Waterbury evening Democrat., 1907-11-08
PenefOpe'S
 Problem. By Constance D'Arcy Mackay.
Copyrighted, 1907, by c. H. Sutcliffe.

| July. The sun DlaZed down on thu
 noisy, unshaded street where Penelope
 Compton lived, and the air was rift
 with the smell of heat parched bricl
 and pavement. Penelope's sister
 Ruth, pale, gaunt young girl, spoke
 from the sofa, where she lay proppet
 up with pillows.
 Don't you think there's any way
 Penelope"
 None so far, dear," said Penelope
 cheerfully. But one never knows
 what may turn up."
 For at least month Penelope haG
 been hunting a place in the country
 that should shelter her widowed moth
 CT, her sister and herself and be with
 in the compass of her slender purse
 With two invalids boarding was out
 of the question, and a summer cot
 tage, no matter how small, had so fal l been beyond the means of Penelope
 the breadwinner of the family. a
 frail but determined girl, the idol of the crowded city schoolroom in which she taught. Day after day since school closed she had answered ad
 vertisements, only to be disappointed
 And it was imperative that the two invalids should have country air Ruth
 grew paler week by week, and Mrs.
 Compton-but Penelope never dared n al hn oil the courage at her command. On this particular afternoon the pathetic pa tience of Ruth's question nerved Pencil ope to further effort. Something must be found! It was a matter of life and death!
 Rising suddenly from her seat by the window. Penelope caught up her hat that lay on a chair near by and began to pin it on with swift, nerv- ous gestures.
 Are you going to try again" said Ruth, the quickening of hope in her voice.
 T am going to take a street car-any car-and go out to the end of the line and then ask from door to door till I find what I want" said Penelope ve- hemently. Do you feel strong enough, dear, to be left alone with mother?"
 "Oh, yes" responded Ruth, brighten ing, as she always did at the expecta- tion that their Fl Dorado might yet be reached.
 Penelope stumbled blindly upon the first car that came. Beneath her brave exterior she was weary and sick at heart, but the keen rush of the air past her as the car left the crowded streets and took a downward grade in a more sparsely populated district was tonic and refreshing. She began to feel less tired, less hopeless. The car whizzed on through suburbs with trim, fenced in houses and green fields that stretch ed away in pleasant unduations. The leaves of the trees rusted, silver green in the afternoon light. When the end of the line was reached Penelope got out, her spirits rising. Surely among the cottages dotted here and there would be one that answered her re- quirements. But Penelope soon discov- cred that they were all rented. It was a thriving community, and there were no vacancies. Tears welled in Pencil opes eyes, and she was forced to stop and wipe away the brimming drops. 'I must find something" she said al- most savagely. T must! I willw
 A shady road opened before her. She had not dreamed that so truly rural scene could be within easy dis tance of the city. Films grew on either hand; bird song floated down to her, drowsy with the heat; wild roses sent up a sweet briery perfume from the roadside. Cottages became fewer and fewer. Finally there were none at all. It became very still. Now and then a twig dropped or q tree toad chirred. The peace of it was balm to Penelope's tired nerves. She delighted in the flick ering. leafy shadows, the warm es- sences of the earth. She paused to lean on fence rails and look at bits of views framed by swaying branches. She fingered to gaze at the ruins of what had once been a fine brick man. sion and which now stood fire charred and desolate. A little way farther or Penelope came upon the barn belong. ing to 1t. It was a large. spacious structure. it's red paint storm worn and peeling. its weathercock still twirl- ing merrily as if in defiance to sun and rain.
 Moved by an impulse she could scarcely define. Penelope tiptoed up to 1t and looked in it's window. The inte- rior was clean and airy. A few wisps of straw showed at the edge of the now: the stalls were dimly hospitable But 1t was the great width down the center of the barn that made Penelope thrill with sudden resolve. If only her idea were feasible! She wrenched at the door It was bolted and did not yield. She looked fin the window again and then, fired with the rapture of her find. went back along the road whence she had first come. her feet seeming hardly to touch the earth By diiigent inquiry among the cottage colony she learned that the barn belonged 10 peo- ple by the name Of Mason, but they had been abroad for years. and a Mir. Frederick Carey was in charge of the property. Back 10 the city went Pe- neIope. hunted up a directory and aft erward Mr. Carey. To him she breath Iessly broachet her plan Would he rent her the barn for the season?
 Mir. Carey's lips tvitched. Penelope was 30 pretty. 50 desperately in ear nest Then as her words tumbled over zach other Ia her ezgerness he caught