Page 98 - Purple Butterfly Book 2

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“Well, you know I love you, Alice, and am always delighted to have you come,” said Mrs. Reed; “I am sure that were it in my power to do so, I would have you here all the time.
“I would like to give you books, have you attend school, and do everything to make you happy. But alas! Alice, you know I am too poor to do what I wish, and at times it makes me feel very sad.”
“O, indeed you are too good, Mrs. Reed! My greatest pleasure is to come and see you, and I hope you will always love me.
I wish I could stay here all day; but you know that the day after tomorrow will be Christmas, and I must hurry home now, as auntie wants me to help her prepare for it. So goodbye.”
“But, Alice, you will come to see me Christmas morning, will you not?” asked Mrs. Reed. “Yes,” replied Alice, “for a little while.” And with a kiss and another goodbye, she left Mrs.
Reed alone.
“What a dear good girl she is,” said Mrs. Reed to herself, as she watched Alice tripping down the street toward her home.
“She was so good to me last summer when I was ill!, and here is Christmas and I have no money with which to buy her a present.
“O dear, dear! Why was I left so poor! I am sure my husband had some money; what could he have done with it!”
Mrs. Reed sat down in her rocking chair and for a full half hour looked thoughtfully into the fire. Starting up suddenly, she again exclaimed to herself:
“I do really believe that if I go up into the garret, I can find, something for a Christmas present, that will please Alice.
“I remember a curious old box that Mr. Reed had, that was sent to him from India. If I can find some bits of ribbon, and silk, I will line it and make it into a nice little workbox for Alice.”
Then Mrs. Reed climbed up the narrow stairway into the garret, and, after searching some time among the rubbish that lay around in all the nooks and corners, discovered the box.
Taking it downstairs and finding some pieces of silk, she spent the rest of the day in making it into a workbox.
She made a pretty needle-book, a tiny pincushion, and an emery bag like a big strawberry. Then from her own scanty stock she added needles, pins, thread, and her only pair of small scissors, scoured to the last extreme of brightness.
One thing only she had to buy—a thimble; and that she bought for a penny. The thimble was of brass and so bright that it was quite as handsome as gold.
When full, the little box was very pretty. In the bottom lay a quilted lining, which had always been there, and upon which she had placed the fittings.
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