Colin was on his sofa in his dressing-gown and he was sitting up quite straight looking at a picture in one of the garden books and talking to the plain child who at that moment could scarcely be called plain at all because her face was so glowing with enjoyment.
"Those long spires of blue ones--we'll have a lot of those," Colin was announcing.

"They're called Del-phin-iums." "Dickon says they're larkspurs made big and grand," cried Mistress Mary.

"There are clumps there already." Then they saw Dr.Craven and stopped.

Mary became quite still and Colin looked fretful.
"I am sorry to hear you were ill last night, my boy," Dr.Craven said a trifle nervously.

He was rather a nervous man.
"I'm better now--much better," Colin answered, rather like a Rajah.
"I'm going out in my chair in a day or two if it is fine.