She threw herself on a sofa in her pretty bedroom, and tried to beguile the forlorn hours with the latest novel, in vain.

She yawned horribly over the pages and flung it from her in disgust.
She wandered down to the drawing-room and tried the grand piano, whose tones were as the music of the spheres.

Still in vain.

The listless fingers fell aimlessly on the ivory keys.
She strove to sleep, but the nervous restlessness that possessed her only drove her to the verge of feverish madness in the effort.

The girl was possessed of a waking nightmare not to be shaken off.
"What is it ?" cried Mollie, impatiently, to herself.