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 beautiful country, 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 of the 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 a secret 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 fence she 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 looked eagerly 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.

“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 eyes flashed, 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 more politely, 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?