“I was just looking to see how many days till Saturday.”
“Well, you needn’t muss it up that way.”
Every morning Clematis had taken it down and counted the days with her fingers.
Friday evening she did not eat much supper, and was very silent.
“Longing to get back home, I guess,” said Mrs. Alder. “Well, dear, you will be back with the other children tomorrow. I know what it is. I was homesick myself when I was a child.”
Clematis did not answer. She didn’t know how to tell what it was that troubled her, so she said nothing.
The stars were bright, and the tiny moon was low in the sky, before the weary eyes closed in sleep.
Clematis had been thinking, and thinking. Tomorrow was Saturday.
Early in the morning she was awake again, by the window.
She leaned her head on her hands, and began to think again.