CHAPTER XXVI
EPILOGUE
THE tall figure of Edwin Brown no longer haunts the cafés of Broadway and Fifth Avenue. Long Island has gained in him an enthusiastic farmer, who gives much time to the breeding of fine horses and cattle.
On the day of his marriage he bought The New Era Magazine and gave it to his wife. It is no longer the organ of radical feminism, but has become very popular and turned out to be a sound business investment.
In fact, Brown has proven himself in many ways an exceptional husband. The old Captain, who is his valuable assistant on the farm, whispers now and then into Ellen’s ear that his like has never been seen. His stately daughter smiles a quiet answer that suggests an agreement with this opinion, although she has never ventured to say as much in the presence of mere man.
She writes her editorials now at a desk beside the south window of the nursery in their spacious Long Island home. A little cherub boy is forever pulling at her skirts, but she doesn’t seem to mind—not even when he gets hold of one of her manuscripts and chews a page out of it.
THE END.