"Dat vas goot, young laty--ver goot," he growled. "What did I tell you doctor?" cried Gay exultantly. "Why, she can sing everything set down for Polly--I pray you don't forget it is to be Polly--Peachum. She _is_ Polly Peachum. What do you think, Mr. Pope?" "Polly Peachum by all means since you will have it so. If an author has a right to anything it is surely the right to name his offspring as he will. He need not even consult his wife--if he have one. But though you call your work an opera Mr. Gay, it is also a play. The songs are not everything--indeed, Mr. Rich would say they're nothing. Can the girl act?" "She can be taught and I'll swear she'll prove an apt pupil. 'Twill, I fear, be many months before it is staged. Rich has not made up his mind. I hear Mr. Huddy who was dispossessed of the Duke's Theatre contemplates the New Theatre in the Haymarket. I must talk to him. He hasn't yet found his new company. An indifferent lot of strolling players I'm told was his old one. Polly probably won't have a singing part but that's of no great matter just now." "You're bound to build castles in the air Mr. Gay," said Dr. Arbuthnot, taking his churchwarden from his lips. "Suppose you come down to _terra firma_ for a brief space. The girl is a singer--that cannot be gainsaid. She may become an actress--good. But now--who is she? Her father--her mother----" "They can hardly be said to exist," broke in Gay. "I will tell you the story later on. 'Twould but embarrass her to relate it now. The duchess has been good enough to charge herself with the cost of her keeping--her schooling and the rest." "Oh, that alters the case. If she is a protegee of her grace I need not say more. Her future is provided for." "Why, yes," but Gay spoke in anything but a confident tone. Inwardly he was troubled at what view Mat Prior's "Kitty" might take of Polly's escapade. The Duchess might be as wayward as she pleased, but it did not follow that she would excuse waywardness in another woman. Gay turned to Pepusch and the two conversed for some little time, the upshot of the talk being that Pepusch promised, when the proper time came, to say to John Rich all he could in favour of Lavinia, always supposing she had acquired sufficient stage experience. This settled, the poet drew near Lavinia who all this time was waiting and wondering what this new adventure of hers would end in. "Now Polly, my dear," said Gay, "if you behave yourself and don't have any more love affairs----" "But did I not tell you, sir, I'd had none," interrupted Lavinia. "Yes--yes, I remember quite well. We won't go into the subject again or we shall never finish. The varieties and nice distinctions of love are endless. A much more pressing question is nearer to hand--where are you going to live?" "Hannah, my mother's servant--a dear good kind creature--it was through her I was able to come here--will find me a lodging. I can trust her but--but----"