it will be quite pleasant to have to put in a good number of stitches."

"Do you mean that you will make a patch-work quilt?”

"Yes. I shall cut the pieces into box-patterns, and then sew them together. I intend to do every stitch as neatly and regularly as possible, so that mother will see that I have taken pains."

"But, Alice, do you know what work there is in a quilt of the kind?"

"I know there will be many thousands of stitches needed." "Yes; but sewing the pieces together will be only a small part of the work."

"I know that the cutting out and arranging will be the most difficult part."

"Yes; it will require great patience and skill."

"Well, I shall do my best. It will be a good discipline for me." Edith could not help thinking that, unless Alice had been greatly altered, she would not have thought of undertaking so great a work. "I am sure mamma will be delighted if you should succeed," said Edith.

"I quite intend to succeed," said Alice, firmly.

And she did succeed very well. She began at once, and kept steadily on. Every half-hour which she could possibly spare was devoted to this work. She knew that her mother would not be pleased if she neglected any of her regular duties for it, so she only took it up in her leisure time. But she worked at it so industriously that the quilt was nearly finished in a much shorter time than she expected it to occupy.

When she was thinking how delightful it would be to present it to her mother, and receive a loving kiss as thanks, a sad catastrophe happened to it.

Alice, may I come into your room for a little while?" asked her brother one day.

"Why do you want to come, Charlie?"

"I am making some pen-and-ink sketches, and my table is not firm."

'Oh, yes; you can do them on my table if you wish." "Thank you."

"I shall be at work; but I suppose we shall not hinder each other."

"No, I think not.'

So Charlie brought his work and did it, while Alice diligently sewed the pieces of satin together.

"I must go and find another needle. The point of this one has become blunt," said Alice, when the brother and sister had worked together for some time.

"Come back as soon as you can, then," said Charlie.

But afterwards he wished she would remain away a little longer, for he felt so afraid to meet her.

She laid the precious quilt upon a chair near the table; and she had scarcely left the room before Charlie, endeavouring to reach something from the other side of the table, overthrew his inkstand. It happened to have been just filled; and before he could prevent it a stream of black ink ran across the table, and fell upon the quilt. “Oh! what shall I do?" cried Charles, when he saw the mischief he had done, for a large space in the centre of the quilt was quite stained, and drops of ink were lying on almost every part. The delicate colours seemed to be especially injured, and Charles looked upon it as a most hopeless case. He quite trembled when he heard Alice singing as she walked along the hall towards the door; not that he was really afraid of his sister, but because he was so sorry for the misfortune, which he knew would greatly grieve her.

"How shall I ever tell her?" he thought. But there was no need of words. Alice saw by a glance at her brother's face that something was wrong, and when she looked at the quilt she quite understood the extent of the disaster.

She turned so pale that
But in a moment or two

At first she felt too bad to speak. Charlie thought she was going to faint. tears came into her eyes, and she sat on the rug, and had a quiet

cry.

66

Alice," said Charlie, almost crying too, "I would not have done it for the world, if I could have helped it. I am so sorry." "I know, dear. Never mind. I am disappointed, that is all. I shall be better directly," said she, through her tears.

She was soon able to control herself, and then she went over to her brother, and put her arms around his neck, and kissed him. "I am quite as sorry for you, Charlie, as I am for myself," she said, "but neither of us need be miserable about it. It was an accident, that is all; and accidents will happen, you know."

"But what will you do, Alice. I am afraid the quilt is spoiled." "Yes, I think it is. But I shall at once begin to take out all the soiled pieces and put new ones in. It only means a little more money and a little more work."

"Alice, I hope you will let me pay for all that has to be bought in consequence of my carelessness. It is only right that I should

do so."

"Oh, no, thank you; it is not at all necessary."

"But indeed I shall be quite miserable if you do not let me. I shall feel as if you have not forgiven me."

"Then you may buy the new satin, as a sign that I have; but

I am half-inclined to increase your penance by compelling you to go to the draper's yourself and select the pieces."

"No, Alice, that would be too bad. It would be more, indeed, than I could possibly do or bear," said Charlie, laughing; "but if you like I will go with you, and carry home the parcel, so that there shall be no delay."

"Very well, so you shall."

"And I think I could unpick those pieces that are inked."

"No, I do not think you could, Charlie. I am afraid you might do greater damage."

"No; I promise to be very, very careful."

"Well, you may try; but I think we will first go and match the colours."

That evening saw Alice working as diligently and patiently as at first, and speaking just as pleasantly to her brother as if nothing had happened.

"It is wonderful," said Charlie to his sister Edith, "I never saw such a change in any one before as there is in our Alie. It seems impossible now to put her into a passion. I am sure there must be something in her religion, for none but Jesus could make her so good. And, Edith, I mean to seek Him too.

“Oh, Charlie, I am so glad; and so will Alice be when she knows. Let me tell her."

That night when Alice knelt down to thank her Father in heaven for His mercies she felt more happy than she had ever felt before. And the joy was lasting, for she saw her brother fearing and serving the Lord all his life afterward.

The quilt was finished in time, and Mrs. Russell felt more proud of it than of anything which she possessed.

CHAPTER XVI. CONCLUSION.-SIXTY YEARS AFTER.

Is not that a long time?

Το you who look forward it must seem as if sixty years would be almost unending.

But sixty years have passed since Alice Russell made the satin quilt for her mother, and she is still living in this world, and has even more friends to love her than she had when she was a girl, and was first beginning to learn her lessons in patience. Her name, however, is no longer Russell, but Mortimer. More than forty years ago she changed her name, and I think she likes her present name even better than that which belonged to the days of her girlhood.

I suppose you can guess how it was that her name was altered. Alice had a lover when she was twenty.. He was a good man, and

Mr. and Mrs. Russell were glad that their daughter should have his love. Alice was glad, too, for she felt that her friend had been given to her by God, and she had no doubt that he would help her not only to be happy, but also to be good.

But she found that sorrow comes when it is least expected. One evening, when Mr. Mortimer called, she could not help seeing that there was a great change in him, for his face was sad; and instead of talking merrily to her as he usually did, he was very silent. "Edwin," she said, when her mother had left the room to fetch something which she required, "is anything the matter?" "Why do you ask?" inquired the young man.

"Because you look as if some sorrow has fallen upon you."

"A sorrow has come. Circumstances have arisen in connection with my father's business, which make it necessary that I should leave England."

Alice's face looked as sad as that of Mr. Mortimer, when she had heard these words. But she tried to comfort him.

"Must you go?

Yes, I feel that I must. My father has no one on whom he can depend but me. I am his only son, and it seems wrong to refuse to go, when perhaps my going may be of real benefit to him." "Never mind. We must try to look on the bright side." "I do not see any at present."

"But there must be one if we could only find it. Do not despair. Perhaps time will pass quickly, and we may soon meet again."

"It is the thought of leaving you that troubles me; and I may be absent several years. I must be away two at least."

The news seemed so bad that Alice could scarcely bear it; but she tried to be cheerful still for his friends' sake.

"God will take care of you," she said, "and perhaps bring you back sooner than you expect.'

"But what will you do, Alice?

"I? Oh, I shall wait for you."

"But it may be a very, very long time."

"It does not matter. I have learned patience, and I will wait until you come, however long it may be."

So they parted, and Alice waited as she had promised. The time was much longer than she expected, and it was a very sad time to her, for in those days letters could not be sent from foreign countries as frequently and as cheaply as now; and sometimes, not having heard from Mr. Mortimer for many months, her courage and hope would be almost exhausted. I do not know what Alice would have done then if she had not learned to be patient while she was a child. But patience had become a habit with her; and so

she waited, trusting quietly in the love of God and that of her friend.

But it was not until she had begun to fear that she would never see his face again that Mr. Mortimer came back. During his absence she had many suitors, who would have been glad to win her love. But she remained faithful to him to whom she had first given her heart.

"Something may have happened to him, and perhaps he is dead," said Edith, one day, very gently.

She was surprised at the calmness of her sister's answer.

"I have thought of that, but it makes no difference. I will wait for him if I have to die before I meet him again."

But at last he came.

Preparations were being made for Christmas, and Alice was assisting, for she knew it would be wrong to appear always gloomy and unresponsive. And so, though she could not help feeling sad, she assisted Charlie and Edith to hang up the holly and mistletoe, and stirred the Christmas pudding with as much energy as either of them. She was putting the finishing touches to some mincepies; and Edith, who had been married more than a year, but who had come with her husband to spend Christmas at home, was praising her cleverness, when Charlie, who had been looking on, suddenly exclaimed, "Who is that in the gravel-path?"

The stranger was dark, and he had a beard. He was also wrapped in a fur coat, and wore a fur cap on his head. But Alice knew him; and she flew out quite forgetting the flour on her hands and the white apron which was around her. Mr. Mortimer, however, did not care for these things so long as he had Alice again.

66 Have you waited for me?" he was going to ask; but the welcome which was expressed in her smiles and tears made all words unnecessary.

Oh, what a happy Christmas they had that year! Alice has not forgotten it though it was fifty years ago.

She has been a grandmamma a very long time now. Her children and grandchildren are many, and they hope to keep Christmas with her this year, as they have done so often before.

“Grandmamma Alice," as a little namesake calls her, likes, to please those whom she loves, and smiles gently at the fair girls and chivalrous boys who take great care of her. But she would rather keep Christmas in another home, if she could have her will.

"You are very kind to me, my dears," she said the other day, "and it delights me to see you so merry. I am glad to have you all about me, though you are so many that my house will scarcely hold you. But if my Father would call me I should much prefer to spend Christmas in heaven."