23/48 War is such a mistake!" It was a flushed and sparkling Winona who later fluttered down the dull old stairs of the respectable Penniman home at the call of the waiting Wilbur Cowan. Her dark hair was still plainly, though rather effectively, drawn about her small head--she had definitely rebuffed the suggestion of her mother that it be marcelled--but her wisp of a frock of bronze gossamer was revolutionary in the extreme. Mrs.Penniman had at last been fancy in her dressmaking for her child, and now stood by to exclaim at her handiwork. Winona, with surprising _aplomb_, bore the scrutiny of the family while she pulled long white gloves along her bare arms. A feathered fan dangled from one of them. |