"
He wrapped her up closer; and Mollie, with a delicious sense of safety,
and comfort, and sleepiness, cuddled close in her wraps and felt
luxuriously happy.
She had slept very little of late. Tears had been her nightly portion,
instead of slumber. Now she was happy and at rest; and the very rush of
the swift wind, as they bowled along, made her drowsy. She leaned her
head against his arm and fell fast asleep.
CHAPTER XXIII.
PRIVATE THEATRICALS.
It was broad day when Mollie awoke, the sun shining brilliantly. She
started up on her elbow, bewildered, and gazed around.
She was lying on a lounge in a strange room, and Mrs. Susan Sharpe was
seated in an elbow-chair before her, nodding drowsily. At Mollie's
exclamation she opened her eyes.
"Where are we?" asked the young lady, still bewildered.
"In Mr. Ingelow's studio," responded Mrs. Susan Sharpe.
"Oh, Broadway! Then we are safe in New York?"
The uproar in the great thoroughfare below answered her effectually.
She rose up and walked to one of the windows. Life was all astir on the
noisy pave.
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