"It's better than being fed on bread and water, anyhow," she reflected,
as she finished; "but I should greatly prefer the bread and water, if
sweetened with freedom. What on earth shall I do with myself? If they
had only left me a book!"

But they hadn't, and the long, dull hours wore on--how long and how dull
only prisoners know. But noon came at last, and with it came Sarah,
carrying a second tray. Mollie was on the watch for the door to open.
She had some vague idea of making a rush for it, but there stood a
stalwart man on guard.

"Here is your dinner, Miss Dane. I hope you liked your breakfast."

But the sight of the sentinel without had made Mollie sulky, and she
turned her back upon the girl with silent contempt.

Sarah departed, and Mollie suffered her dinner to stand and grow cold.
She was too cross to eat, but by and by she awoke to the fact that she
was hungry.

"And then it will help to pass the time," thought the unhappy prisoner,
sitting down. "If I could eat all the time, I shouldn't so much mind."

After dinner she coiled herself up in one of the arm-chairs and fell
asleep. She slept long, and awoke refreshed, but what time it was she
could not judge; eternal gas-light and silence reigned in her prison.

"Oh, dear, dear! what will become of me if this sort of thing goes on?"
cried Mollie, aloud, starting up and wringing her hands. "I shall go
stark, staring mad! Oh, what crime did my father and mother ever commit,