grade school, high school, and college, and other details followed.

“And now,” said the examiner, leaning forward, “what can you do?”

“I—I really don’t know,” the girl faltered. “I’ve never worked at anything.”

“Ah! So you’ve never worked? Can you cook?”

“Not very well.”

“I see.” The examiner studied Norma’s face.

“How many in your family?”

“Just father and I.”

“And your father? What does he do?”

“He’s with the Telephone Company, in charge of a wide territory—equipment and all that.”

“Hmm.” The examiner studied her report. “Just two of you. You should be great pals.”

“Oh—we are!” Norma’s eyes shone. “You see,” she exclaimed, “Dad was in the other World War. I’ve always loved him for that. He was in France.”

“France,” said the examiner, with a quick intake of breath. Norma did not at all understand. “What a lovely land to die for.”

“Dad lost his right arm,” Norma stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “That’s why he can’t go back this time, and—and that’s why he wants me to go.”

“Would you like to go overseas?” The examiner’s eyes shone with a strange new light.

“I’d love to!” the girl whispered hoarsely. “But what could I do?”

“Oh! Loads of things.” The examiner made a record on her sheet. “Your father must have driven about a great deal looking things over in his present occupation.”

“Of course.”

“Did you ever go with him?”

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