“Yes, Bluebird; I can stay but an hour; I have to call for Miss Marion; she has gone to a King’s Daughters’ meeting, and I told her I would stop on my way home; I have to pass the house,” he explained in reply to an impatient movement in the wheel chair. Judith went out softly and ran lightly up the stairway. “Aunt Hilda,” began the penitent voice above Aunt Hilda’s head, “I have come to confess.” “Don, I wish I had warned you.” “Why didn’t you?” he asked, miserably. “Because I thought you had common sense.” “It is a case of common sense.” Judith’s fingers tapped lightly on the third story door. “Come in,” called a girlish voice. “Are you studying? May I stay and study too?” “You are always ahead of me,” grumbled Lottie. “Because I take longer lessons, and mother has no one else to teach. But she was tired to-day, and I couldn’t ask her about that dreadful thing in square root. Did you find out?” “Yes, and it’s as easy as mud.” Both girls laughed. “Bensalem mud isn’t easy; you think you are going through to China every spring when the roads are bad.” Judith had brought her pencil and pad; for half an hour the girls put their heads together over square root; then Lottie Kindare threw her book across the small room to the bed. “Judith, I know something new to tell you; Grace Marvin told me to-day at recess, and once it came true. I’ll show you.” On the lowest shelf of the little book-case Lottie found her Bible; it was dusty, but she did not notice that. With their chairs very near together, the Bible in Lottie’s lap, the girls sat silent a moment; Judith’s luminous eyes were filled with expectation. “Now wish for what you want most,” commanded Lottie, impressively. “I wish most of all for mother to be strong enough to go to Bensalem with Aunt Affy when she comes next week.” Lottie colored and looked uncomfortable; this evening before she came up stairs, her mother had told her that the doctor had stopped down stairs to say that Mrs. Mackenzie must be urged to make no effort to go into the country; it was too late. “Not that; something else,” said Lottie, impatiently, “not such a serious thing.” “But I want that _most_,” said Judith, piteously. “Then choose what you want second.” “Then I want second to go to boarding-school.” “That’s good,” exclaimed Lottie relieved, “now, shut your eyes and open the Bible and put your finger down, and if it touches: ‘_And it came to pass_,’ it _will_ come to pass.” “How queer,” said Judith delighted, “what an easy way to find out things. I wish I had known it before.” “So do I, for then I might have known that I _couldn’t_ have had a navy blue silk for Christmas; and I hoped for it until the very day.” Without any misgiving, Judith closed her eyes and opened the Bible; her heart beat fast, her fingers trembled; she dared not open her eyes and see.