ry large city in Italy and Germany has practically its own
opera troupe. In full season it is grand opera, out of season it is
comic-opera, not the American kind; _Martha_, _The Bohemian Girl_, _The
Mascotte_, _The Grand Duchess_, and the like. And oh! my boy, the
homeliest chorus you ever dreamed of seeing; but they can sing. It's
only the ballerina who must have looks and figure. Poor angel! Tell your
Kitty to strike for a return ticket to America before she leaves."

"You think it's as bad as that?"

"Look on me as a prophet of evil, if you like, but truthful."

"I'll see that Kitty gets her ticket." Merrihew snapped the case of his
watch and drew his legs from under the table. "I lost a hundred last
night, too."

"After that I suppose nothing worse can happen," said Hillard cheerily.
"You will play, for all my advice."

"It's better to give than receive ... that," replied Merrihew
philosophically. "I've a good mind to follow the company. I've always
had a hankering to beat it up at Monte Carlo. A last throw, eh? Win or
lose, and quit. I might."

"And then again you mightn't. But the next time I go to Italy, I want
you to go with me. You're good company, and for the pleasure of
listening to your jokes I'll gladly foot the bills, and you may gamble
your letter of credit to your heart's content. I must be off. Who is
riding the Sandfords' black?"

"Haven't noticed. What do you think of Kitty?"

"Charming."

"And the photo isn't a marker."

"Possibly not."

"Lord, if I could only hibernate for three months, like a bear! My
capital might then readjust itself, if left alone that length of time.
Jack, why the deuce haven't I a relation I never heard of, who would
politely die to-morrow and leave me that beggarly thousand? I'm not
asking for much. The harder I chase it, the faster it runs ahead."
Merrihew thwacked his boots soundly with his crop.

"Some day I'm going to enter that thousand in the Suburban handicap. And
won't there be a killing!"

"It wouldn't do you any good to borrow it?"

"In that case I should owe two thousand instead of one. No, thank you.
Shall I see you at the club to-night?"

"Perhaps. Good-by."

They nodded pleasantly and took their separate ways. Merrihew stood very
high in Hillard's regard. He was a lovable fellow, and there was
something kindred in his soul and Hillard's, possibly the spirit of
romance. They had met years before, at a commencement, Merrihew in his
mortar-boa