"I wish he was our Papa!" said Roger again, with a sigh.
"He couldn't be," said Gladys, "he's too young."
"He was much bigger than you; he was bigger than her," persisted Roger, pointing to Françoise, for like many little children he could not separate the idea of age from size, and Gladys knew it was no use trying to explain to him his mistake.
"Anyway, he isn't our Papa," she said sadly. "I wonder what we shall do now," she went on.
"Isn't it tea time?" asked Roger.
"I'm afraid they don't have tea here," said Gladys. "There's some wine and water and some bread on the table in the little room behind the shop. I'm afraid that's meant for our tea."
She was right; for when Françoise took them downstairs Madame Nestor immediately offered them wine and water, and when Gladys did her best to make the old lady understand that they did not like wine, she persisted in putting two or three lumps of sugar into the water in the glasses, which Roger did not object to, as he fished them out before they were more than half melted, and ate instead of drinking them, but which Gladys thought very nasty indeed, though she did not like not to take it as she had already refused the wine.
"I wish I could get out my doll," said she, "I don't know what to play with, Roger."