Boxem was by no means a solemn man; but he had a heavy bass voice,
which he used to such great effect in asking questions below stairs,
that he succeeded in creating a fine horror there, so that by the time
he had proceeded to Mrs. Winslow's rooms, it was settled in the minds of
the tobacconist and the milliner, their employees, and any customers of
either who had happened in during Mr. Boxem's preliminary investigation,
that each and every one's previous solemn prediction as to "_something_
being wrong upstairs" had now come true, as they each and every one
reminded the other that "Oh, I told you so!"

Mr. Boxem, finding Mrs. Winslow's door ajar, quietly stepped in and
reverently removed his sombre crape hat.

"Evening, ma'am," he said politely, but with a professional shade of
sympathy in the greeting.

"And what do _you_ want?" she asked in a kind of desperation, noticing
an open letter in his hand.

"Your order, you know," he replied tenderly; "these things are sad and
have to be borne. Can't possibly be helped, more 'n one can help coming
into the world."

Mrs. Winslow could not reply from rage and anger, and hiding her face in
her hands, walked to the window.

"No, it's the _way_ of the world," continued Boxem, with a sigh;
"ah--hem!--might I ask if _it_ is in there?" he concluded, producing a
tape-line case.

"It?--in God's name, what _it_!" sobbed the woman.

"Why--the--the"--stammered her visitor somewhat abashed, "the body--the
corpse, you know! Have come to measure it. Painful, I know; but business
is business, if it's only coffin business; and I can't possibly do a
neat job without I get a good measure. Something like the tailoring
trade, you see!"

"Body?--corpse?--come to measure it? Oh, I shall go wild, I shall go
wild," persisted the woman, half frantic at the intimation which came to
her that a corpse was not only in her place, but in the very room where
she slept, and that this fiend who was pursuing her--this Nemesis, who
struck her pride, her ambition, her desires, her very life, at every
move she made, had actually sent an undertaker there to measure the dead
body.

It is hard to tell what would have happened if the good sense of the
undertaker had not come to the relief of the situation; and, hastily
answering her that there had probably been some mistake, that the order
was probably meant for the next block, and offering other similar
excuses while hastily apologizing for the intrusi