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The newspapers of Manila were so engrossed in accounts of a notorious murder committed in Europe, in panegyrics and puffs for various preachers in the city, in the constantly increasing success of the French operetta, that they could scarcely devote space to the crimes perpetrated in the provinces by a band of tulisanes headed by a fierce and terrible leader who was called Matanglawin.

"You seem to have the whole peerage and baronetage at your fingers' ends," said she, sullenly; and the next moment she was on the stage, smiling and gracious, and receiving her father's guests with that charming manner which the heroine of the operetta could assume when she chose.

He thought he saw, ahead, serene, blissful days for Billy and himself. As the days, however, began to pass, one by one, Bertram Henshaw found them to be anything but serene and blissful. The operetta, with its rehearsals and its interruptions, was gone, certainly; but he was becoming seriously troubled about Billy. Billy did not act natural.

Bertram answered a light something, but his face grew a little white. Now that the trap had been sprung and the victim caught, he almost wished that he had not set any trap at all. He knew now it was true. Arkwright had been with Billy the day after the operetta, and her tears and her distress that evening had been caused by something Arkwright had said.

"Ahem, ahem!" coughed the silversmith, a very prudent man, who did not dare to stop the conversation from fear that he would be considered a coward. The good man had to content himself with coughing, winking to his helper, and gazing toward the street, as if to say, "They may be watching us!" "On account of the operetta," added another workman.

For this reason, Don Custodio, in spite of the active opposition he had manifested toward the French operetta, had gone to the theater, which action won him some caustic remarks on the part of Don Manuel, his ancient adversary in the sessions of the Ayuntamiento. "I've come to judge the operetta," he had replied in the tone of a Cato whose conscience was clear.

It was twelve o'clock on the night of the twentieth, and the operetta was over. To Billy, life was eminently worth living to-night.

Vivian made her appearance with her daughter, and Bernard, as he used to do at Baden, chose a corner to place some chairs for them. The crowd was small, for most of the visitors had compressed themselves into one of the rooms, where a shrill operetta was being performed by a strolling troupe. Mrs. Vivian's visit was a short one; she remained at the Casino less than half an hour.

"Nothing but rehearsals!" yawned Ruth. "Don't you wish the operetta were over?" "Yes and no," replied Marjorie, thinking of Frieda's promise. "I don't mind rehearsing much. But, then, I haven't a big part." "No; neither you nor I can sing wonderfully, can we? But didn't it make you feel the least bit badly, Marj, after being heroine last year, to have to take a back seat this time?"

There was in the town, as usual in Germany, a theater, where opera, opera-comique, operetta, drama, comedy, and vaudeville are presented every sort of play of every style and fashion. There were performances three times a week from six to nine in the evening. Old Jean Michel never missed one, and was equally interested in everything. Once he took his grandson with him.