one, of course, would express their opinion, and so the village talk
went on.

Perhaps it was with less regret upon this account, that Annie prepared
to leave the place, to live with an aunt that resided a few miles
distant. She collected together her little stock of goods, which she
had prepared for house-keeping, consisting of table linen, bedding
and such like things that the careful housewife knows so well how to
appreciate.

Among the many and beautiful bed quilts pieced by her industrious
fingers, was one set together in what is called Job's trouble, with
many a grave warning ringing in her ears, accompanied by an ominous
shake of the head, and an assurance she never would marry Edward if
she pieced her quilt together so. She sighed now as she unfolded it,
and stood for a moment gazing upon its beauty. Then smoothly replacing
the folds, and laying it in a large chest, she sighed as she said,

"Indeed, I shall never marry him."

Years had passed, and many suitors had sighed for the hand of Annie,
and she had consented to become the wife of Alfred Lombard, after
succeeding years should more fully obliterate the remembrance of
past disappointment. He was a young man of good family, and handsome
exterior, and though Annie did not love him with the ardor of a first
love, still she respected his character, and admired his virtues.

His estimable mother too, had shown much affection for the fatherless
Annie, and she had spent many months beneath their hospitable roof,
supplying to them the place of a daughter, while they conferred upon