“Well, we shall think it over,” the parson replied, “and let you know later.”

That afternoon Mrs. Royal told Rod that he could go to the city.  It might do him good, so she said, to hear such a famous singer.  She knew that she could trust him to behave himself, no matter where he was.

Rod was delighted, and hurried over 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 every time she sang.  It was so strange that he could not account for it, and he wondered if Phil felt the same way.  Now he was tucked in his little bed at home, with the