Moreover, in an extraordinary fashion for so young and presumably selfish a girl she immediately forgot herself. She was living in an atmosphere of unselfishness and devotion to others, so the thought that the object of her present care was not a worthy object did not at the moment influence her. In a matter-of-fact and skillful fashion Sally first poured a small amount of milk inside her patient's parted lips. Except that the soldier became half aroused by her act and seemed to wish more, there was no difficulty. Then unwrapping the arm which she had bandaged the day before, she cleansed the wound a second time with the antiseptic she had brought for the purpose. Afterwards, realizing that she must find the water she had been told was still to be had in one of the rooms of the chateau, without considering her previous fears, Sally climbed and crawled through one dangerous opening after the other, in spite of her awkwardness in any unaccustomed physical exertion. Finally she discovered the water. Then in a half broken pitcher, secured in passing through one of the wrecked bedrooms, she carried a small amount to the drawing-room. Without hesitation or embarrassment the girl bathed her undesired patient's face and hands. He had fine, strong features; there was nothing in the face to suggest weakness or cowardice. Still it remained impossible to decide his nationality or whether he was an officer or merely a common soldier, since his outfit was a patchwork of oddly assorted garments. Sally's acquaintance with uniforms was limited. She knew that the French wore the horizon blue and the British and Americans a nearly similar shade of khaki. Her patient's outfit was like no other she had seen. Yet over these minor details she did not trouble. In spite of her lack of experience, Sally was convinced that the soldier was now suffering from blood poison due to neglect of his wound and the unhealthy and unsanitary conditions in which he had been living. The day before she had thought he looked and acted strangely and had half an idea that he may have been partly delirious then, so she was not altogether surprised by the present situation. During her journey across the fields daylight had come; because she would not otherwise have been able to accomplish her present task even so inadequately as she had accomplished it, Sally was pleased. Yet when the moment arrived and she had done all she could for the soldier's comfort she had to face her real difficulty. There is no mistake in this world more serious than to judge other people's problems in the light in which they appear to us. The problem which is nothing to one human being appears insurmountable to another. So with Sally Ashton's present difficulty.