“Well, then, perhaps I do.”

“No, no, Lotty; your husband cannot let you say that.”

“My husband can laugh and talk with barmaids.  That makes him happy.”

“Lotty,” he said, “you are a little fool.  And think of the glory.  Posters with your name in letters a foot and a half long—­’The People’s Favorite.’  Why, don’t they applaud you till their hands drop off?”

She melted a little.

“Applaud!  As if that did any good!  And me in tights!”

“As for the tights,” Joe replied with dignity, “the only person whom you need consult on that subject is your husband; and since I do not object, I should like to see the man who does.  Show me that man, Lotty, and I’ll straighten him out for you.  You have my perfect approval, my dear.  I honor you for the tights.”

“My husband’s approval!”

She repeated his words again in a manner which had been on other occasions most irritating to him.  But to-night he refused to be offended.

“Of course,” he went on, “as soon as I get a berth on another ship I shall take you off the boards.  It is the husband’s greatest delight, especially if he is a jolly sailor, to brave all dangers for his wife.  Think, Lotty, how pleasant it would be not to do any more work.”

“I should like to sing sometimes, to sing good music, at the great concerts.  That’s what I thought I was going to do.”

“You shall; you shall sing as little or as often as you like.  ’A sailor’s wife a sailor’s star should be.’  You shall be a great lady, Lotty, and you shall just command your own line.  Wait a bit, and you shall have your own carriage, and your own beautiful house, and go to as many balls as you like among the countesses and the swells.”

“Oh, Joe!” she laughed.  “Why, if we were as rich as anything, I should never get ladies to call upon me.  And as for you, no one would ever take you to be a gentleman, you know.”

“Why, what do you call me, now?”

He laughed, but without much enjoyment.  No one likes to be told that he is not a gentleman, whatever his own suspicions on the subject may be.

“Never mind.  I know a gentleman when I see one.  Go on with your nonsense about being rich.”

“I shall make you rich, Lotty, whether you like it or not,” he said, still with unwonted sweetness.

She shook her head.

“Not by wickedness,” she said stoutly.

“I’ve got there,” he pulled a bundle of papers out of his pockets, “all the documents wanted to complete the case.  All I want now is for the rightful heiress to step forward.”

“I’m not the rightful heiress, and I’m not the woman to step forward, Joe; so don’t you think it.”

“I’ve been to-day,” Joe continued, “to Doctors’ Commons, and I’ve seen the will.  There’s no manner of doubt about it; and the money—­oh, Lord, Lotty, if you only knew how much it is!”

“What does it matter, Joe, how much it is, if it is neither yours nor mine?”