Mr. Banks saw the advantage he had gained, and hastened to clench the object of his visit.
"Yes, my dear madam, no man respected your dear husband more than me: in fact, I wenerated that man. Poor dear Thomas Smith——"
"Matthew, sir," said the widow mildly.
"Ah! so it was, ma'am—Matthew Smith! Good fellow—charming companion—excellent man—gone, gone—never to come back no more!"
And Mr. Banks sobbed audibly.
"Well," observed the widow, wiping her eyes, "it's wery strange that poor dear Mat never should have mentioned your name to me, considering you was so intimate."
"Our friendship, ma'am, was a solemn compact—too solemn to be made a matter of idle conversation. But since I have made myself known to you, my dear madam, do, pray, let me take this unpleasant business off your hands, and conduct the funeral of your lamented lodger."
"Well, sir," said the widow, after a moment's reflection, "since you are in the undertaking line, and as you've called so polite and all, I shall be wery much obleeged——"
"Say no more, my dear Mrs. Smith," exclaimed Mr. Banks. "I will do the thing respectable for you—and wery moderate charges. You need not bother yourself about it in any way. We will bury the dear departed in one of the Globe Lane grounds; and I will even provide the clergyman."
"Do you know a good—pious—sincere minister, that you can recommend, Mr. Banks?" asked the widow.