"We will go to the theater to-night," suggested Edward, who produced two complimentary admission cards.

"All right, old boy, I'll go anywhere you say," said Ben, in better spirits than Edward had ever seen him before.

At the theater they were led by the usher to a sumptuous box, where they could enjoy a full view of the whole audience, as well as of the stage. As they sat watching gorgeously dressed women pass by, accompanied by men in full dress, they felt somewhat out of place, and it would not have been necessary to be a close observer to see that it was their first taste of high life.

The play was a modern one, in which the tragic and the comic sides of life are brought out, and from the first, the two friends were entirely taken up with the action on the stage, forgetful of everything else. Now they laughed so loud that the people around them were surprised at them; then during some sad scene, they both wiped tears from their eyes, to the extreme amusement of many.

All at once the music from the orchestra became soft and sweet, as if brought from far away, then, a woman whom Edward recognized at once, appeared on the stage, and the whole audience seemed to go wild. Nellie King, the star of the play, and the wonderful singer, was used to such ovation, and after smiling and gracefully bowing to the audience, she sang a love-ballad. Her voice, sweet as melody itself, carried to the audience the loving words of the song, each word pure and distinct. At times her voice was low and plaintive as if pleading, emanating sadness to the listeners, then it rose until its volume filled the whole building; it was violently passionate for an instant, and then again the words came with so much sadness that they seemed to come from the shadow of death. It spoke of unsatisfied love and despair, and the singer's voice was so true and fascinating, that when the last words had been sung, many in the audience were surprised to feel tears upon their face.

Edward was so affected that he could not speak, while the Russian was saying, "Jerusalem! What a voice!"

The whole audience seemed mad, and flowers were thrown upon the stage, hats in the air, and they were calling for Nellie's reappearance.

When she came again, her face was pale, and her eyes wandered until they seemed to rest for an instant upon the box where Edward was sitting; then as a smile passed over her face, she sang in French one of Albani's favorite songs. It is the song of an exile. It is full of pathos, and tells of the longings of the exile for his far-away home. Once Edward bad heard the same song in Canada, sung by Albani herself, but he had failed to be fully impressed by these lines:

"Rendez-moi ma patrie
Ou laissez-moi mourrir.
Rendez-moi mon pays,
Ou laissez-moi mourrir."

After the play Edward was in such a state of mind that his friend was actually unable to get a sensible answer from him, and, arrived at their room, he wanted the Russian to stay up and speak of the woman whom he now fairly adored; but Ben, while full of enthusiasm and admiration for the same woman, was doing some hard thinking, and he could not bring himself to believe that such a talented person could be so taken up with Edward, to be in real earnest in her actions toward him. When Edward gave him a chance to speak, he said: "Edward, my boy, you have that woman on the brain, and I am fearful of the results. In you she has found a source of diversion, and her actions now, I am afraid, are the result of a fancy which might pass away at any moment, and I advise you strongly not to let your enthusiasm run away with your heart and common sense."