“Oh, how lovely!” she said admiringly.  “How can you do such fine even work?”

“We are taught to make such fine stitches when we are very little girls,” answered Marie much gratified at the praise.  “And I also make the pillow lace.  Have you ever seen that made?”

Ruth looked with greatest interest at the plump cushion with its rows of pins, and watched intently while the thin hands deftly tossed the bobbins around in most mysterious fashion.

“Oh, you do that so fast and so carelessly,” she said at last, “and yet that beautiful pattern comes so perfectly.”  “Isn’t it wonderful, Ruth?” asked Mrs. Hamilton, coming into the room.  “I hoped Marie would show you her lace pillow and her embroidery.”

“It’s perfectly fascinating,” declared Ruth, “and I’d like to learn, but I know I should tie all those threads in a tight knot right away.”

“Come over and I will teach you a simple pattern that in my country quite little children learn to make,” urged Marie, who longed for another visit from her new friend.

“I’ll come again gladly, but I’m not sure that I shall ever have courage to attempt anything so wonderful,” laughed Ruth as she rose to go.

“I’m so glad you took me there, Aunt Mary,” she said as they got into the sleigh.  “You seem to know just what to do for people when they are miserable.”

“I knew that what you wanted most I couldn’t give you, dear, so I tried the next best thing.”

“Marie was so cheerful and patient that it made me ashamed to be anything else when I’m so well and have father.  Only it seems as though I never wanted my mother more than I do to-day.”  Ruth’s voice trembled and the tears filled her eyes.

“Dear, we think you are brave, and we have appreciated your struggles more than you suspect,” said Mrs. Hamilton tenderly.  “We are so grateful for what you have done for Arthur, and the whole house seems more cheerful when our borrowed daughter is in it.”

Ruth’s face brightened, and her hand sought Mrs. Hamilton’s under the robe and squeezed it hard.  She was silent for a moment and then she cried gayly, “From now on I ‘solomon promidge,’ as some one used to say, to be good and cheerful for the rest of the day.”

“That’s right, darling; and now let’s see if any Christmas greetings have arrived while we’ve been away,” said Mrs. Hamilton as they entered the house.

“I should say they had,” said Arthur, who had just come down to lunch, and was scrutinizing the addresses on several interesting looking packages.  “Here’s a heavy box for Ruth, and several small packages for you, mother.”

“Oh, would you open it now, or would you wait until to-morrow?” cried Ruth, as she weighed the package in her hands and studied the outside.  “It’s too fascinating, and I really can’t wait,” she decided, and cutting the string with the knife Arthur held out to her, she soon disclosed a box of unmistakable intent.