"If she had hoped for it, Providence would not have granted it," interpolated the Honorary Trier. "This is hardly the moment for jesting," said Lillie, with marked pique. "Pardon me. The moment for jesting is surely when you have received a blow. In a happy crisis jesting is a waste of good jokes. The retiring candidate does not state _what_ Providence has granted, does she?" "No," said Lillie savagely. "She was extremely reticent about her history--reticent almost to the point of indiscretion. But I daresay it's a husband." "Ah, then it can hardly be Providence that has granted it," said Silverdale. "Providence is not always kindly," said Lillie laughing. The gibe at Benedicts restored her good-humor and when the millionaire strolled into the Club she did not immediately expel him. "Well, Lillie," he said, "when are you going to give the _soirée_ to celebrate the foundation of the Club? I am staying in town expressly for it." "As soon as possible, father. I am only waiting for some more members." "Why, have you any difficulty about getting enough? I seem always to be meeting young ladies on the staircases." "We are so exclusive." "So it seems. You exclude even me," grumbled the millionaire. "I can't make out why you are so hard to please. A more desirable lot of young ladies I never wish to see. I should never have believed it possible that such a number of pretty girls would be anxious to remain single merely for the sake of a principle." "You see!" said Lillie eagerly, "we shall be a standing proof to men of how little they have understood our sex." "Men do not need any proof of that," remarked Lord Silverdale dryly. This time it was Lillie whom Turple the magnificent prevented from making the retort which was not on the tip of her tongue. "A gentleman who gives his name as a lady is waiting in the ante-room," he announced. They all stared hard at Turple the magnificent, almost tempted to believe he was joking and that the end of the world was at hand. But the countenance of Turple the magnificent was as stolid and expressionless as a Bath bun. He might have been beaming behind his face, possibly even the Old Maids' Club tickled him vastly, so that his mental midriff was agitated convulsively; but this could not be known by outsiders. Lillie took the card he tendered her and read aloud: "Nelly Nimrod." "Nelly Nimrod!" cried the Honorary Trier. "Why, that's the famous girl who travelled from Charing Cross to China-Tartary on an elephant and wrote a book about it under the pen-name of Wee Winnie." "Shall I show him in?" interposed Turple the magnificent. "Certainly," said Lillie eagerly. "Father, you must go." "Oh, no! Not if it's only a gentleman." "It may be only no lady," murmured Silverdale. Lillie caught the words and turned upon him the dusky splendors of her fulminant eyes. "_Et tu, Brute!_" she said. "Do you too hold that false theory that womanliness consists in childishness?"