She placed the whole on a little table which she drew close to the bed.
"Would not do for them to catch cold, that would be a pretty story," she muttered to herself, for she had a funny habit of talking away about everything she did. Then, when all was air-tight again, there came a knock at the door. Madame Nestor opened it, and took from the hands of an invisible person a little tray with two steaming bowls of the famous chocolate and two sturdy hunches of very "hole-y" looking bread. No butter; that did not come within Madame Nestor's ideas. She placed the whole on a little table which she drew close to the bed, and then wrapping a shawl round the children, she told them to take their breakfast. They did not, of course, understand her words, but when she gave Roger his bowl and a preliminary hunch of bread into his hands, they could not but see that they were expected to take their breakfast in bed.
"But we're not ill," exclaimed Gladys; "we never stay in bed to breakfast except when we're ill."
Madame Nestor smiled and nodded. She had not a notion what Gladys meant, and on her side she quite forgot that the children could not understand her any better than she understood them.
"We never stay in bed to breakfast unless we're ill," repeated Gladys more loudly, as if that would help Madame Nestor to know what she meant.
"Never mind, Gladdie—the chocolate's very good," said Roger.
As before, "chocolate" was the only word Madame Nestor caught.
"Yes, take your chocolate," she repeated; "don't let it get cold," and she lifted Gladys's bowl to give it to her.