So they went “window-cracking,” like penniless children.
They lunched in style at the best hotel and lived many weeks together in one afternoon. She gave him time to get his notes together for the lecture, drove with him to the hall and sat in the middle of the audience, an enraptured vision to stir him to his best.
At the close of the lecture he hurried to her.
“I have a surprise for you,” he whispered; “you are not the only lady that takes long journeys to help out struggling lecturers. I want you to meet ‘The Lady of the Interruption.’”
Her glance fell. “I hate her,” she said.
“S-sh!” he smiled and turned to a gracious matronly woman of about fifty-five.
“Mrs. Fellows, here’s my little girl, Gorgas,” he said.
“No longer a little girl,” Mrs. Fellows extended a hand.
“You are the ‘Lady’?” Gorgas gasped.
“Yes,” the “Lady” responded pleasantly. “You thought I was young and attractive, and you are happy to find I am not.”