“There is something which troubles me,” Whyn at length remarked.  “Every concert should have singing, or music of some kind.  Now, we have not arranged for one song, and I am sure the people who come will be disappointed.  I am so fond of singing myself that I know how much it will be missed.  But I suppose it can’t be helped.  I wish you boys could sing.”

“Maybe some of the choir members would come,” Rod suggested.

“Oh, do you think they would?” Whyn eagerly asked.

“I am not quite sure that they will.  But I will speak to grandad about it.  I know he will do all he can to help.”

“I hope they will come,” and Whyn gave a tired sigh.  “I haven’t heard any singing for such a long time, that I am hungry for it.  I had such a wonderful letter from Douglas to-day,” she continued, after a slight pause.  “He says that Anna Royanna, the great new American singer, has been in Ottawa, and he heard her one night.  She is quite young, so he writes, very beautiful, and with such a sad sweet face.  The people went fairly wild over her voice, and she had to sing one piece twice before they would let her stop.  And do you know, she is coming to St. John, and will be at the Opera House on Wednesday night.  Just think of it!” and Whyn’s eyes glowed with enthusiasm, while she clasped her thin white hands together.  “She will be there, so near, and yet I won’t be able to hear her.  But mamma will tell me about it, and that will be something.”

The scouts did not remain long in Whyn’s room that afternoon.  They knew that she was tired, and so when they left her they made their way to the shore, and sat down upon the sand under the shade of a large willow tree.  They were unusually silent now, for all were thinking of what Whyn had told them about the wonderful singer.

“Isn’t it too bad,” Rod suddenly began, “that Whyn can’t hear her sing?”

“She can’t go to the city, that’s sure,” Phil Dexter replied, giving the stick he was holding a savage thrust into the yielding sand.

“Maybe she’d come here,” Billy Potter suggested.

This was a brilliant idea, and the scouts looked at one another, while the light of hope brightened their faces.

“Would she come?” that was the question each asked himself.  These boys knew nothing about the ways of the great world beyond their own parish.  If they did they would have known how utterly ridiculous was the thought of a famous singer coming all the way to such an unknown place as Hillcrest to sing to an invalid girl.  But to them their little circle was everything, and the idea of such a noted person coming was nothing out of the ordinary.

“How much do you think she’d want?” Tommy Bunker queried.

“Let’s give her half what we make,” Rod suggested.  “And look,” he continued, “we mustn’t say a word to Captain Josh or Whyn, or to anybody else.  Let it be a big surprise to all.  If she comes we can keep her hid until the very last, and then she can come out and sing just like people do in story-books.  Wouldn’t Whyn be surprised and delighted?”