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."