looked anxious, as he took his
seat beside the bed.

"I shall stay till about ten, Miss Rose, so you must rest now."

"I don't want to go," said Miss Rose.

"You must, you will be needed later. She will need great care
tonight, I think."

At ten, Miss Rose returned. She had not rested much, and was glad to
get back to the bedside.

"Here is my telephone number, Miss Rose. You can get me very soon by
calling me up. Watch her carefully, and if you see any change at
all, send for me at once."

"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 passed, while Miss
Rose watched.

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

Miss Rose held the glass 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.

M