But all this came with the years. When Josie Fifer, white and weak,
first took charge of the H. & L. _lares et penates_, she told herself it
was only for a few months--a year or two at most. The end of sixteen
years found her still there.

When she came to New York, "Splendour" was just beginning its phenomenal
three years' run. The city was mad about the play. People came to see
it again and again--a sure sign of a long run. The Sarah Haddon second-act
costume was photographed, copied (unsuccessfully), talked about, until
it became as familiar as a uniform. That costume had much to do
with the play's success, though Sarah Haddon would never admit it.
"Splendour" was what is known as a period play. The famous dress was of
black velvet, made with a quaint, full-gathered skirt that made Haddon's
slim waist seem fairylike and exquisitely supple. The black velvet
bodice outlined the delicate swell of the bust. A rope of pearls
enhanced the whiteness of her throat. Her hair, done in old-time
scallops about her forehead, was a gleaming marvel of simplicity, and
the despair of every woman who tried to copy it. The part was that of an
Italian opera singer. The play pulsated with romance and love, glamour
and tragedy. Sarah Haddon, in her flowing black velvet robe and her
pearls and her pallor, was an exotic, throbbing, exquisite realisation
of what every woman in the audience dreamed of being and every man
dreamed of loving.

Josie Fifer saw the play for the first time from a balcony seat given
her by Sid Hahn. It left her trembling, red-eyed, shaken. After that she
used to see it, by hook or crook whenever possible. She used to come in
at the stage door and lurk back of the scenes and in the wings when she
had no business there. She invented absurd errands to take her to the