now was very stern. She didn't wish any cats in the
Home.

Clematis looked at Mrs. Snow. Her eyes filled with tears, and she
began to sob.

Miss Rose turned as red as Deborah's tongue. She had not asked Mrs.
Snow if she might let the cat in. She thought it would stay in the
kitchen with Katie.

"Did you hear me, Miss Rose? I wish you would please put the cat out
the door. We can't have it here."

Miss Rose started to get up, when Clematis slipped out of her chair,
hugging Deborah tightly to her breast.

The tears were running down her cheeks, as she started for the
door.

"Where are you going, little girl?" said Mrs. Snow.

Clematis did not answer, but kept right on.

"Stop her, Miss Rose. What is the matter, anyway? Dear me, what a
fuss!"

Miss Rose caught Clematis by the arm.

"Wait, dear," she said. "Don't act like that. Answer Mrs. Snow."

"I don't care," sobbed Clematis, looking back. "I don't want to stay
here if you are going to throw my cat away."

"I should have asked you, Mrs. Snow," said Miss Rose. "She had the
kitten with her. She cried to bring it in, and Katie said she would
care for it in the kitchen."

"Oh, so that is it. Well, don't cry, child. Take it back to Katie,
and tell her to keep the door shut."

"She's hungry," said Clematis, drying her eyes on her sleeve.

"Well, ask Katie to feed her then, and come right back to the
table."

CHAPTER III

THE FIRST NIGHT

Supper was soon finished, with many giggles from the little girls,
who hoped that Deborah would get in again.

Clematis ate every crumb of her bread and cookie. Her yellow bowl
looked as if Deborah had lapped it dry.

"After supper, we play games. It's great fun," said Sally, as they
were folding their bibs.

The bell rang, and the long line of children formed once more.

They marched out through the long hall, up the broad stairs to the
play room.

There were little tables, with low chairs to match. Some of the
tables held games.

In one corner of the room was a great doll house, that a rich lady
had given to the Home.

In another corner was a small wooden swing with two seats.

A rocking horse stood near the window, and a box of bean bags lay on
a low shelf near by.

Soon all were playing happily, except Clematis, who stood near the
window.

She was looking at the trees, which were sending out red buds. The
sun had set, and the sky was rosy with the last light of day.

"Don't you want to pl