Oh, my darling, if we could have died then.
"My little Laura, I was afraid I should never see you again," whispered a faint voice.
Ah, me, the ecstasy of the next half-hour! I sat close by her side and told her how the snowdrops were growing and the purple and golden crocuses made the garden seem quite gay.

I told her where I had found the first violets, some of which I had brought to her.

I cannot tell what it was like to me to feel my mother's hand on my head once more.
Then came a brief time of happiness.

My mother improved a little, and was carried from the bedroom where she had spent so many weeks to her boudoir, and I was allowed to be with her all day.
"She would be better soon and able to go out," my father said, and then the happy old times would come back again.

My mother would walk with me through the picture gallery at sunset, and more, she would dance with flying feet and run races with me in the wood.