And day by day the pitiful little request was repeated, though it had to be refused. For even if the small legs ached and the feet dragged along rather painfully, air, fresh air, he must have, if he was ever to get stronger, or even not get worse!
“I wish we had old Evans and his bath-chair here for you,” said his mother one day, feeling rather in despair.
“There is a stand of them about a mile off,” said Roland.
“I know,” replied she, “but the hire is very dear. Nearly as much as a hansom, and they would charge extra to come so far, I suspect,” with a sigh.
Now and then the little patient cheered up and grew more like his old active little self again. Sometimes on a Saturday afternoon his father took him an hour or two’s drive in a hansom, which nowadays was, of course, a great treat, and brought some colour into his cheeks. But, alas! it soon faded again, and he seemed more tired than usual on Sunday morning, so that there was no question of church for him, and Jasper liked going to church! Then, as June advanced, there came a spell of August heat, and though it lessened somewhat after a few days, it left him whiter and thinner and more exhausted.
“We must do something,” thought Aunt Margaret, “or he will be slipping out of our hands altogether,” and that afternoon she shut herself into her own room for some time, to decide what that something must be. “Yes,” she said to herself, “I must do it, but I will tell the dear little girls first. It will do them no harm to be consulted,” and she quietly called them to come to her.
She was seated at her writing-table, with two or three small, somewhat old-fashioned, jewel cases before her.
“Leila dear, and Chrissie,” she said as they came in, looking rather surprised at her summons, “I am going to confide in you. We are not happy about Jasper. He is not improving, and he must have country or sea-air if he is ever to grow quite strong.”
“I know,” said Leila, growing pale. “Chris and I are very miserable about him, aren’t we, Chrissie?—for of course—” but here her voice failed her: and as for Chrissie, she was already in tears.
“The lesson has been a lasting one,” thought their aunt, and she was thankful to see it. But she was not one to “break the bruised reed.”