been staring
instead at the girl's hair--staring and wondering lawlessly. She had
seen advertisements. Might her own hair be like that--"like tarnished
gold," she put it? Of course you had to keep putting the stuff on at the
roots as it grew out. But would her colour blend with that shade?
Patricia's skin had the warm fairness of new milk, but Winona was
dusky. Perhaps a deeper tint of auburn----

She was recalled from this perilous musing by Rapp, Senior, who came
pressing his handkerchief to a brow damp from the last dance. He bowed
to Winona.

"May I have this pleasure?" he said. Winona rose like a woman of the
world.

"We're on the map at last," said Rapp, Senior, referring to Newbern's
newest big-town feature.

"I know I'm on the map at last," said Winona, coyly, and tapped the arm
of Rapp, Senior, with her feathered trifle of a fan.

"Dance?" said Wilbur to Patricia.

"Thanks a heap! Merle won't. He says how can he dance when thinking of
free Russia? But did you see those stunning Russian dancers? It doesn't
keep them from dancing, does it? Poor old Merle is balmy--mice in his
wainscoting."

They danced, and Patricia was still the rattlepate.

"You're going over, Uncle Sharon told us. Merle says you're a victim of
mob reaction--what does that mean? No matter. Pretty soon he said you'd
be only a private. Grandpa Gideon looked as if he had bitten into a
lemon. He says, 'I believe privates form a very important arm of the
service'--just like that. He's not so keen on Merle, but he won't admit
it. With him it's once a Whipple always a Whipple! When he saw Merle's
picture, leaning the beautiful head on the two long fingers and the hair
kind of scrambly, he just said, 'Ah, you young scamp of a socialist!' as
if he were saying, 'Oh, fie on you!' Merle can talk the whole bunch down
when he gets to shooting on all six--sounds good, but I've no doubt it's
just wise twaddle.

"What a stunning dancer you are! Ask me quick again so I won't have to
go back to free Russia. I'll promise to nurse you when you get wounded
over there. I'll have learned to do everything by that time. Wouldn't it
be funny if you were brought in some day with a lot of wounds and I'd
say, 'Why, dear me, that's someone I know! You must let me nurse him
back to health,' and of course they would. Anyway, the family's keen
about my going. They think I ought to do my bit, especially as Merle
can't, because of his eyes. Be sure you ask me again."