theatre-lovers than are to be found in San Francisco. The play was one of
the few worldly pleasures that Mr. Levice thoroughly enjoyed. When a great
star was heralded, he was in a feverish delight until it had come and gone.
When Bernhardt appeared, the quiet little man fully earned the often
indiscriminately applied title of "crazy Frenchman." A Frenchman is never
so much one as when confronted in a foreign land with a great French
creation; every fibre in his body answers each charm with an appreciation
worked to fever-heat by patriotic love; at such times the play of his
emotions precludes any idea of reason to an onlooker. Bernhardt was one of
Levice's passions. Booth was another, though he took him more composedly.
The first time the latter appeared at the Baldwin (his opening play was
"Hamlet") the Levices--that is, Ruth and her father--went three times in
succession to witness his matchless performance, and every succeeding
characterization but strengthened their enthusiasm.

Booth was coming again. The announcement had been rapturously hailed by
the Levices.

"It will be impossible for us to go together, Father," Ruth remarked at the
breakfast-table. "Louis will have to take me on alternate nights, while
you stay at home with Mamma; did you hear, Louis?"

"You will hardly need to do that," answered Arnold, lowering his cup; "if
you and your father prefer going together, I shall enjoy staying with your
mother on those nights."

"Thanks for the offer--and your evident delight in my company," laughed
Ruth; "but there is one play at which you must submit to the infliction of
my presence. Don't you remember we always wished to see the 'Merchant of
Venice' and judge for ourselves his interpretation of the character? Well,