It was one of those rare autumn days in England. The sky was blue asblue. The trees cast dark shadows across the hillside. The sheepwandered contentedly along the slope. To Cherry Ramsey, for one fullmoment it seemed that nothing could possibly be wrong with the world.Then with a sudden light spring she shot from her sunny corner to scanthe sky and to exclaim softly to the collie at her feet:"Flash old boy, it's an airplane. Perhaps it's a bomb-bomber." That lastword always choked her. How she hated those Nazi marauders! No, all wasnot right with the world! Perhaps it never would be again for a long,long time!"But Flash old boy," there was hot fire in her voice, "we must all doour best and trust God. That's what mother always says, and she's nearlyalways right."