great promise. Illness, however, confined her to her bed for six
months, in spite of which the impressario paid her salary in full. She
recovered, and showed her gratitude by singing without recompense during
the fair of the Ascension, when immense throngs flocked to Venice. The
_corps diplomatique_ presented her on the first night with a jeweled
necklace of immense value, as a testimonial of their esteem and pleasure
at her recovery.

A singular evidence of the superstition of the Neapolitans was shown on
her return to their city, which was then threatened by an eruption of
Vesuvius and a dreadful earthquake, the cause of considerable damage.
The populace believed that it was a visitation of God in punishment for
the permission granted to a heretic Englishwoman to sing at San Carlo.
Mrs. Billington's safety was for a time threatened, but her talents and
popularity at last triumphed, and she rose higher in public regard than
before. Her Neapolitan engagement was terminated very suddenly by the
death of her husband, as he was in the act one evening of cloaking her
prior to her stepping into her carriage to go to the theatre. A single
gasp and a convulsion, and Thomas Billington was dead at his wife's
feet. The consternation at this event was mixed with much scandal, and
many whispered that he had died from poison or the dagger. It was known
that the Neapolitan nobles had paid Mrs. Billington warm attention,
and hints of assassination were industriously circulated by those
gossip-mongers who are always in quest of a fresh social sensation. Mrs.
Billington, after remaining for some time in retirement, fled from a
scene which was fraught with painful memories, though there is no reason
to believe that she deeply lamented the loss of a husband whose only
attraction to this brilliant woman was the reflected light of her youth,
which invested him with the association of her first girlish love. At
all events, the widow succeeded in becoming desperately enamored