Running up the driveway, you look up at the outline of the house and as crack of thunder followed by a flash lighting bright enough to light up the sky, you think, "Damn. This place is big enough to have its own zip code," as you take in the sprawling, five story, Victorian style mansion before you.
Dashing up the front steps, you begin to first knock on the door and then when you notice it, you begin to pull on the bell, which you can hear ringing somewhere inside. After a full minute, an elderly woman dressed in simple grey and white dress and blouse, with a black shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Looking at her, you stick out your hand and introduce yourself as Gerald and then explain, "My car broke down and I was wondering if you had a phone to use," at the same time a crack of thunder followed by another flash of lighting rent the night air.
The woman gazes at you and then explains that her name is Madame Morphia and invites you in. Dripping on the foyer rug, you apologise, but she waves you off by telling you, "Don't worry. It is only going to get worse," and then directs you to an alcove where an old candle stick phone rests.
Picking up, you thank her and lift the hand-piece off the cradle and put it to your ear. When you hear nothing, you click the phone cradle a couple of times and then looking at Madame Morphia, you say, "Something's wrong with the phone. Because I am not getting a dial tone," and then you hand the telephone to her when she reaches out a hand.
Listening, she finally sets the phone down and explains, "Phone must be out again. It is because of this storm. I am lucky to still have lights."
Nodding, you thank her again and then ask, "Is there another house nearby that I could try."
She shakes her head and then looking out the windows on the front doors, tells you, "Not wise to go out there anymore. It is only getting worse and will continue to do so."
Glancing out, you see that it is indeed getting worse as large chunks of hail start to fall. Moaning in despair, you turn back to Madame Morphia and ask, "Would it be all right if I stay for awhile? At least until the storm has passed?"
Madame Morphia looks at you and then states, "The storm will not pass until early in the morning, tomorrow. You can stay the night." And before you can say or do anything, she pulls on a rope next to the alcove, which rings a bell somewhere in the house.
After a bit, a girl, dressed in a fine dressing gown, appears and Madame Morphia tells her, "We have a guest."
Turning to you, she explains, "This is my daughter, Issabella."
Turning back to Issabella, she tells the girl, "This is Gerald. Take him up to one of the guest rooms and see that he is comfortable. Fetch him a towel and some pyjamas."
Feeling out of place and that you are imposing on their hospitality, wanting to state that you didn't want to intrude, you instead thank Madame Morphia again, who waves you off, and follow Issabella upstairs.
Up three flights of stairs, you follow the girl, who looks to be no older then fifteen, down one corridor after another. After a while you realise that there is no way you could navigate this place by yourself. Looking at the girl again, you find it curious that such a young girl could be Madame Morphia daughter. Instead of prying, you silently follow.
Opening a door into a luxurious room, Issabella points to another room and tells you, "You can freshen up in there. If you want, breakfast will be served between seven and nine tomorrow. I'll return with something suitable."
Thanking her, you look into the bathroom as Issabella closes the door. Whistling softly at the size of it, about three times the size of your bedroom back home, you look at the tub...an ornate, claw-footed, iron antique. Walking over, you turn the knobs, noting that they are backwards from what you are used to.
Still feeling like you're imposing, you fill the bathtub, just as Issabella returns. Looking out, you see her set something on the bed. You are just not sure what since she is in the way. Turning toward you, she offers you, "I can take your clothes if you want. They can be washed and pressed and waiting for you in the morning if you want."
Puzzled by what she's saying, you nod and tell her, "Just a moment," and step back into the bathroom.
Stripping off your wet clothes, you gently toss them out and then step back before Issabella can see you naked, thinking it inappropriate for a young woman like her to be exposed to your naked flesh. After a moment, you hear her leave and looking to the bathtub, you turn the water off and slip into the warm water.
Afterward, you wrap a towel around your waist, drain the bath and exit the bathroom. Looking at the bed, you are taken by surprise by what kind of pyjamas Issabella has laid out.
Picking them up, you look at a pair of pink, footed pyjamas that look like they would be worn by a toddler. Something falls to the floor and picking it up, you see that it is a pair of white underwear with strawberries printed all over them. Wondering why you were given clothes for a girl, you look around the room for a way to summon either Issabella or Madame Morphia.
Dismayed that you can't find one, you turn your attention back to the pyjamas. "I could just sleep in the nude," you think. After a minute of thinking, you make your decision. You choose to...