He told her that he was very sorry not to be able to pay her and Cornelli a visit before leaving, for he had to start at once.
Never before had spring come so fast.

So at least it seemed to Cornelli, who was walking home alone one day from school.

The winter had gone by and already a mild wind was blowing through the streets, and the melting snow was dropping from the roofs.
From the top of a roof a little bird was whistling and singing a song of delight to the bright blue sky above.

Cornelli's school had been over sooner than the other children's, so she was in no hurry and stood still to listen.

A ray of sunshine was flowing into the street, and the bird kept on singing and whistling, on and on, a heavenly, familiar sound.
Suddenly the lovely beech wood at home rose before Cornelli's eyes, and she saw the trees in their first green leaves, the first violets under the hedge, her beloved first violets; she saw the yellow crocuses sparkling beside the bright red primroses in the garden.