“Yes, she did. She wanted to go to the country, as the other children did, but it did not seem quite possible.”
“That’s it! That’s just it!” exclaimed Doctor Wyatt. “She spoke of flowers, of lilacs and daisies. I couldn’t tell much what she said, but I could hear those words.”
At that moment, Clematis opened her eyes and stared about her.
Doctor Wyatt took one thin, frail hand in his big brown ones.
“Clematis,” he said in a loud, firm tone, “I know a lovely place in the country. If you will get well, you can go there for two whole weeks.”
Clematis stared at him, but did not seem to hear him.
“I want a drink,” she said feebly.
He put the glass to her lips.
“You can pick daisies, and goldenrod, and all sorts of flowers in the country, if you’ll just get well, can’t she, Miss Rose?”
“Yes, Clematis, you can.” Miss Rose tried to speak cheerfully, but it was hard. She wanted to cry.