Much weeping had dulled the luster of those sparkling eyes and paled the
bright bloom of the once rounded cheeks.
The Christmas snows were not whiter nor colder than the girl who sat
there and stared in blank despair at the wide sea.
"I beg your pardon, miss," said Mrs. Susan Sharpe, halting in the
door-way; "I want to come in."
At the sound of the strange voice, the prisoner wheeled suddenly around
and confronted her.
"Come in, then," she said: and Mrs. Sharpe came slowly in and closed the
door. "Who are you?" Mollie asked, transfixing her with her steadfast
gaze. "I never saw you before."
"No, miss; I only came from New York to-day."
"Who are you?"
"I'm Susan Sharpe."
"And what are you doing here?"
"I'm to be your nurse, miss. Doctor Oleander hired me and brought me
down."
"Doctor Oleander is a villain, and you are, I suspect, his tool."
"I'm sorry you think so, miss," Mrs. Susan Sharpe said, composedly. "Is
there anything I can do for you?"
But Mollie did not reply. She was staring at her new attendant with all
her might.
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