“Jimmie!” said his wife, blushing scarlet.  “How could you?  Why, a morganatic marriage isn’t respectable.  It’s left-handed.”

“My love!  You are thinking of a broomstick marriage.  Trust me.  We are still legally married, and if I should try to sneak out of my obligations to you by this performance, I should still be liable in the eyes of the law for your debts.  Let that console you.”

“But—­” said Mrs. Jimmie, still blushing, “by this plan they won’t let us be together, will they?”

“They wouldn’t anyway, as I discovered from their first letter.  We are all to be lodged separately, and from the tone of that first letter, in which they addressed me as their prince, I hit on the morganatic marriage as more economical in letting him down easy, without telling him I had lied or having to pay for my lie,” said Jimmie, with timid appeal in his innocent blue eyes.

“But where do I come in, Jimmie?” I said, impatiently.

“You come in with Judas Iscariot.  Where you belong!” said Jimmie, severely.

Bee howled.  Mrs. Jimmie looked startled.

“Nonsense!” I said, indignantly.  “That is going a little too far.  I won’t be put there.  I believe you asked ’em on purpose, just so that you could crow over me afterward.”

“You are getting slightly mixed,” said Jimmie, politely.  “If you mention crowing, ’tis Peter you ought to have been lodged with.”

“What a fool you are, Jimmie!”

Jimmie gave an ecstatic bounce.  Whenever he has completely exasperated anybody he simply beams with joy.

“Where have they put me, Jimmie?” asked Bee.

“They have thoughtfully assigned you to Thomas,—­last name not mentioned,—­where you can sit down and hold regular doubting conventions with each other and both have the time of your lives.”

“I don’t believe you!”

“Look and see, O doubtful—­doubting one, I mean!”

“My word!  He is telling the truth!” cried Bee in astonishment.

“I tried to get—­” began Jimmie to his wife, but she stopped him.

“Don’t, dear,” she said, gently.  “You know I love your jokes, but don’t be sacrilegious.  Leave His name out of this nonsense.  I—­I couldn’t quite bear that.”

Jimmie got up and kissed her.

“They have lodged you with the Virgin Mary, sweetheart, and the two most lovely Marys in the world will be in the same house together,” he said.

Mrs. Jimmie blushed and smoothed Jimmie’s riotous hair tenderly.

“And have they separated you and me, dear?  Where have they lodged you?”

“I have secured an apartment with Mary Magdalene—­in her house, I mean!” said Jimmie, straightening up.

Bee and I shrieked.  Jimmie edged toward the door.

“Jimmie!” said his wife in horror. “Please don’t—­”

“Don’t what?”

His wife rose from her chair and turned away.