Read it through once

‘Poor fellow!’ said Rose, when Oliver had been one day feebly endeavouring to utter the words of thankfulness that rose to his pale lips; ‘you shall have many opportunities of serving us, if you will. We are going into the country, and my aunt intends that you shall accompany us. The quiet place, the pure air, and all the pleasure and beauties of spring, will restore you in a few days. We will employ you in a hundred ways, when you can bear the trouble.’