It happened that the particular opera chosen for presentation during
the Easter holidays was to be performed by a capable traveling company
in a neighboring town a month or so before. Consequently our amateurs
felt it their duty to witness the performance, and thus pick up some
valuable hints for future use by such a mild form of "under-study."
Not only our three friends, but two others of the company--the second
soprano and the contralto--started on their short railway journey on a
certain evening in March, intending to return by the last train.

It was scarcely possible, without giving offense to some one or other
of the party, to arrange beforehand who was to escort whom. One of the
men must inevitably take charge of two of the ladies; fate must
determine which! Cuthbert Aston--a youth unaccustomed to deny himself
any gratification upon which he had set his mind--had probably resolved
that it would not be he! But fortune is proverbially fickle. The
train was crowded and seats were at a discount. It was impossible for
all five to travel together. Violet--with a woman's perversity,
perhaps, because of Cuthbert's evident intention, or, it may be, to
show a deliberate preference for Murray--contrived that the latter
should accompany herself. The other cavalier was therefore compelled,
with as good grace as he could manage, to find places in another
compartment for himself and the two very uninteresting maidens thus
thrust upon him. No wonder he was nettled! Like a spoiled boy he
determined to leave Violet to herself--or rather to her chosen
escort--for the rest of the evening. Glum as an owl, he took his place
in the theater between the two girls, keeping himself severely aloof
from the fickle lady of his dreams. She, on the contrary, stirred by
the pleasurable excitement of her surroundings, and possibly not
displeased by so evident a proof of Cuthhert's appreciation of her,