"He couldn't walk so far," said Fran, "but he won't mind if we want to. Win is angelic about not stopping us from doing things he can't do himself."
"Has he always had to be so careful?" asked Edith. She and Frances sat at a little distance from the boys. Roger was peering around into the cab of the tiny engine; Win watched the water as it broke on the beach.
"Always," said Frances. "He was just a tiny baby when they knew something was wrong with his heart. It isn't painful and may never be any worse. Only he must take great care not to get over-tired. Ever so many doctors have seen him and they all say the same thing,—that if he is prudent and never does too much, he may outlive us all. Just now in London, he and Mother went to a specialist but all he told Win was that he must cultivate the art of being lazy. Mother says the worst was when he was too little to realize that he mustn't do things. Now, of course, he understands and takes care of himself. It's hard on Win but Mother says it's good for Roger and me. It does make Roger more thoughtful. He says anything he likes to Win and pretends to tease him, but if you notice, you'll see that he does every single thing Win wants and always looks to see if he's all right. It helps me too, for I'm ashamed to fuss over trifles when Win has so much to bear."
The little tram was traveling at a moderate pace toward town, stopping at several tiny stations where more and more people entered.
"I can't get used to hearing people talk French," said Frances. "It seems so odd when Jersey is a part of England."
"The French spoken here isn't that of Paris," remarked her brother, rising from his seat. "It's Norman French."
"I know I can't understand it easily," confessed Edith, "and Sister has always taken pains to teach me. I'm glad it isn't all my fault."
The train came to a stand on the esplanade of St. Helier's. The four stopped to look over the sea-wall, to the beach far below, across to the long stone piers forming the artificial sea basin and up to Fort Regent overhanging the town like a war-cloud.
"That fort looks stuck on the cliff like a swallow's nest," commented
Roger. "Look, there's a snow-white sea-gull!"
"There's another with a black tail," exclaimed Edith. "Oh, aren't they beautiful!"