"I shall bring you your dinner at noon, miss." said Sarah, moving toward
the door, and not heeding her. "If you want me before noon, please to
ring."

"Stop!" said Mollie. "And, oh, for goodness gracious sake, do tell me
where I am!"

She held up her hands imploringly--poor, caged little starling!

"I am sorry, miss," Sarah said, and her face showed it; "but
indeed--indeed I can't! I daren't! I've promised, and my master trusts
me. I can't break my word."

She was gone as she spoke, locking the door again, and Mollie got up
with a heavy sigh. She had taken off only her outer garments before
lying down; and after washing, and combing out her bright silken hair,
she resumed the glittering, bride-like finery of the evening before.
Poor Mollie looked at the silver-shining silk, the cobweb lace, the
gleaming, milky pearls, with a very rueful face.

"And I was to have been away on my bridal tour by this time," she
thought; "and poor Sir Roger is half mad before this, I know. Oh, dear!
it's very nice to read about young ladies being carried off in this way,
but the reading is much nicer than the reality. I shall die if they keep
me here four-and-twenty hours longer."

By way of preparing for death, Miss Dane promptly sat down to the table
and eat her breakfast with the hearty appetite of youth and good health.