Little Clematis lay and looked at him steadily.
“Did you want something, dear?” he asked.
“I want a drink,” she said. “I want a drink of cold, cold water.”
“Yes, dear, you shall have a drink, of course you shall.”
The old doctor went into the hall with Miss Rose.
“She may have a drink, but only a little at a time. And I wouldn’t let it be too cold. She really gets enough water with her medicine.”
Soon they brought Clematis a little water in a cup. She raised her head and drank it, but then made a face and turned her head away.
“It isn’t any good,” she said.
That evening old Doctor Field came again. He looked carefully at Clematis, and shook his head.
“I guess it’s only a slow fever. It’s nothing catching,” he said. “She’ll be better in a few days.”