Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1889-01-31
PENlNsULA's QUANDARY.
The Thrilling Life Romance Of Q Beau.
tiful New England Maiden.

From the Chicaeo Tribune
tNorE-This remarkable story-publshed
1t is hardly necessary to say, exclusively by the
| 7ribune-is from advance sheets Of Mr.. w-m
D-n His next novel As printed be-
| low it appears in somewhat condensed form.
but contains all that is noteworthy in plot in
cident and dialogue in the entire story.l
CHAPTER I.
A picturesquely commonplace, ordinary, une-
motional New England day.
The sun, having risen some three hours pre-
viously, was now about three hours high Its
rays, shining in through the second story back
parlor window of plain frame dwelling house
on quiet street in Dismalton, lit up a split
bottomed chair occupied by a tn in-haired young
woman evidently suffering from heartburn.
The window, it should be mentioned, was of
ordinary construction, being made Of pine sash
and 9x14 or possibly 10x14 glass. The putty
had dropped off in places and the fastening at
the top of the lower sash was partially broken
on, as II 1t had been hastily raised by inserting
an axe or soup lade at the bottom and prying
upward. This might have been done in a
moment OF forgetfulness by the authenticated
and contemplative domestic who was employed
at stipend of S3.5 per week to do the cook
ing and look after the house.
Tbs young woman who sat in the chair was
near-sighted and wore steel-rimmed glasses.
She was not handsome, but there was an ex-
preston about her sallow face, with its square
Jaw and aquiline nose, slightly Redeemed at the
tip, that sometimes caused persons who met
her to look at her a second time.
Mother" she said to an angular matron who
entered the apartment, Il am impressed with
the conviction-or perhaps should say am
at times dimly conscious of an impression-that
this life Of excitement is making me slightly
nervous"
And she put away the yarn stocking she was
darning and picked up a late New England
novel by Jenny Hames.
Peninsula" said her mother after pause,
during which she had been vaguely watching
the uneasy slumbers Of a detected cat that lay
imply on the rug before the fire, II think you
had better spend few months in Italy. What
shall we have for dinner?''
CHAPTER IL
Three weeks later. Rome. Vatican. Gaia
combs. Pigeons. Gloomy sunshine. Oppres-
sive feeling of ennui.
Mother" said Peninsula, as the two stood
IN front OF the Pamphilia-Doria palace, isn't
that aged horse terribly lame? All mel What
is life good for, wonder, anyhow
my daughter" replied the mother, with
dreary yawn, as she aimlessly looked at her
watch and remembered she had not wound it
since she left Dismalton; 1--WE will 60 to ye-
NICE"
CHAPTER Iii.
Gondolas. st. Marks. Pervading damp
ness, odors of garlic, and pensive memories Of
Venetian days. Continuation Of ennui.
"Mother, 1 yearn for my New England home,
Life here IS so intense, so aquatic, So"
II know it, my daughter. And the eggs are
too Oriental. want you should not become
too much excited. Remember how the story
OF Annie Qmllburn worked upon your sensi-
tive nature"
"Mother!' exclaimed Peninsula, in voice of
hopeless melancholy i've will return home"
CHAPTER ".
Dismalton. Another ordinary New England
day. The mother and daughter alighted from
the two-seated carryall, and had their trunks
carried into the house, paid the man and went
in. They had returned home. A few more
chunks Of putty had fallen from the second
thinner than formerly. Otherwise the place
was unchanged
what time is it, mother?''
81 think" said the mother, looking at the
sun, lit must be about IL o'clock. Or half
past" she added, relectively.
CHAPTER V.
The evening shades had fallen, but a faint
odor of boiled cabbage still pervaded the quiet
New England home. There was knock at the
front door. The bell, it should be explained,
was out Of repair.
The caller was shown into the parlor.
81 have called Peninsula. to- -
The young village doctor paused moment
to suppress an involuntary spasmodic action
that looked like yawn but may have been a
hiccough.
marry me-
"Fotheringay," she answered. looking at the
hickory-wood fire in the CRATE with painful in
gertrude, Il cannot say whether will or not"
TN