Much had happened to them in the two years that had elapsed since the day on which Gilbert carried Henry off to Dublin. The Bloomsbury household had come to an end. Suddenly and, as it seemed to them, inexplicably, Mrs. Clutters had died. It had never occurred to any of them that Mrs. Clutters could die. They seldom saw her. The kitchen was her domain, and Magnolia was her messenger. If they had any preferences or prejudices concerning food, they made them known to Magnolia, and Magnolia made them known to Mrs. Clutters. Ninian returning home in an epicurean mood, might announce that he had seen mushrooms in a greengrocer's window. "Magnolia," he would say, "let there be mushrooms!" and Magnolia would answer, "Yes, sir, certainly, sir!" and behold in the morning there would be mushrooms for breakfast. Or Gilbert would give their opinion of a dish. "Magnolia, we do not like scrambled eggs. We like our eggs boiled, fried, poached, beaten up in milk, Mr. Graham even likes them raw, but none of us like them scrambled!..." and Magnolia would say, "Yes, sir, certainly, sir!" and so scrambled eggs ceased to be seen on their breakfast table. Magnolia always said, "Yes, sir, certainly, sir!" If they had informed her that the Judgment Day was to begin that afternoon at three o'clock, Magnolia, they felt sure, would say, "Yes, sir, certainly, sir!" and go on with her work.... There seemed to be no adequate excuse for Mrs. Clutters' death ... "an' everythink goin' on so nice an' all!" as Magnolia said ... and yet she had died. There had been delay in serving breakfast, and Roger, anxious to catch a train, had been impatient. "Magnolia!" he shouted from the door, "Magnolia!" "Yes, sir!" Magnolia answered in an agitated voice. They waited for her to add "Certainly, sir!" but she did not do so, and they looked oddly at each other, feeling that something unusual had happened. "We're waiting for breakfast," Roger said in a less impatient voice. "Yes, sir, I'm comin', sir!..." Magnolia appeared at the door, very red in the face and very worried in her looks, and placed a covered dish in front of Roger who was the father of the four, appointed to carve and to serve. "What's this?" Roger demanded when he had removed the cover. "Please, sir, it's eggs, sir! Fried eggs, sir! That's what it's supposed to be, sir!" Magnolia replied dubiously. "It's a bad imitation, Magnolia!" Gilbert said. "I think I'll just have bread and marmalade this morning!" He reached for the marmalade as he spoke, and Henry, eyeing the eggs with disrelish, murmured, "After you, Gilbert!" "Tell Mrs. Clutters I want her," Roger said to Magnolia. "Please, sir, she's not very well in herself this mornin'...." "Not very well!" "Do you mean to say she's ill?" Ninian shouted. "Yes, sir. It was me fried the eggs, sir!" "But ... but she can't be ill," Ninian continued.