As the winter closed in--it was one of the open, keen, out-of-door winters which have done their share to make the dwellers on the great central plateau of Kentucky so sturdy a race of men--the Thorpe automobile was seen less frequently on the road to Storm. Kate smilingly accused Jemima of neglecting her for the furthering of her social campaign. "A social campaign in _Lexington_? How absurd!" shrugged Jemima; to her mother's amusement. It was difficult to keep pace with the development of Jemima. "To tell the truth--I did not mean to speak of it until later--but we are finishing a book!" "'We'?" laughed Kate. "Yes. James has been at work on it in a desultory way for a number of years, and I am very busy looking up references, and verifying quotations, and prodding. You know scholarly men are inclined to be--procrastinating." (The word "lazy" was to Jemima's thinking too great an insult to be applied to any one for whom she cared.) "Is it a novel, with you in it?" demanded Jacqueline, eagerly, with unconscious wistfulness. Once she herself had hoped to be the heroine of a novel; and she surreptitiously read all the book reviews she could lay hands upon to see whether Channing had been able to finish it without her. "A novel--pooh! It is a treatise on the Psychology of the Feminist Movement; and I think," added Jemima complacently, "that it will be more salable than James' previous works." "I have no doubt of it," murmured her mother. "But just what is this Feminist Movement I read so much about nowadays, dear? Votes, and strongmindedness in general?" Jemima looked at her mother, thoughtfully. "If you but knew it, you yourself are a leader in the Feminist Movement. It is seeing such women as you denied the ballot that has made most of us suffragists." "Good Heavens! Are you _that_?" gasped her mother. "All thinking women are 'that' nowadays," replied Jemima, reprovingly. "Besides, it's very smart." Shortly after the book in question made its appearance, Jemima arrived at Storm one day quite pale with excitement. "It's come," she cried, "it's come at last! James has been offered the Presidency of ----" (she named a well-known Eastern university) "and he's already found a substitute for Lexington, and we're going on at once!" "To live?" cried Jacqueline. "Of course! Isn't it splendid? Oh, I've seen it coming ever since that lecture tour, and the book clinched matters." Jacqueline embraced her sister in unselfish delight. "Think of it--'Mrs. President'! And all the young professors kowtowing, and the nice undergraduates to dance with--and what a wonderful place to live! Dear old Goddy! Oh, I _am_ glad. That famous college! Why, it's perfectly amazing!" "Nice, of course, but hardly amazing," corrected Jemima, herself once more. "James is a very brilliant man, you know. I always expected recognition for him. He should have had some such position long ago. But he had no knowledge of how to--take advantage of opportunities."