ver at once to inform the rest of the
scouts, who were already gathered at Headquarters. In the paper which
came that day from the city there was a long piece about Anna Royanna,
and Parson Dan read it aloud that evening. It told how this wonderful
singer had sprung suddenly into fame during the last year. She had
been singing before but had attracted little attention until one night
a noted foreign singer heard her voice at a party given in a private
house. It was through him that such success had come to her.

Rod and Phil were fortunate in obtaining seats in the Opera House, the
only two which were left. As they looked around upon the crowded place
they were for a time somewhat bewildered. They were not accustomed to
seeing so many people together, and they felt very small and
insignificant. Several people watched with interest the two boys who
stared at everything and everybody in such undisguised wonder. But Rod
and Phil did not care. They wanted to see and hear Miss Royanna and it
did not matter to them what people thought.

The curtain at last slowly rose, and a deep hush passed throughout the
building. Then a woman moved quietly to the centre of the stage. Rod
sat bolt upright when he saw her. He paid no attention to the storm of
applause which greeted her appearance. He saw her bend her head
slightly in acknowledgment of the reception she received. Never before
had he seen such a beautiful woman, and his heart went out to her at
once. What would Whyn say when she saw her? he asked himself. Then a
doubt flashed into his mind. Would this marvellous woman listen to
him? Would she be willing to go all the way to Hillcrest to sing to a
helpless girl? He felt his courage slowly oozing away and he almost
wished that he did not have to speak to her. Would she have anything
to say to him? he wondered. He noted her dress; how beautiful it was!
And her face, he could see it quite plainly, was sweet, and yet sad,
just as Whyn had described it from her brother's letter.

Rod was presently aroused from his meditation by the sweetest sound he
ever heard. He thought there must be a bird singing somewhere on the
stage. He rubbed his eyes, thinking he was dreaming. But, no, it was
only the woman standing before him, and she was singing. As he
listened to her he could not help thinking of the fields in Hillcrest,
of the birds and flowers, which he knew and loved. And thus his
thoughts would wander ever