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?”

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, and purring 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.”

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 grown people 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.