"You don't?" she said, with a little tremor of astonishment in her voice. "And why not?" She looked anxiously into his eyes for the reply.
"The candidates are too charming to remain single," he explained, smiling.
She smiled back a little at him, those sweet gray eyes still looking into his.
"You are not a literary man?" she said irrelevantly.
"I am afraid I must plead guilty to trying to be," he said. "The evidence is down in black and white."
The smile died away and for an instant Ellaline's brow went into black for it. She accepted an ice from Turple the magnificent, but took her leave shortly afterwards, Lillie promising to write to her.
"Well?" said the President when she was left alone with the Honorary Trier.
That functionary looked dubious. "Up till the very last she seemed single-hearted in her zeal. Then she asked whether I was a literary man. You know her story. What do you conclude?"
"I can hardly come to a conclusion. Do you think there is still a danger of her marrying to get someone to advertise her?"
"I think it depends on The Cherub. If The Cherub is born and lives, it will be a more effectual advertising medium than even a husband, and may replace him. A paper of your own can puff you rather better than a husband of your own, it has a larger circulation and more opportunities. An authoress-editress, her worth is far above rubies! Her correspondents praise her in the gates and her staff shall rise up and call her blessed. It may well be that she will arrive at that stage at which a husband is an incubus and marriage a manacle. In that day the honor of the Club will be safe in her hands."