Newark evening star and Newark advertiser. [volume] (Newark, N.J.) 1909-1916, 1913-12-20
Lady Fessenden
The Game Of Fighting che Conn
mOmplace Turns Romance Into
Reality
tCOpyrtEhd, 1918, by the Newspaper
Enterprtse AssOciatiOn.)
by GELETT BURGESS

tCopyriKha, 1913, by the Newspaper
Enterprise AssOciatiOn.)
AS Myra stood, her hands behind
her, her back TO the long wall, await
ing the confusion OF the rush hour,
the sordidness Of the restaurant
struck her anew. This pause, after
The butter pats were arranged, the
Dies Quartered and the sat cellars
aled, while she waited for the hur-
ried, fretful throng to pile her tray
with orders, gave her plenty OF
chance for disgust.
So, as she waited, she took up her
game and fought the commonplace.
II was a child's game, but through
this last, slow year of poverty. she
had developed IL with so much detail
and fancy that 1t had been some
thing of a resource against despair.
The flne-spun. fair brown mass OF
hair that tumbled about her low
brow. the wonderful gray eyes, the
absurd Little nose, the dewy, parted
lips and triangular chin made up the
" stful face of Myra Long. the
quickest and deftest of all the black
gowned Mattresses at Heppner' q
Quick Lunch, the only one whose
whimsical droll face did not attract
the hirtatious familiarity of the
holder customers. But it was not
Myra Long who now stood with her
back to the wall. She had gone
on in q day-dream.
It was Lady Fessenden, instead,
who, seeking divers on and sociolog-
cal material. bored with her estates
In Kent, her servants and her cir
ole of society, had taken up the abb
surd whim which brought her into
contact with the lower middle classes.
oil
who, after having taught school at
North Summit, had come to New
York to seek for place on the stage,
and who. sinking lower and lower In
her ambitions, had at last found a
pos ton where she would not, at
least. have to starve.
And so, in New York. In her little
hall bedroom on West Twenty fourth
street. she still bravely kent up the
game. There were many odd bits OF
pantomime that went on in front OF
her wabbly mirror that were impossi-
Die here In the restaurant. But even
at Heppner's Lady Fessenden was not
idle. She was watching for a cham
pion to rescue Myra from the dragon
OF the Prosaic. She had been cap
tured by the Commonplace 1t was
time FOR a rescue, and so, as she walt
ed, with her back to the long wall,
she scanned the crowd for her errant
knight
That he did come, as she hoped. to
ner very table al Heppner's, and that
she recognized h m at a glance, proved
Lady Fessenden to be of the bl 'od-
royal of Romance. He camein with an
old man. He came in, to be p ain,
upon the front page of the Morning
Despatch, In the form of q printed In
tervieW and a half-tone portra or
Hall Payson Prince, South Amer
lean explorer and acheologist The
paper was left on the table, and Lady
Fessenden pounced upon 1t and bore
It into the pantry.
With his light, dropping mustache,
mis- firm, straight mouth and his sun
wrinkled eyes, she felt as If she had
known him for years. She read the
interview av.dily. In two minutes she
mad his story by heart, and his por-
trait in the bag at her waist.
She went on duty at IL o'clock next
day. Az halfrpast 10 she entered a
public telephone booth and hesitat-
lngly called for Mr.. Princes number.
He answered himself-her beating
heart told her that at h first word.
Gasping for breath trembling with
sudden alarm at her impertinence, II
was all she could do to speak aloud
"Oh, Mr.. Prince she managed to
say, II do hope I'm not 'nterrupting
you-please tell me if / am. But ]
nave something I'd like very much to
say to you"
Whom have the pleasure of talk
ing tor" he asked. pleasantly.
well. II you must know. I'm Lady
Fessenden," was her hesitating an
swer.
Lady Fessenden? I'm afraid you
have the advantage of me-"