It was odd that, although Comfort looked so disturbed, neither her
mother nor grandmother asked her what was the matter. They looked at
her, then exchanged a meaning look with each other. And all her
mother said was to bid her go and sit down by the fire and toast her
feet. She also mixed a bowl of hot ginger-tea plentifully sweetened
with molasses, and bade her drink that, so she could not catch cold;
and yet there was something strange in her manner all the time. She
made no remark, either, when she opened Comfort's dinner-pail and saw
how little had been eaten. She merely showed it silently to
Grandmother Atkins behind Comfort's back, and they nodded to each
other with solemn meaning.

However, Mrs. Pease made the cream-toast that Comfort loved for
supper, and obliged her to eat a whole plate of it.

"I can't have her get sick," she said to Grandmother Atkins after
Comfort had gone to bed that night.

"She ain't got enough constitution, poor child," assented Grandmother
Atkins.

Mrs. Pease opened the door and listened. "I believe she's crying
now," said she. "I guess I'll go up there."

"I would if I was you," said Grandmother Atkins.

Comfort's sobs sounded louder and louder all the way, as her mother
went upstairs.