CHAPTER IXTHE SECRET
The next morning Clematis did better in helping Jane with the beds, and before many mornings had passed she learned so well that Miss Rose praised her for her work.
When she wanted to stop trying, and wanted to get up without washing her face and hands, and cleaning her teeth, she would look out the window at the hill beyond the river.
It seemed to smile at her and say:
“Don’t forget the beautifulcountry, little girl. Remember the birds and the flowers. Do the best you can.”
But there were so many things to do that it seemed to poor Clematis as if she would never learn half of them.
When she tried to help in setting the table, she dropped some plates.
She said things that made the other girls cross, for she had never learned to play with other girls, and she forgot that she could no longer do just as she pleased.
Worst of all, she did not always pay attention to study, and when Miss Rose left her to do some numbers, would be looking out ofthe window, instead of working on her paper.
So the days went on, and spring was almost over.
The dandelions had all blossomed and grown up tall, with white caps on their heads, and there were no other flowers in the yard.
One day Clematis found something which made her almost as happy as if she had found some flowers.
At first she thought she would keep it a secret, and tell no one about it. Then she thought how good Jane had been to her, so she went up to her when she was standing alone.
“Say, Jane, if I tell you asecret will you promise not to tell anybody else?”
“Sure, I’ll promise,” said Jane. “What is it?”
Clematis looked around. The other children were playing games.
“Come over here,” she said.
She led Jane to the big board fence which stood at the back of the yard.
Then she got down on her knees and took hold of one of the boards. It was loose, and she could pull it out.
“See, look through there,” said Clematis, in a low voice.
Her face shone with pleasure as she peeped through.
Jane knelt down, and peeped through too. Beyond the fenceshe could see into another yard.
In this yard there was grass growing, and flower-beds, where the flowers were beginning to grow up in green shoots.
But this was not all. Not far from the fence, by a corner of the garden, stood a low bush. She could smell its sweet fragrance from where she knelt.
“Do you see it?” whispered Clematis.
“Of course I see it. I can smell it too. It’s great.”
Jane took in a long breath of the fragrance, and smiled at Clematis.
“Oh, I wish I had some of those blossoms.” Clematis lookedeagerly at the blossoms. “Do you know what they are, Jane?”
“Oh, yes; those are lilacs.”
The two girls had just time to take one more deep breath, full of the fragrance from the lilac blossoms, before the bell rang.
Jane kept her promise, and while the lilacs lasted, they used to go often to their secret place and smell the fragrance of the blossoms.
The first of July, some of the girls began to start for their vacations in the country.
Now it was harder than ever for Clematis to stick to her work. She kept thinking of the beautiful fields, when she should have been thinking of numbers.
“I don’t know what we are going to do with you, Clematis,” said Miss Rose one day.
“You do try hard sometimes. You have learned to make beds well. You are a good girl about your clothes, morning and night. But you are dreaming of other things, I fear. What is it you dream about so much?”
Clematis thought a moment.
“Do you think I will have a chance to go to the country?”
She looked up at Miss Rose. Her face was white and anxious.
“Why Clematis. I don’t know. You wouldn’t be very much help I am afraid. You quarrel with the other children, and you are very slow to learn.”
“Yes’m,” said Clematis, and hung her head.
“Still,” said Miss Rose, “you might have a chance later. If you try hard I will not forget you.”
Clematis tried to feel happier then, but there were so many things to learn, and so few days to learn them in, that she hardly dared to hope very much.
She found it very hard to learn to play happily with the other children, and liked it much better just to get Deborah all by herself and play with her.
July went by, and the children began to come back again. They told stories of the wonderful things they had seen, and now Clematis was only too glad to sit near them and listen.
Clematis is better
Clematis is better
“Oh,” said Sally, who had been to Maine, “Mr. Lane had a field almost as big as a whole city, full of long grass and daisies.”
“Would he let you pick the daisies?” asked Clematis.
“Of course he would; all you wanted.”
“Where is Maine?” asked Clematis, eagerly.
“Hear her talk,” said another girl, named Betty, with a sniff. “She needn’t worry, she’ll never get a chance to pick any.”
Betty was not very kind, and did not like Clematis. She often made fun of the younger children.
Clematis turned red. Her eyesflashed, and she was about to answer, when the supper bell rang.
They had just sat down at the table, when Betty said to a girl near by:
“You ought to hear Clematis. She thinks she is going to the country. Just as if anybody would have her around.”
Betty sat next to Clematis, who heard every word.
She had tried to be a good girl and learn, just as Miss Rose asked her to.
Her face burned, and her eyes flashed more than ever.
Before she stopped to think, she turned and waved her spoon before Betty’s face, saying:
“You can’t stop me. You’d better keep quiet, you old pig!”
Betty was so startled that she moved back. Her arm struck her bowl of milk, and the milk spilled out, all over the table.
Part of it spilled down into her lap.
Then Clematis began to cry. When Miss Rose sent her away from the table, and up to her bed, she went willingly.
She was glad to get away from the other children.
Miss Rose saw how sad she was, and knew how naughty Betty had been, so she did not punish her.
“I am very sorry you have not learned to behave morepolitely, Clematis. Perhaps this will be a lesson to you.”
That was all she said before Clematis went to bed, but Clematis cried quietly a long, long time.
She felt that she had made every one look at her, right in front of Mrs. Snow. What would Mrs. Snow think of her now?
CHAPTER XTWO DOCTORS
It was very late before Clematis fell asleep that night, and in the morning she had a headache.
When she got up she had to sit on the bed, she felt so dizzy.
Miss Rose found her sitting there.
“Why, Clematis,” she said. “Are you sick?”
“Yes’m, I guess so,” whispered the poor little girl.
“Lie right down again, dear, and perhaps you will feel better.”
They brought her a cup ofcocoa, and some toast, for breakfast, but she could not eat.
All day she lay there, pale and sick.
In the afternoon old Doctor Field came in to see her. He sat down by the bed and asked her some questions.
He looked at her tongue, and felt her pulse. Then he took out some little pills and gave them to Miss Rose.
“I guess you had better put her in a single room,” he said. “Give her some of these in water, every two hours during the day.”
He smiled at Clematis before he went out. “I guess she will feel better in the morning, when I come again.”
But in the morning Clematis was not better. She was worse.
“How did she pass the night?” asked Doctor Field, as he felt her pulse.
“Not very well,” said Miss Rose. “She did not sleep much, and had a good deal of pain.”
Doctor Field looked at her chest and arms.
“It might be chicken pox, or measles,” he said, “but I don’t see any of the usual signs.”
Little Clematis lay and looked at him steadily.
“Did you want something, dear?” he asked.
“I want a drink,” she said. “I want a drink of cold, cold water.”
“Yes, dear, you shall have a drink, of course you shall.”
The old doctor went into the hall with Miss Rose.
“She may have a drink, but only a little at a time. And I wouldn’t let it be too cold. She really gets enough water with her medicine.”
Soon they brought Clematis a little water in a cup. She raised her head and drank it, but then made a face and turned her head away.
“It isn’t any good,” she said.
That evening old Doctor Field came again. He looked carefully at Clematis, and shook his head.
“I guess it’s only a slow fever. It’s nothing catching,” hesaid. “She’ll be better in a few days.”
The few days passed, but Clematis was not better.
At night she was restless, and slept little. Even when she did sleep, her slumber was disturbed by bad dreams.
She talked to herself during these dreams, though people couldn’t understand what she said.
Doctor Field came to see her every day or two, but he could not tell what her sickness was. He always said:
“Just give her the medicine as directed, and she will be better soon.”
Miss Rose had asked Mrs. Snow if she might take care of her, forshe had come to love little Clematis, and Clematis loved her in return.
The school work did not take her time very much now, so Mrs. Snow was glad to let Miss Rose care for Clematis.
If she stayed away very long, Clematis would call for her. She wanted her in the room.
“Mrs. Snow,” said Miss Rose, one day, after Clematis had been ill more than two weeks, “I am very anxious about Clematis.”
“Is she no better?”
“No, I feel she is worse. She keeps asking for a cold drink of water, and says she is burning up. I wish I dared give her some, and keep her cooler.”
“Well, I think I should follow the doctor’s directions. It wouldn’t be wise to do anything that is not directed by him.”
“Don’t you suppose we could have another doctor to look at her, Mrs. Snow?”
“No, I fear not; not just now, anyway.”
Miss Rose went back to the little room upstairs with a sad heart. She knew Clematis was very ill.
That night she prayed that something might be done for the little sick girl, and the next morning she felt as if her prayers had been answered, when Doctor Field came.
“I shall have to be away for ashort time, Miss Rose,” he said, after he looked at Clematis, and felt her pulse.
“A young man, Doctor Wyatt, will take my place, and I am sure he will do all that can be done.”
“Can he come today?” asked Miss Rose. “I wish he could see her soon.”
“I will ask him. I think he will be much interested in Clematis. I should like to see her well again myself, but I must be out of town a few weeks.”
“Oh, I hope he will come today, and I hope he will take an interest in my little girl,” said Miss Rose to herself.
“I know she can be cured, if we only know what is the matter.”
That afternoon Doctor Wyatt came. Miss Rose was glad when she saw him, for he was so kind, and so wise, that she knew he would do the best he could.
The afternoon was hot, and Clematis was covered with hot blankets, as directed by Doctor Field.
Dr. Wyatt took the blankets, and threw them off.
“The poor child will roast under those,” he said.
Then he sat beside her, and watched her.
“Is there anything you would like?” he said at last, in a pleasant voice.
“Yes, I want a cold drink ofwater.” Her voice sounded faint and feeble now.
“What does she have to drink?” asked Doctor Wyatt.
“We give her water now and then, as directed by Dr. Field. But we do not give her very much, and not very cold.”
“Have you any oranges in the house?”
“I could get some.”
“Then take the white of an egg, and put with it the juice of a whole orange. Add half a glass of water, with pieces of ice.
“Have good big pieces of ice,” Doctor Wyatt called after her, as he saw that Clematis had fixed her eye on him.
Clematis smiled when he saidthat, and turned toward him with a sigh.
Soon Miss Rose came back with the glass. Dr. Wyatt held it to the lips of the little sick girl. She drank slowly.
“Oh thanks,” she whispered, when he took the glass away.
“Give her some of that whenever she asks for it,” he said.
“Now tell me about the nights,” the doctor went on.
“She is restless, and sleeps very little. She has bad dreams when she does sleep, and talks to herself.”
“What does she talk about?”
“I don’t know. We can’t make out.”
“Do you keep the room lighted at night?”
“Oh, no, it is kept dark.”
“Well, tonight keep it lighted. People who have bad dreams are often frightened by the dark.”
“Shall I give her the medicine as directed?”
“No, don’t give her any more medicine at present. Give her all she wants of the orange and egg. I’ll be back in the morning.”
And Dr. Wyatt was gone.
“He’s a good doctor,” said Clematis, licking her dry lips. “I want a drink.”
Miss Rose smiled, and put the glass to her lips.
Off for Tilton
Off for Tilton
CHAPTER XIA LONG, ANXIOUS NIGHT
“Well,” said Doctor Wyatt, the next morning, “how is Clematis today?”
“She seems a little more comfortable,” said Miss Rose.
The doctor sat by her for half an hour. He felt her pulse, and looked her all over. Then he shook his head.
That day he spent a long time studying his books.
In the evening he came again, and sat by Clematis. He shook his head, sadly.
“I must tell you, Miss Rose,that Clematis is a very sick little girl,” he said, as they stood in the hall.
“Can’t you do anything for her?” The tears sprang to her eyes.
“Perhaps I can. If she is no better tomorrow, I shall feel very anxious.”
Again that night the doctor spent a long time over his big books. Then he went and talked with doctors in the hospital.
“I shall be here most of the time tonight,” he said the next morning. “Keep her cool, and as comfortable as you can.”
Miss Rose went back to the bed with aching heart.
“Oh, if we only knew whatwas the matter with you, Clematis,” she thought, as she looked at the little white face.
In the evening Doctor Wyatt came back once more.
“Now, Miss Rose,” he said, “you are very tired. You must go away for a walk, or a visit, or a rest. I will take care of her tonight.”
“Don’t you think I had better stay, too?”
“No, you must rest. Please have a cup of coffee sent to me about ten. I shall stay right here. You will be needed tomorrow.”
Doctor Wyatt sat down to watch by Clematis.
It was a warm evening, so hegave her a drink, and fanned her, to cool her hot face.
As it grew late, she fell into a light sleep. As she slept, she began to talk in low tones.
The doctor bent his head down very near her lips, and listened carefully to everything she said.
Hour after hour he watched and listened, until he, too, fell asleep, just as the sun was coming up.
Miss Rose found him there in the morning, sleeping in his chair, close by the bed.
“Miss Rose,” he asked, as he started up, “did this little girl want anything very much indeed?”
“Yes, she did. She wanted to go to the country, as the otherchildren did, but it did not seem quite possible.”
“That’s it! That’s just it!” exclaimed Doctor Wyatt. “She spoke of flowers, of lilacs and daisies. I couldn’t tell much what she said, but I could hear those words.”
At that moment, Clematis opened her eyes and stared about her.
Doctor Wyatt took one thin, frail hand in his big brown ones.
“Clematis,” he said in a loud, firm tone, “I know a lovely place in the country. If you will get well, you can go there for two whole weeks.”
Clematis stared at him, but did not seem to hear him.
“I want a drink,” she said feebly.
He put the glass to her lips.
“You can pick daisies, and goldenrod, and all sorts of flowers in the country, if you’ll just get well, can’t she, Miss Rose?”
“Yes, Clematis, you can.” Miss Rose tried to speak cheerfully, but it was hard. She wanted to cry.
Clematis stared at her also for a minute, and then turned away.
“I’ll go get some sleep now. Keep her cool and comfortable, till I come back again this evening.”
The day passed slowly. Mrs. Snow came in two or three timesto look at Clematis, and feel her pulse.
Some of the other teachers came to peep in also. They went away softly, wiping their eyes.
“She is a queer little girl,” said one, “but I do love her.”
That is what they all felt.
At evening Doctor Wyatt returned. He looked anxious, as he took his seat beside the bed.
“I shall stay till about ten, Miss Rose, so you must rest now.”
“I don’t want to go,” said Miss Rose.
“You must, you will be needed later. She will need great care tonight, I think.”
At ten, Miss Rose returned.She had not rested much, and was glad to get back to the bedside.
“Here is my telephone number, Miss Rose. You can get me very soon by calling me up. Watch her carefully, and if you see any change at all, send for me at once.”
“Do you think there may be a change tonight?” Miss Rose looked straight into his face to see just what he meant.
“Yes, Miss Rose, there may be, and I hope it will be for the better.”
“You hope?” Miss Rose held her breath a minute.
“Yes, let us hope. Hope does more than all the medicine in the world.”
The minutes crept along into hours, and midnight passed, while Miss Rose watched.
Clematis seemed restless, but she did not talk to herself any more.
Miss Rose held the glass to her lips now and then, but she did not drink.
When Miss Rose wiped her face with a cold, wet cloth, she smiled a faint little smile, as if she liked it. Then the look of pain would come again, as she turned restlessly.
The clock outside struck one. How slowly the minutes went.
At last it struck two, and a breeze stirred the leaves outside.
They were the leaves of themaple Clematis had broken in the early Spring. Now they seemed to whisper softly to each other.
All else was silent.
Miss Rose had watched a long time. Many days she had been by the bed. Her eyes began to droop.
“I’ll rest my head just a minute,” she thought, and leaned back upon the chair.
Slowly the clock struck three. As the last stroke came, Miss Rose stirred, and opened her eyes.
Then she started up.
“I must have been asleep,” she said aloud. “Oh, shame on me for sleeping, when I promised to watch.”
She looked down at the bed.
Clematis lay there, peaceful and quiet. Her little hand was white and still as marble. Her face seemed very happy. All pain was gone, and a smile lay upon the pale lips.
“Oh, little Clematis. To think I should have been asleep!”
Miss Rose took out her handkerchief, and bent her head down on the bed, weeping.
A slight sound seemed to come from the pillow. Miss Rose looked up.
The child’s eyes were open wide. She was looking at her in wonder.
“He said I could go, didn’t he?” said Clematis in a faint voice.
Miss Rose choked down her sobs.
“Yes, yes, Clematis, he did, he did.”
“Well, then, what are you crying about?”
Clematis closed her eyes again and lay, still as before, with a little smile on her lips.
Miss Rose was so astonished that she sat staring at her for some minutes, until she heard a step in the hall.
It was Doctor Wyatt.
He came in softly and looked at the little figure on the bed.
He felt her pulse, and listened to her heart. Then he smiled, and led Miss Rose from the room.
“She is all right now,” he whispered. “Let her sleep as long as she can.”
CHAPTER XIIGETTING WELL
Clematis slept all night, and all the next day. It was evening when she woke.
Miss Rose was beside the bed, and heard her as she moved.
“Do you feel better now, dear little girl?” asked Miss Rose.
Clematis looked at her a moment with eyes wide open.
“He said I could go, didn’t he?” she asked.
“Yes, surely he did, and you can go; you shall go just as soon as you are well.”
Clematis smiled a happy smile.
“I want a drink of that orange juice.”
Miss Rose brought a glass with ice in it, and held it, while Clematis sipped it slowly. Then she washed her face and hands in cold water.
“Thanks,” the little girl whispered, as she turned on the pillow, and went off to sleep again.
There was great joy all through the Home, for every one knew that Clematis was getting well.
Doctor Wyatt came every day to look at his little sick girl, and laugh, and pat her cheeks.
“You just wait till you see the apple pies my aunt can make,” he would say.
Then Clematis would smile.
“Tell me about the garden. Are there any lilacs?”
“No lilac blossoms now, little sister, but asters, and hollyhocks, and goldenrod. You just wait till you see them.”
Then the doctor would go out, with another laugh.
Soon Clematis got so well that she could sit up in bed.
Miss Rose would sit by the window, sewing, and sometimes she would read a story.
One afternoon she saw that Clematis was anxious about something. She had a little wrinkle in her forehead.
“What is it you are thinking about? Is there something you want?”
In the country at last
In the country at last
Miss Rose went and stood by the bed, smoothing her forehead with her soft hand.
“I was thinking,” said Clematis. “I was thinking that—that perhaps I could have Deborah come to see me, just for a minute.”
“Well, you wait a minute, and I’ll see.”
Miss Rose went out, and Clematis waited to hear her steps again. She had not seen Deborah for a long time.
Soon she heard Miss Rose coming back. She shut her eyes till the footsteps came up to the bed, and before she opened them, there was a little pounce beside her.
Her dear Deborah was rubbing a cold nose against her cheek, andpurring how glad she was to see her.
Clematis smoothed and patted her a long time, as she lay purring close by her side.
After that, Deborah came up often, and lay there on the bed, while Miss Rose sewed by the window.
“What are you sewing?” asked Clematis one day, when she was well enough to sit up.
“What do you suppose?”
“It looks like a dress.”
“That’s just what it is. It’s a new dress for a little girl to wear to the country.”
“Oh, who is going to have it? Let me see it. Please hold it up.”
Miss Rose held the dress before her. It was nearly done.
The skirt was of serge, navy blue, with two pockets. With it went a middy blouse, with white lacings at the neck, and white stars on the sleeves.
“Oh, please tell me. Who is going to have it?” The child’s eyes danced as she saw the pretty dress.
“I’ll give you just one guess,” said Miss Rose, smiling.
Clematis gasped. Could it be for her? She had never dreamed of owning a dress like that.
The little girl sat there a moment, without speaking. Then she pointed one finger at herself.
“Right, the very first time,”said Miss Rose. “This blouse is to travel in. There is another.”
She reached down and lifted another blouse. This was white, with blue collar and cuffs, and a blue star on the sleeve.
All this was too much for Clematis. The tears stood in her eyes, and she breathed fast. But she did not say very much to speak her gratitude.
“Oh, thanks,” was all she said. Miss Rose saw in her face how much it all meant to her.
“I am proud of this little patient,” said Doctor Wyatt, the next day. “If she keeps on at this rate, we can send her up to Tilton next week.”
“What are you sewing?”
“What are you sewing?”
How her eyes shone! How her heart jumped! The very next week she would be starting for the land of her dreams.
She could see great fields of grass, with daisies and clover. Already she could see them stretching out before her.
How she got through the days before she was to start, she never knew. She was well enough now to sleep in the dormitory once more; to eat with the other children, and do some of the work.
“Now dear,” said Miss Rose, the day before she was to start, “I must leave you. I am going away, too, for a vacation, so I must say goodby today.”
Clematis looked up in surprise. She never thought that grownpeople wanted to go away. She did not notice how pale and tired Miss Rose was. It had been hard work for her.
“You will try to help all you can, won’t you, dear? Think every minute of what you can do to help. Then people will love you, even if you make mistakes.”
“Yes’m, I will promise.”
“You can wear the blue blouse, and you can put the white one in the box I gave you, if you are afraid of crushing it in the little bag.”
“Oh, yes’m, I don’t want to put it in the bag.”
“Well, then, goodby, and have a good time. Jerry will see that you get on the right train.”
Jerry was the old cab man, who had a stand near the school, and carried people to the station.
This was a new delight for Clematis. What fun to ride to the station with Jerry, in a cab!
All day the joyful thoughts of her trip filled her mind. She could think of nothing else. The other children laughed at her, but she never minded them at all.
She was going to the country, to the birds, and flowers, and fields, and that was all she cared.
But as she was going to bed, one thought seemed to disturb her. She lay there thinking, with the little anxious line across her forehead.
A long time she thought. Then she spoke half aloud.
“That’s just what I’ll do,” she said. “I’ve got to, anyway. I don’t care if the blouse is crushed a little.”
Then she went to sleep.
CHAPTER XIIIOFF FOR TILTON
The day that she had longed for came at last. The sun was bright, the breeze was cool, and Clematis was as happy as the sparrows that hopped about in the maple tree.
All the morning she ran here and there, getting her things ready.
She had a small, black bag, and the box Miss Rose left for her extra blouse. Her things were put into these.
Mrs. Snow had an early lunch for Clematis, because she was going on the one o’clock train.
“I would rather eat it down in the kitchen with Katie,” she said, when they started to put a bowl on the big table.
Katie was willing, so Clematis had some bread and soup on the corner of the kitchen table.
With Katie in the kitchen
With Katie in the kitchen
“It will be nearer the street, so I will bring my things down here,” she said.
She seemed very nervous, but Katie thought it was because of her trip.
“Don’t worry, Miss Clematis,” she said. “Jerry will soon be here.”
“I know it.” Clematis looked around. Then she slipped out of her chair and went up to Katie.
She whispered a minute in her friendly ear.
“Oh, now dearie, I wouldn’t be doing that.”
Katie put her hand on the little girl’s cheek, and shook her head. “I don’t think they would like it.”
But Clematis was very serious. The tears came into her eyes as she whispered again.
“Oh, please, please! I don’t know what might happen.”
“Well, then,” answered Katie, “what I don’t see, I don’t know about. I’m going upstairs a minute. Be quick now.”
She went upstairs, and Clematis hurried into the small room near the kitchen, with her box.
In a minute she came out again, looking all about.
When Katie came down, she was drinking her soup. She could not swallow the bread.
“Dear child,” said Katie, as the bell rang. “I hope the worry doesn’t make her sick again.”
Jerry was ready with the cab.
“All aboard, mum, I’ll take your things.”
He started to take the box, which she hugged up under one arm.
“Oh, no thank you,” she cried, and held on to it tighter than ever.
Katie gave him the black bag she had in her hand, and the next minute Clematis was safe inside,and throwing a kiss to the friendly cook.
Before he got to the station, old Jerry stopped, and went into a store. He came out with a big paper bag.
“Katie told me to get this for you, miss,” he said, as he passed the bag to her through the open window.
She peeped inside. There was a smaller bag, and several big peaches.
In the smaller bag were sandwiches, and cream cakes.
What a treat! Clematis often longed for peaches, but had not tasted them very often.
In the station Jerry got down, and led her to the train.
“Here is a passenger for Tilton, New Hampshire,” he said to the conductor.
“All right, Jerry, I’ll look after her.”
The big conductor smiled at the little passenger.
“Come on, sister,” he said, as he stooped to take her box.
“Oh, no, thank you,” said Clematis, hugging it closer than ever.
“She must have her money in that,” laughed Jerry.
So the conductor took the two bags, while Clematis carried the box. He found her a seat where she could be right by the window.
Soon the train started. Theywent across bridges, and through the yards, till at last they came to the open country.
There Clematis could see the fields, and the flowers, which grew close by the tracks.
As the train flew on, they came to quiet woods, with little brooks, and cows resting comfortably in the shade.
There was so much to see, that Clematis could not take her face from the window a minute.
Farmers were at work in the fields of wheat, and corn, and oats. They were mowing and raking. Some were throwing hay into the big carts.
At last they came to a big river that ran along by the track.Clematis could see people fishing along the banks, and rowing on the smooth water.
“I hope there is a river in Tilton,” she thought.
It was a long time before she thought of the peaches, and sandwiches. When she did, she knew she was very hungry, so she opened the bag, and ate, while she watched the river, and fields, and forests.
One sandwich she broke in halves. She raised the cover of the box a little, and put one half inside. Then she shut the cover and tied the string.
“Tilton is the next station,” said the conductor, at last.
They went along beside a smallriver, across a bridge, and the train stopped at Tilton.
“I guess that little girl is for me,” said a tall man with a pleasant face, as Clematis came down the steps.
“Her tag says Mrs. Alder on it, is that the one?” asked the conductor.
“That’s right. I told Mrs. Alder I would bring her along when I came from the train.”
“Well, here’s her bag. She won’t let any one touch her box. She keeps her money in it. Goodby, little girl.”
“Too—too—too-too.”
The whistle blew, the wheels began to turn, and the long train drew slowly away.
“Right over here, little girl. Climb right up on the seat. I’ll hold your box.”
“Oh, no thank you,” said Clematis. “I’ll keep it.”
Then she looked up at the seat. How was she to climb up there and hold her box?
Suddenly she was lifted off the ground, and found herself safe on the high seat.
“That’s the way we’ll fix it,” said the man, with a smile. “Up you go, money, box, and all.”
“Now I want to go up the street about a mile or so, before I take you to Mrs. Alder. I don’t suppose you mind, do you?”
Clematis shook her head. Shewas happy at the thought of another ride.
So they drove up a long hill. As they reached the top, the man stopped his horse, and looked about.
“It’s pretty, isn’t it?” he said.
Clematis nodded, and looked all about her.
The hill sloped down again into a little valley, where the brook ran between green meadows.
Beyond that, the pastures ran up to meet the forest on another hill.
Looking past this hill, she could see the blue waters of a lake, sparkling in the evening sun.
From the lake the ground rose once more. Up and up it went,with pastures and forests, until it came to the rocky crowns of three mountains.
The mountains were a deep, misty blue. Above them rose the white August clouds, rolling on and on, into the highest heaven.
Clematis drew a long breath.
“It is lovely,” she whispered.
Not far from where they stopped was a white house, with the blinds closed. Vines ran about the front, and all seemed lonely.
“Who lives there?” she asked, finding her tongue at last.
“No one lives there now. A nice old man used to live there, but he had a good deal of sadness. He shut up the house, and wentto live in a little place over near Bean Hill.”
He pointed over to another hill which rose in the east.
Clematis would have liked to know more about the man who could leave such a lovely place, but the horse started on again.
Soon they turned into another road, and before long were turning back toward the village.
All the way along, Clematis could see the blue mountains in the distance. She could not take her eyes from them.
“Well, there is your house,” said the man, at last, pointing to a neat, white house.
Clematis looked all about. Yes,there were gardens, and flowers, and fields, and trees.
There was a cow down by a little brook.
Everything she had hoped to find was there. There was a tall maple beside the house.
“Well, this is Clematis, I guess,” said a lady, coming down the path.
“Thank you very much, Mr. Ladd. I see she came right side up.”
She took the bag Mr. Ladd handed down, and reached for the box that Clematis still hugged in her lap.
Clematis started to explain, but Mrs. Alder did not wait. She was nervous and quick.
She pulled the box out of her hands.
“Why Clematis, what is in this box?” Mrs. Alder looked at it in surprise.
Clematis did not answer. She gasped, and turned red as a rooster’s comb.
“It’s her money, Mrs. Alder,” said Mr. Ladd, laughing. “She has it tied up for safe keeping. The conductor told me so.”
Mrs. Alder lifted one corner of the box to peep in.
There was a scratching sound, and then out popped a little white, furry head, with sharp ears, and one black eye.
It was Deborah.