"Not yet, sir," said Harry with some embarrassment.

"That is not fair, father," said Grace Corwin, who saw that Harry was
rather hurt at the joke. "The Brighton boys are very much interested
in aviation, and some time ago seven or eight of them banded together
and have studied the subject as hard and as thoroughly as they could.
See this "---and she reached for the book Harry had been
reading---"This is what they have been doing instead of something much
less useful. There is not one of them who is not hoping one day to be
a flyer at the front, and they have waited for the starting of flying
at the new grounds with the greatest expectations. I don't think it
is fair to make fun of them. If everyone in the country was as eager
to do his duty in this war it would be a splendid thing."

Grace was a fine-looking girl, with a handsome, intelligent face.
When she talked like that, she made a picture good to look upon.
Harry was surprised. Usually his sister took but little account of
his activities. But this was different. With her own brother Will
fighting in France, and another girl's brother Will a doctor in the
American Hospital at Neuilly, near Paris, Grace was heart and soul
with the Allies. Harry might have done much in other lines without
attracting her attention, but his keenness to become a flier at the
front had appealed to her pride, and she felt deeply any attempt to
belittle the spirit that animated the boys, however remote might be
the possibility of their hopes being fulfilled.

Major Phelps listened to the enthusiastic, splendid, wholesome girl
with frank admiration in his eyes. Harry could not have had a better
champion. First the major took the book. Glancing at it, he raised
his brows. "Do you understand this?" he asked.