Somebody's eyes had increased four-fold.

With a tragic gesture, Marie was about to adjust the pompon when the
quick tap of a crutch came down the hall, and Lizzie hurried in, flushed
and breathless, but smiling happily as she uncovered the box she carried
with a look of proud satisfaction.

A general "Ah!" of admiration arose as Belle, mamma, and Marie surveyed
the lovely wreath that lay before them; and when it was carefully
arranged on the bright head that was to wear it, Belle blushed with
pleasure. Mamma said: "It is more beautiful than any Paris could have
sent us;" and Marie clasped her hands theatrically, sighing, with her
head on one side:

"Truly, yes; mademoiselle is now adorable!"

"I am so glad you like it. I did my very best and worked all night, but
I had to beg one spray from Estelle, or, with all my haste, I could not
have finished in time," said Lizzie, refreshing her weary eyes with a
long, affectionate gaze at the pretty figure before her.

A fold of the airy skirt was caught on one of the blue clusters, and
Lizzie knelt down to arrange it as she spoke. Belle leaned toward her
and said softly: "Money alone can't pay you for this kindness; so tell
me how I can best serve you. This is the happiest night of my life, and
I want to make every one feel glad also."

"Then don't talk of paying me, but promise that I may make the flowers
you wear on your wedding-day," whispered Lizzie, kissing the kind hand
held out to help her rise, for on it she saw a brilliant ring, and in
the blooming, blushing face bent over her she read the tender little
story that Somebody had told Belle that day.

"So you shall! and I'll keep this wreath all my life for your sake,
dear," answered Belle, as her full heart bubbled over with pitying
affection for the poor girl who would never make a bridal garland for
herself.

Belle kept her word, even when she was in a happy home of her own; for
out of the dead roses bloomed a friendship that brightened Lizzie's
life; and long after the blue garland was faded Belle remembered the
helpful little lesson that taught her to read the faces poverty
touches with a pathetic eloquence, which says to those who look,
"Forget-me-not."

End of Project Gutenberg's Marjorie's Three Gifts, by Louisa May Alcott

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MARJORIE'S THREE GIFTS ***

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