Life was moving very fast to Winona; she could not analyze all her fresh thoughts and impressions, but she felt she could no more go back to her last year's mental outlook than she could have worn the long clothes of her babyhood.

She was sixteen now, for her birthday fell on the 20th of January.

Somehow sixteen sounded so infinitely older than fifteen! There was a dignity about it and a sense of importance.

In another year she would actually be "sweet seventeen," and a member of that enviable school hierarchy the Sixth Form! Winona could have made herself thoroughly happy at Abbey Close but for the shadow that existed between herself and Aunt Harriet.

Percy's secret was a perpetual burden on her conscience.