But the third sign--the first primrose and violet--was always the happiest.

You can't think how I _grabbed_ at the first primrose this year; I found it by a cave on the Ness.

And though these are rather the last than the first, yet I knew you'd like them, Eddy, so I hunted for them everywhere.

And how much better you're looking too; such shining eyes, and, yes! I positively declare, quite a ruddy cheek like your old one.

You'll soon be out among us again, that's clear----" He stopped abruptly: he had been rattling on just in the merry way that Russell now most loved to hear, but, as he was talking, he caught the touch of sadness on Russell's face, and saw his long, abstracted, eager look at the flowers.
"Dear fellow, you're not worse, are you ?" he said quickly.