ne as directed, and she will be better
soon."

Miss Rose had asked Mrs. Snow if she might take care of her, for she
had come to love little Clematis, and Clematis loved her in return.

The school work did not take her time very much now, so Mrs. Snow
was glad to let Miss Rose care for Clematis.

If she stayed away very long, Clematis would call for her. She
wanted her in the room.

"Mrs. Snow," said Miss Rose, one day, after Clematis had been ill
more than two weeks, "I am very anxious about Clematis."

"Is she no better?"

"No, I feel she is worse. She keeps asking for a cold drink of
water, and says she is burning up. I wish I dared give her some, and
keep her cooler."

"Well, I think I should follow the doctor's directions. It wouldn't
be wise to do anything that is not directed by him."

"Don't you suppose we could have another doctor to look at her, Mrs.
Snow?"

"No, I fear not; not just now, anyway."

Miss Rose went back to the little room upstairs with a sad heart.
She knew Clematis was very ill.

That night she prayed that something might be done for the little
sick girl, and the next morning she felt as if her prayers had been
answered, when Doctor Field came.

"I shall have to be away for a short time, Miss Rose," he said,
after he looked at Clematis, and felt her pulse.

"A young man, Doctor Wyatt, will take my place, and I am sure he
will do all that can be done."

"Can he come today?" asked Miss Rose. "I wish he could see her
soon."

"I will ask him. I think he will be much interested in Clematis. I
should like to see her well again myself, but I must be out of town
a few weeks."

"Oh, I hope he will come today, and I hope he will take an interest
in my little girl," said Miss Rose to herself.

"I know she can be cured, if we only know what is the matter."

That afternoon Doctor Wyatt came. Miss Rose was glad when she saw
him, for he was so kind, and so wise, that she knew he would do the
best he could.

The afternoon was hot, and Clematis was covered with hot blankets,
as directed by Doctor Field.

Dr. Wyatt took the blankets, and threw them off.

"The poor child will roast under those," he said.

Then he sat beside her, and watched her.

"Is there anything you would like?" he said at last, in a pleasant
voice.

"Yes, I want a cold drink of water." Her voice sounded faint and
feeble now.

"What does she have to drink?" asked Doctor Wyatt.

"We give her water now and th