“Oh, she’s well, I guess.  But may we see Miss Royanna?  It’s so important, and we won’t tire her very much.”

John Markham remained silent for a while.  He did not wish to turn these little lads away now, but he wondered whether the singer would mind if he should take them in.  He had a great respect for Miss Royanna, for it was seldom that he was able to obtain such a notable person, and from the time that she had accepted his invitation to come he had been greatly puzzled.  Why should she have been so willing to come to St. John, when cities four to five times the size were clamouring for her?  But she had written, accepting at once, and had seemed really glad to come.

“Wait here,” he at last ordered, as he turned on his heel, “and I shall see what I can do with Miss Royanna.”

CHAPTER XVIII

THE WAY OF THE HEART

Anna Royanna was very tired, and she was sitting in an old easy chair waiting for the manager to come to take her to the hotel.  She leaned back in a listless manner, with her inclined head leaning upon her right hand.  It was a small hand, and very white.  Her dark hair partly shrouded her face of singular beauty and sweetness.  But lines of care were plainly visible, and as she waited there this night those lines deepened.  She was much depressed, notwithstanding the reception she had received from the crowded house.  She had been told that she was expected to sing at the matinee on the morrow, and this was not at all to her liking.  She had been planning something of a far different nature.  She had engagements for weeks ahead, and she had only come to St. John when asked to do so that she might carry out an idea which had long been in her mind.  But now this must be abandoned for the present if she consented to sing at the matinee, as she must leave the city early the next morning.

While she was thinking over these things, the door softly opened, and John Markham entered.

“Are you ready to go?” she enquired.

“You are very tired,” was the reply, “and it is no wonder.  But you made a great hit to-night, and I have been almost swamped with requests from visitors who wish to see you.  Some were determined to enter, especially women, and I had to be very firm, in fact almost rude.”

“You were quite right, Mr. Markham,” and the woman lifted her eyes to his face.  “I have no desire to see such people.  I know them only too well.  They are quite willing to fawn upon me now when I have met with some success.  But one time when I was poor and struggling they treated me like a dog.  I suppose Mrs. Featson, Mrs. Juatty, Mrs. Merden, and other women of their set were there.”

“Oh, yes, and they were most insistent.  But how do you know of them?” and the manager looked astonished.  “I thought that you were an entire stranger here.”

“So I am, in a way,” and a slight smile overspread the woman’s face.  “But I know those women to my sorrow.  Some day, perhaps, I may be able to tell you more, but not to-night.  Are you ready to go now?”