A Novel. BY NELLIE BLY, AUTHOR OF “TEN DAYS IN A MAD HOUSE” AND “SIX MONTHS IN MEXICO.” NEW YORK: Copyright, 1889, by G. W. Dillingham, Publisher, Successor to G. W. Carleton & Co. MDCCCLXXXIX. All Rights Reserved. Trow’s Printing and Book Binding Co. , N. Y....

“And that is your final decision?” Dick Treadwell gazed sternly at Penelope Howard’s downcast face, and waited for a reply. Instead of answering, as good-mannered young women generally do, Penelope intently watched the tips of her russet shoes, as they appeared and disappeared beneath the edge of her gown, and remained silent. When she raised her head and met that look, so sad and yet so stern, the faintest shadow of a smile placed a pleasing wrinkle at the corners of her brown eyes. “Yes, that

Richard Treadwell was not mistaken. The golden-haired girl was dead. The fair young form was taken to the Morgue, and for some days the newspapers were filled with accounts of the mystery of Central Park, and everybody was discussing the strange case. And what could have been more mysterious? A young and exquisitely beautiful girl, clad in garments stylish and expensive, although quiet in tone, and such as women of refinement wear, found dead on a bench in Central Park by two young people, whose

Richard Treadwell was in despair. Days had passed since the burial of the unknown girl, and he was no nearer the solution of the mystery than he was on the morning of the discovery. He had not learned one new thing in the case, and what was infinitely worse, he had not the least idea how to set about the task. He had taken to wandering restlessly about the city racked with the wildest despondency. “Great Lord, if I only had an idea,” he thought, desperately, as he walked up Fifth Avenue. “If I o

Richard Treadwell sat moodily on a bench, half supporting the limp form of the girl he had just saved from death. He had caught her just as she threw up her hands with a pitiful, weak cry, ready to spring into the reservoir. “My dear young woman, don’t take on so,” he said, vexedly, as the girl leaned against his shoulder, and sobbed in a heart-broken, distracted manner. “You are safe now.” As if that could be consolation to a woman who was seeking death which sought her not. “Really, I am sorry

Tolman Bike was engaged in conversation with foreman Flint when Dido opened the door and entered. He lifted his head, and never noticing Dido, fixed a look of absolute horror on Maggie Williams’s tear-stained and swollen face, as he rose pale and trembling and gasped in a husky tone: “Why do you come to me?” Margaret gazed stupidly at him with her small, grey eyes, offering no reply. Dido, greatly astonished at Mr. Bike’s manner, stammered out that she represented the girls he employed, who had

In a small oyster-house near the Park they found something to eat, and Dick also found that he had saved the life of a remarkably pretty girl. At any other time Dick Treadwell would have scorned to eat dinner—and such a dinner—at such a place. This night he not only ate, but enjoyed it. He never noticed the uninviting appearance of the big, fat German waiter who had, when they first came in, leaned with both hands on the table and said briefly, and with a rising accent, “Beer?” He slapped his di

“Did you run against something?” asked Dido, as she felt Richard start. “It’s only me,” said a deep bass voice, which had such an honest and harmless ring, that Richard’s fear and nervousness dropped from him like a cloak. “It’s all right,” Dido responded cheerfully, as she stopped and knocked on a door. Dick knew it was a door from the sound, but he was unable to distinguish door from wall in the darkness. It was opened by some one inside. Dick saw the outlines of a girlish figure between himse

When next Richard went to Mulberry Street, it was to notify Dido Morgan of a position he had secured for her with a prominent photographer. Her duties would be light and not unpleasant, as she was merely required to take charge of the reception room. Dido was delighted; nothing could have suited her better. Before her father died, she had devoted a great deal of time and study to sketching, and now this work seemed as though it might lead her nearer to her old life. While Richard was talking to

Richard Treadwell sent a description of Maggie Williams’ missing sister to the police authorities, and also inserted a cautious but alluring personal in all the leading newspapers; still the missing Lucille did not return, and nothing was heard of her. “My God, what it is to be poor!” Richard mused one morning as he walked up Broadway. “Why, the glimpses I get during my visits to Mulberry Street, of the trials and privations the poor endure, makes me heartsick. There’s Gilbert, blind and helples

One evening Mr. Richard Treadwell found the following letter awaiting him when he went to his rooms to dress for dinner. “Washington, June Third , 18—. “Dear Dick: “I am glad to say our prolonged visit has drawn to a close, and to-morrow we return to dear old New York and—Dick. I wonder how much we have been missed. You cannot imagine how anxious I am to see you. I feel sure that you are ready to tell me all about the poor dead girl. “You can’t imagine how I feel about her. Auntie says I am morb

But Tolman Bike was not easily found. Richard Treadwell got up early and went to the box factory, only to be told that Mr. Bike, suffering from ill-health, had gone out of the city for a time. The people in charge of the shop either feigned ignorance or did not know when he was to return, but Dick knew, in view of Mr. Bike’s approaching marriage, on the evening of the 7th, that he could not be absent from the city more than two days at the very most. But one thing he determined on. He would see

At the sight of Penelope Richard was dumbfounded. He stifled a first impulse to spring to his feet and greet her when he saw her stern, white and reproachful face, and sitting still tried slyly to drop Dido’s hand. With an almost imperceptible bow of recognition, Penelope went on after her aunt and a gentleman who, unnoticed, had in advance passed Dick and his companion. “D—— it!” said Dick, warmly, in an undertone, and then he thought: “I’m in for it now. Penelope will never believe that thinki

“Why!” as if unpleasantly surprised at his visit, “how do you do?” Such was Penelope Howard’s greeting to Richard Treadwell the morning following the meeting in the Eden Musée. He could not stay away from her, so he decided to try to explain all about Dido. He wished now he had not been so anxious to keep the affair a secret until Penelope’s return. It made things look all the blacker for him. Penelope was a clever girl. She was bitterly hurt, but she had no intention of quarreling with Dick. If

As Richard was early, he stopped for a moment to see Dido Morgan, and finding her ready to start home, asked her to walk a little way with him down Fifth Avenue. She was looking quite wan when he went in, but she brightened up and flushed with pleasure at the prospect of seeing him for a little time. “I had an offer from a manager to-day to go on the stage,” she said, quietly. “I hope you did not accept it,” Dick replied, quickly, looking at the girl’s downcast face, which seemed strangely alter

It was ten o’clock when Richard Treadwell in gown and slippers, sat down in a high-backed chair to partake of a light breakfast. The dainty table was spread with its burden of light rolls and yellow butter, with a bit of ice on it, and crisp, red berries. The odor of the coffee was very appetizing, but Richard ate and read the morning paper at the same time. The awnings lowered over the windows shut out the glare of the morning sun. A light breeze moved the curtains lazily, and a green palm on t

The mockery of the thing amused me. I knew so well how it was to end, and when Lucille came cheerfully to me, never thinking but that she would return to her home that night, I laughed aloud. She wanted to talk about my promise of marriage, and I readily consented. In very few words I gave her to understand that it was impossible for me to marry her in her present condition, but if she would be guided by my judgment, and bought suitable clothing, we could then go away and be quietly married. To

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