“Dunno myself, yet. They say the only way to learn to swim is to be thrown into the water. So I daresay the way to learn to fly, is to get in an aeroplane and start.”
“Nonsense! You have to be taught.”
“Then I will be taught. But I’m going to be a good aviator. I’m sure I’ll like the stunt, and I want to begin as soon as possible.”
“I wish I could do some war work,” and Patty sighed.
“Good gracious!” said Nan, “I don’t know any girl who does more of it than you do, Patty! When you’re not down in that old office doing clerical work, you’re knitting like a house afire. And you are on two or three committees and you write slogans for the Food people and for the Liberty Loan Bonds, and oh, I don’t know what all you do!”
“All of a sudden, isn’t it?” asked Philip, interestedly. “Have you been doing these things long?”
“Some of them,” said Patty. “But I have done more of late. I feel so useless unless I do.”
“Yes,” said Nan, “and then you work beyond your strength, and overtax yourself, and the first thing you know you will be useless indeed!”
“Why, Patty? Why these great works?” asked Van Reypen.
“Oh, because of Bill,” Nan answered for her. “You see he’s so mixed up in war work, that Patty must needs to do a lot also. And she’s such an extremist, she’s not satisfied with doing a bit, it must be a whole lot of bits.”