"Martha!" said Emily, sharply, "what is the matter with you?"
"I'm sorry I've always been so—horrid to him."
"Now look here, Martha, let that drop! You mustn't be morbid about this. I'll explain everything to him for you, if you want me to."
"Yes, do, mammie."
"I'll take that child to a doctor to-morrow!" Emily resolved.
They parted abruptly when they rose from the table. Martha went out to get her few things. Emily went to the station for her reservations, curiously. And she dallied about. They were to have tea together at four-thirty. It was Emily's suggestion. Anything to get Martha to eat, she had thought.
She came back to the hotel carrying a large box of the most tempting chocolates she could find, and candied fruits, which Martha had been eager for. She didn't like the hotel she had chosen. The lobby, the whole floor, was full of groups of men, business men, perhaps, standing around importantly pretending to be discussing affairs of moment, and covertly eying every woman who entered. Well, thank goodness, she was no longer either young or conspicuous. But how they must look at Martha! She went to the desk and asked for her key.
Now the sleek-haired young man standing there, instead of handing it to her promptly, went and spoke to a more important young man somewhat older. This man heard what he said and looked curiously at Emily, while the second one approached her.