The bright sun was shining on the red buds of the maple tree when Clematis woke the next morning.

It was early. The rising bell had not rung. Clematis got up and looked out of the open window.

She could see nothing but houses across the street, but the buds of the maple were beautiful in the sun.

“I wish I had some of those buds to put in my room,” said Clematis to herself.

She took her clothes, and began to dress. While she was dressing, she looked again at the maple buds, and wanted them more than ever.

“If I reached out a little way, I could get some of those, I just know I could,” she thought.

As soon as she got her shoes on she pushed the window wide open.

She leaned out. Some beautiful buds were very near, but she could not quite reach them.

She leaned out a little farther. Then she climbed upon the window sill.

They were still out of her reach.

For a minute she stopped. Then she put one foot out in the gutter. With one hand she held the blind, and reached out to the nearest branch.

At last she had it. She drew it nearer, and broke off a piece with many buds.

As the piece broke off, the branch flew back again to its place, and Clematis almost fell back through the window to the floor.

She patted the red buds and made a little bunch of them. She filled her cup with water and put the buds in it; then she put it on the bureau.

Clematis was looking proudly at them, when the door opened, and Miss Rose came in.

She looked at Clematis, and then at the buds.

“Why, Clematis!” she said.

Then she looked out the window. There, several feet beyond the window, was the broken end. Drops of sap were running from the white wood.

“How did you get those buds?” asked Miss Rose.

“I reached out of the window,” said Clematis, “why, was that stealing?”

Miss Rose gasped.

“Clematis, do you mean to tell me that you climbed out of the window and reached for that branch?”

Clematis nodded. Tears came into her eyes. She must have done something very wrong, but she did not know just what was so wicked about taking a small branch from a maple tree.

“I didn’t know it was stealing,” she sobbed.

“It isn’t that, Clematis. It is not wrong to take a twig, but think of the danger. Don’t you know you might have fallen and killed yourself?”

Clematis wiped her eyes on her sleeve.

“Oh, that’s nothing,” she said, “I had hold of the blind all the time. I couldn’t fall.”

“Now, Clematis, no child ever did such a thing before, and you must never, never, do it again. Do you understand?”

“Yes’m.”

“Do you promise?”

“Yes’m.”

“Well then, let’s get ready for breakfast.”

Clematis washed her face and hands, brushed her hair, and cleaned her teeth carefully.

Soon she was ready to go down stairs, and took one of the maple buds to put in her dress.

As they went out, Miss Rose saw that she wanted to say something.

“Do you want something?” she said.

“Can I help Katie this morning?”

“After breakfast I will ask Mrs. Snow, but breakfast is almost ready now.”

Just then the breakfast bell rang, and Clematis marched in with the other children. She was thinking about Deborah, and wondering if she had caught any rats.

For breakfast they had baked apples, oatmeal with milk, and rye gems.

It did not take them long to eat this. Soon they were through, and ready for the morning work.

As they were getting up, Mrs. Snow came to speak to Miss Rose.

Clematis held her breath when she heard what was said.

“Perhaps this little girl would like to go down and play with her kitten a while. We can find some work for her by and by.”

“Oh yes,” said Clematis, “I would.”

“Well, you can tell Katie I said you might. Be sure not to get in her way.”

Off ran Clematis to the kitchen, to find her dear Deborah.

There she was, curled up like a little ball under the stove.

She looked with sleepy eyes at Clematis, and crawled down into her lap.

Then Clematis smoothed her and patted her, till she purred her very sweetest purr.

“Ah,” said Katie. “It’s a fine cat. It caught a big rat in the night, and brought it in, as proud as pie.”

“Do you think they will let me keep her?” asked Clematis.

“Oh, I guess so. If she catches the rats, she will be welcome here. You can be sure of that. I hate rats.”

While Clematis and Deborah were having such a good time in the kitchen, Mrs. Snow took Miss Rose to her room.

“Well, Miss Rose, have you found out anything about that strange little child?”

“Not very much yet. She talks very little, and has had very little care.”

“What makes you think so?”

“Why, the poor child didn’t know what a tooth brush was for. She said she always left her clothes in a pile by the bed, because she could find them all in the morning.”

Mrs. Snow sighed.

“Dear me, she will need much care, to teach her how to do things well. But I guess her folks will come for her before long.”

“I don’t know who her folks can be. She has never learned any prayers.”

“Poor child, she must be a sad case.” Mrs. Snow sighed again.

“But she is very fearless. This morning, before I went to her room, she had climbed out of the window and broken off a piece of the maple tree with buds on it.”

“What, way up there at the roof?”

“Yes, she said that was nothing, for she had hold of the blind.”

“What did she want the branch for?”

“She wanted it for the red buds. She broke them off and put them in her cup, like flowers.”

“Well, Miss Rose, take her out to walk this afternoon, and ask her some questions. Perhaps you can find out where she lives.”