“Promptness, indeed!” replied the beadle. “But what’s the consequence; what’s the ungrateful behaviour of these rebels, sir? Why, the husband sends back word that the medicine won’t suit his wife’s complaint, and so she shan’t take it⁠—says she shan’t take it, sir! Good, strong, wholesome medicine, as was given with great success to two Irish labourers and a coal-heaver, only a week before⁠—sent ’em for nothing, with a blackin’-bottle in⁠—and he sends back word that she shan’t take it, sir!”

As the atrocity presented itself to Mr. Bumble’s mind in full force, he struck the counter sharply with his cane, and became flushed with indignation.

“Well,” said the undertaker, “I ne⁠—ver⁠—did⁠—”

“Never did, sir!” ejaculated the beadle. “No, nor nobody never did; but now she’s dead, we’ve got to bury her; and that’s the direction; and the sooner it’s done, the better.”