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.