something new for him--a strange role, for usually he was so jolly
and happy--going about reciting odd snatches from the plays in which
he had taken part.

"Does--does it hurt you, Daddy?" asked Ruth softly, as she stepped
closer to him, and put her hand on his shoulder.

He raised himself with an effort, and seemed to shake off the gloom
that held him prisoner.

"No--no," he answered in queer, croaking tones, so different from his
usual deep and vibrant ones. "That's the odd part of it. I have no
real pain. It isn't sore at all--just a sort of numbness."

"Did it come on suddenly?" asked Alice.

"Well, it did yesterday--very suddenly. But this time I was hoarse
when I started to rehearse and it kept getting worse until I couldn't
be heard ten feet away. Of course it was no use to go on then, so the
stage manager called me off."

"Then he'll wait until you're better?" asked Alice.

Her father shrugged his shoulders.

"He'll wait until to-morrow, at any rate," was the hesitating answer.

"Didn't going to the doctor's office help any?" asked Ruth.

"For a few minutes--yes. But as soon as I got to the theater I was as
bad as ever. I had some of his spray with me, too, but it did little
good. I think I must see him again. I'll go to his office now."

"No, he must come here!" insisted Ruth. "You shouldn't take any
chances going out in the air, Father, even though it is a warm spring
day. Let him come here. I'll go telephone."

She was out into the hall before he could remonstrate, had he had the
energy to do it. But Mr. DeVere seemed incapable of thinking for
himself, now that this trouble had come upon him.

Dr. Rathby came a little later. He had a cheery, confident air that
was good for the mind, if not for the body.

"Well, how goes it?" he asked.

"Not--very well," was Mr. DeVere's hoarse reply.

"I'm afraid you'll have to do as I suggested and take a complete
rest," went on the doctor. "That's the only thing for these cases.
I'll take another look at you."

The examination of the throat was soon over.

"Hum!" mused the physician. "Well, Mr. DeVere, I can tell you one
thing. If you keep on talking and rehearsing, you won't have any
voice at all by the end of the week."

"Oh!" cried the girls, together.

"Now, don't be frightened," went on the doctor quickly, seeing their
alarm. "This may not be at all serious. There is a good chance of Mr.
DeVere getting his voice back; but I confess I see little