iss 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 XII

GETTING 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?"

[Illustration: 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."

Mis