But, Eddy, you'll be well by the holidays--a
month hence, you know--or else I shouldn't have talked so gladly
about them."
"No, Eric," said Russell sadly, "these dear flowers are the last spring
blossoms that I shall see--_here_ at least. Yes, I will keep them, for
your sake, Eric, till I die."
"Oh don't talk so," said Eric, shocked and flustered, "why everybody
knows and says that you're getting better."
Russell smiled and shook his head. "No, Eric, I shall die. There stop,
dear fellow, don't cry," said he, raising his hands quietly to Eric's
face; "isn't it better for me so? I own it seemed sad at first to leave
this bright world and the sea--yes, even that cruel sea," he continued
smiling; "and to leave Roslyn, and Upton, and Monty, and, above all, to
leave _you_, Eric, whom I love best in all the world. Yes, remember I've
no home, Eric, and no prospects. There was nothing to be sorry for in
this, so long as God gave me health and strength; but health went for
ever into those waves at the Stack, where you saved my life, dear,
gallant Eric; and what could I do now? It doesn't look so happy to
_halt_ through life.
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