"I don't know what you can have to eat, unless it's to-morrow's dinner."
"To-morrow's dinner!" I stared. "Can I see Mrs. Wilson?"
"Mrs. Wilson? That's mamma. She's dead."
"I beg your pardon. Can I see your father?"
"Oh, father's been dead for years."
"Then to whom have I the pleasure of speaking?"
"I'm Madge. I'm mother now."
"You are--mother now?"
"The trouble will be about where you are to sleep--unless it's with the boys. The rooms are all anyhow, and I'm sure I don't know where the beds are."
"I suppose there are servants in the house?"