'"His name is Jinkins, Sir," said the widow, slightly blushing.
'"He is a very fine man, Sir," replied the widow, "and a very nice gentleman."
'"Is there anything more you want, Sir?" inquired the widow, rather puzzled by Tom's manner.
'The widow looked much amazed, but she sat down, and Tom sat down too, close beside her.
"You deserve a very admirable husband, and whoever he is, he'll be a very lucky man." As Tom said this, his eye involuntarily wandered from the widow's face to the comfort around him.
'The widow looked more puzzled than ever, and made an effort to rise.
"IF--" "'Well," said the widow, laughing outright this time, "WHEN I do, I hope I shall have as good a husband as you describe."
'"I am sure nobody who knows him, knows anything bad of him," said the widow, bridling up at the mysterious air with which Tom had spoken.
'The widow began to think it was high time to cry, so she took out her handkerchief, and inquired whether Tom wished to insult her, whether he thought it like a gentleman to take away the character of another gentleman behind his back, why, if he had got anything to say, he didn't say it to the man, like a man, instead of terrifying a poor weak woman in that way; and so forth.
'"What is it?" inquired the widow, looking intently in Tom's countenance.
The corpse stood motionless, but addressed the widow in accents that seemed to melt into the clang of the bell, which fell heavily on the air while he spoke.
He stepped forward at a ghostly pace, and stood beside the widow, contrasting the awful simplicity of his shroud with the glare and glitter in which she had arrayed herself for this unhappy scene.