“Where is this concert to take place?” she at length enquired.

“At Headquarters, just in front of Whyn’s window, so she can see and hear,” was the reply.

“Yes, but where?  How far is it from the city?”

“Oh, I forgot that,” and Rod smiled.  “I thought everybody knew that Captain Josh lived at Hillcrest.”

“Hillcrest, did you say?” the woman demanded, while a new interest shone in her eyes.

“Yes.  It’s on the river, about twenty-five miles from here.  You could go up in the afternoon boat, and get there in plenty of time.”

The woman sat up suddenly in her chair now, for an idea had stabbed her mind with a startling intensity.  Could it be possible, she asked herself, that this is he?  Those eyes recalled one whose memory was very dear, and that erect poise of the head, crowned with such golden curls, could belong to no one else.  And he was from Hillcrest as well, the very place.

“Tell me,” she said in a low voice, controlling herself as much as possible, “your name, my little man.”

“Rod Royal,” was the reply.

There was no doubt about it now, and involuntarily the woman reached out her arms toward him.  She drew them back, however, and placed her hand to her forehead.

“Are you ill, Miss Royanna?” Mr. Markham enquired.  “I am afraid that these boys are tiring you.  They must leave at once.”

“Yes, I do feel tired, and wish to get back to the hotel.”

“And you won’t go to the concert?” Rod questioned anxiously.  “Whyn will be so disappointed.”

The woman’s eyes were now fixed full upon the boy’s face.  She saw his lips quiver, and her heart went out to him with one mighty rush.  How she longed to clasp him in her arms, shower kisses upon his little tanned face, and tell him all.  But, no, she must not do it yet.  There was a reason why she should delay.  With an effort, therefore, she restrained herself.

“Will you come with me to the hotel?” she asked.  “We can talk it over there.”

“But, Miss Royanna,” the manager warned, who saw that she was much drawn toward the boys, “you must not make any rash promises, You are in great demand, and it will be a bitter disappointment to many if you do not sing tomorrow afternoon.”

“Leave that to me, Mr. Markham.  I shall not disappoint any one, not even these boys.”

“And so you intend to go to the concert,” the manager remarked, as they were being bowled swiftly along in the car to the hotel.

“Yes.  Why should I not?  There will be plenty of time after the matinee.  I can hire a car to take me there, and bring me back in the evening.  I shall enjoy the trip out into the country, for I am so tired of cities.”

“But what will people think of your going to such a place to sing for a few country people?”

“I don’t care what they think,” and the woman’s voice was severer than usual.  “I know that I shall not be able to meet a number of society lights, for which I shall be most thankful.”