Gladys's face brightened. It was something to have some one who understood a little, however little.
"Oh yes," she said, timidly afraid of appearing uncivil, "it is very good; but we are not hungry. We are not accustomed to rich things. Might we—" she went on timidly, "do you think we might have a little bread and butter?"
Monsieur Adolphe hesitated. He found it much more difficult than he had had any idea of to understand what Gladys said, though she spoke very plainly and clearly.
"Leetle—leetle?" he repeated.
"A little bread and butter," said Gladys again. This time he understood.
"Bread and butter; I will go see," he answered, and then he hurried back to his mother, still busy at the side-table.
"They do not seem accustomed to eat meat," he said, "they ask for bread and butter."
"The greedy little things!" exclaimed Mademoiselle Anna, who had got up from her seat on pretence of handing a plate to Madame Nestor, but in reality to hear all that was going on. "How can they be so bold?"
"It is the custom in England," said the old lady. "My cousin has often told me how the children there eat so much bread and butter. But I have no fresh butter in the house. Would not preserves please them? Here, Françoise," she went on, calling to the little servant. "Fetch some preserves from the cupboard, and give some with some bread to the poor little angels."