most led to wish that school societies did not exist at all.

CHAPTER IX.

THE SUBSTITUTE.

Miss Walker had not failed to see the stinging article against women's
colleges written by Miss Beatrice Slammer for a newspaper, and when she
recalled that Miss Slammer had recently spent a day at Wellington as a
guest of the college under plea of gathering material, she felt somewhat
embittered. When, therefore, it came to her ears that the students
intended to ask Miss Slammer to Wellington ostensibly for the purpose of
hearing her views on anti-suffrage, she smiled and said nothing to
anybody except Miss Pomeroy, who had raised some objections.

"Don't worry over it, my dear," said Miss Walker, "they won't do
anything to make us ashamed. It's Miss Slammer who will be ashamed, I
rather imagine."

Perhaps Miss Slammer was surprised at receiving an invitation from
Wellington University after her lampoon of college girls. Whatever
qualms she may have felt in writing it had been hushed to sleep with the
insidious thought that the views, if not true, were at least sensational
enough to catch the public eye; and this was more important to Miss
Slammer than anything else. It flattered her to be asked to speak at
this small but distinguished college. Of course they had never seen the
article or they would never have sent the invitation. Miss Slammer had
her doubts as to whether any person outside New York ever read a
newspaper, especially a lot of college girls who had no interests beyond
amateur plays and basket ball. So she promptly dispatched a polite note
of acceptance to "Miss Julia Kean." Then at the last moment, only a few
hours before train time, her courage failed her.

"I can't do it," she said. "I simply haven't the nerve."

"Do what?" asked Jimmy Lufton, glancing up from his typewriter to the
somewhat battered and worn countenance of Miss Slammer.

"Face a lot of women and talk to them about anti-suffrage."

Jimmy grinned. He had the face of a mischievous schoolboy. In his eyes
there lurked two little imps of adventure while his broad and sunny
smile was completely disarming. "Sunny Jim" was the name given him by
his friends in the office, a name that still clung to him after five
tempestuous years of newspaper work.

"Would you like a substitute?" he asked. "I think I could give some
pretty convincing arguments."

"What do you know about it?" demanded Miss Slammer doubtfully.

"Did you read the artic