“But it will help to pass away the time. I’m going to do it,” said Dorothy, firmly.
“Well—I may as well, too,” said Tavia, sighing.
There was a small table and two chairs. They opened the books and sat down to study. The noon luncheon hour came and went and nobody came near the prisoners. Of course, long before this, Tavia had made sure the door was locked.
“Not even bread and water,” groaned Tavia. “She means to starve us into subjection, Doro.”
“I wish Mrs. Pangborn would come home,” said Dorothy Dale.
“We’ll be living skeletons before then,” groaned her friend.
But when it grew dark Miss Olaine appeared at the door. She brought a tray upon which was a small pitcher of skimmed milk, and two slices of very dry bread.
“Your supper, young ladies—and quite good enough for you,” she declared. “Mrs. Pangborn will be at home on the midnight train. I have just received a telegram from her. You shall remain here until she arrives. Then I shall gladly wash my hands of you.”
“My goodness! she can wash her hands just as soon as she likes, for all of me,” exclaimed Tavia. “A slice of bread and milk! why, I could eat a house, I’m so starved!”