"Do you think there may be a change tonight?" Miss Rose looked straight into his face to see just what he meant.

"Yes, Miss Rose, there may be, and I hope it will be for the better."

"You hope?" Miss Rose held her breath a minute.

"Yes, let us hope. Hope does more than all the medicine in the world."

The minutes crept along into hours, and midnight pa.s.sed, while Miss Rose watched.

Clematis seemed restless, but she did not talk to herself any more.

Miss Rose held the gla.s.s to her lips now and then, but she did not drink.

When Miss Rose wiped her face with a cold, wet cloth, she smiled a faint little smile, as if she liked it. Then the look of pain would come again, as she turned restlessly.

The clock outside struck one. How slowly the minutes went.

At last it struck two, and a breeze stirred the leaves outside.

They were the leaves of the maple Clematis had broken in the early Spring. Now they seemed to whisper softly to each other.

All else was silent.

Miss Rose had watched a long time. Many days she had been by the bed. Her eyes began to droop.

"I'll rest my head just a minute," she thought, and leaned back upon the chair.

Slowly the clock struck three. As the last stroke came, Miss Rose stirred, and opened her eyes.

Then she started up.

"I must have been asleep," she said aloud. "Oh, shame on me for sleeping, when I promised to watch."

She looked down at the bed.

Clematis lay there, peaceful and quiet. Her little hand was white and still as marble. Her face seemed very happy. All pain was gone, and a smile lay upon the pale lips.

"Oh, little Clematis. To think I should have been asleep!"

Miss Rose took out her handkerchief, and bent her head down on the bed, weeping.

A slight sound seemed to come from the pillow. Miss Rose looked up.

The child's eyes were open wide. She was looking at her in wonder.

"He said I could go, didn't he?" said Clematis in a faint voice.

Miss 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 gla.s.s 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.