"Sadie, tell me, what is the trouble?" she said, laying a gentle hand upon her shoulder.
"Oh, I have a horrible toothache," she girl replied, adding: "I did not mean to wake you, but the pain is simply unbearable," and, throwing back the covers, she sat up and rocked to and fro in agony.
"What can I do for you?" Katherine kindly inquired, while she mentally declared that "God never made pain, nor man to suffer pain."
"Oh, I don't know," was the helpless rejoinder. "I think there is a bottle of oil of cloves somewhere in my upper drawer, if you will find it for me."
Katherine lighted the candle, kept for emergencies, and searched for the desired remedy amid the heterogeneous collection in the drawer, but failed to find it. Then she looked in various other places suggested by Sadie, with the same result, greatly to the girl's disappointment.
"Oh, I remember—I lent it to Carrie Hill last week! What shall I do?" wailed the sufferer in a voice of despair; for Miss Hill roomed at the top of the opposite wing, and just at that moment the clock in the tower of the building struck the hour of three.
She was now wrought up to a state of excessive nervous excitement, and it looked as if there would be no more sleep for either of them that night.
"Haven't you something—some camphor or salts, Katherine? I can't stand this any longer," and Sadie was now sobbing from mingled nervousness and suffering.
"No, dear. I never use anything of the kind," Katherine replied.
"Do you never put anything in a tooth when it aches?"