"I think so," answered Ruth. "But isn't it too bad? Just when everything looked so bright." "Oh, well, it will come out all right, I'm sure," spoke Russ. "Don't you want to come to see our show to-night? We've got some fine pictures. I'm going down a little early to get the reels in shape." "We very seldom go to the 'movies,'" answered Ruth. "Though I have seen some I liked." "We have some fine ones," went on Russ. "Better come on down. I'll get you a pass in!" and he laughed genially. "Not this time," answered Ruth gently. "I must get back and help Alice look after my father. Thank you." She left him at the corner, and he passed on whistling softly and thinking of many things. Mr. DeVere seemed better when Ruth got back with the medicine. And when his throat was sprayed he could talk with less effort. But his tones were still very husky, and it was evident that unless there was a great improvement in the morning he would hardly be able to go to rehearsal. "I'm glad the show doesn't open until next week," he said with a smile. "I'd never be able to make myself heard beyond the first three rows. But I'll surely be better by the time we open." "What did you mean by saying you had this same trouble before, Dad?" asked Alice. "Well, it did come on me last summer, when I was taking my little vacation," he replied. "It wasn't quite as bad as this, though." "You never told us," accused Ruth. "No, I didn't want to worry you. It passed over, and I'm sure this will." Mr. DeVere spoke little the next morning. Perhaps he did not want his daughters to know how very hoarse his voice was. He left for the doctor's before going to the theater, and most anxiously did the girls await his return. "There he is!" exclaimed Ruth at length, late that afternoon. "But he's earlier than usual!" said Alice. "I wonder----" Mr. DeVere fairly staggered into the room. His face was white as he sank into a chair Alice pushed forward. "Daddy!" exclaimed the girls. He shook his head mournfully. "It--it's no use!" he said, and they could barely make out his words. "My voice failed completely. I--I had to give up the rehearsal," and he covered his face with his hands. CHAPTER V REPLACED For a few moments the two girls said nothing. They simply stood there, looking at their father, who was bowed with grief. It was 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.