"Dead."
"What did she die of?"
"Drink, sir," said Mary Elizabeth, in her distinct and gentle tone.
"Ah—well. And your father?"
"He is dead. He died in prison."
"What sent him to prison?"
"Drink, sir."
"Oh!"
"I had a brother once," continued Mary Elizabeth, who grew quite eloquent with so large an audience, "but he died, too."
"I do want my supper," she added, after a pause, speaking in a whisper, as if to Jo or to herself, "and Jo'll be wondering for me."