How strange it seemed and what fun it was going to be.

The children sat down to breakfast, little Jeanneton, as the youngest,
saying grace. The mother distributed the porridge and gave each a spoon
but she looked anxious.

"Where can Toinette have gone?" she said to herself. Toinette was
conscious-pricked. She was half inclined to dispel the charm on the
spot. But just then she caught a whisper from Pierre to Marc which so
surprised her as to put the idea out of her head.

"Perhaps a wolf has eaten her up--a great big wolf like the 'Capuchon
Rouge,' you know." This was what Pierre said; and Marc answered
unfeelingly:

"If he has, I shall ask mother to let me have her room for my own."

Poor Toinette, her cheeks burned and her eyes filled with tears at
this. Didn't the boys love her a bit then? Next she grew angry, and
longed to box Marc's ears, only she recollected in time that she was
invisible. What a bad boy he was, she thought.

The smoking porridge reminded her that she was hungry; so brushing away
the tears she slipped a spoon off the table and whenever she found the
chance, dipped it into the bowl for a mouthful. The porridge
disappeared rapidly.

"I want some more," said Jeanneton.

"Bless me, how fast you have eaten," said the mother, turning to the