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.

“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. They went 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 small river, 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. She was 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 went to 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.