d of the stairs. Should she go down to the "Jolly
Susan," or visit with Florence or Miss Ashwell. The thought of Miss
Ashwell was comforting, her room was the "homiest" place Judith knew, so
she tapped at the door of the pleasant little brown room at the end of
the corridor.

Miss Ashwell was knitting to-day. She was nearly always knitting for
some one else, thought Judith, as she idly watched the needles flashing.
Knitting made her think of Red Cross work, and that led straight to the
awful thought of a Current Events test shortly coming off. While they
were to be examined on the whole term's work, part of the test was the
writing of an essay on a subject chosen from a list of three. Judith
had decided to write on "Red Cross Work in Italy." Her father's brother,
Brian, was a brilliant engineer who had been loaned to Italy by the
British Government, and Judith naturally knew more about the war in
Italy than anywhere else. She would have to get Uncle Brian's letters
out and piece together the bits of information he had given her. She and
her father had read several magazine articles last summer, but she
couldn't even remember what magazines they were. Oh, dear, what a lot of
work it would be! How tired she was! If she could just stay here and
sleep all afternoon! She heaved a big gusty sigh. Miss Ashwell looked up
quickly.

"What's wrong, Judy, dear?" Miss Ashwell never seemed to be in a hurry
herself, a miraculous achievement at York Hill. Judith told her tale of
woe, sure of sympathy.

Miss Ashwell seemed even more interested than usual.

"I believe I can help you, Judy," she said, her cheeks flushing; "just
hand me my despatch-case from the table." She opened it and took out
snapshots, pictures cut from magazines, and several descriptive articles
dealing with the subject in hand.

Judith looked her amazement. It seemed almost too good to be true. Miss
Ashwell smiled and her cheeks grew pinker than ever.

"I'm especially interested in Italian work, Judy--because I had a friend
out there during the war. He sent me these snapshots. I'll show them to
you now and you may take the magazine articles with you. The Red Cross
did such magnificent work there that I don't wonder Miss Kingston chose
that as one of your subjects."

"Oh, Miss Ashwell, it's just like the manna in the wilderness," gasped
Judith,--"I mean I'm so grateful," she explained incoherently, "although
the Jews were not always properly grateful, were th