"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 hope of it at the present time. At any rate he must give himself absolute rest, and not use his voice--even to talk to you girls," and he smiled at them. "I know that is going to be hard," the doctor went on; "but it must be done sir, it must be done." "Impossible!" murmured Mr. DeVere. "It cannot be!" "It must be, my dear sir. Your vocal chords are in such shape that the least additional strain may permanently injure them. As it is now--you have a chance." "Only a chance did you say?" asked the actor, eagerly. "Yes, only a chance. It would be cruel to deceive you, and try to tell you that this is only temporary, and will pass off. It may, but it is sure to come back again, unless you give your throat an absolute rest." "For--for how long?" "I can't say--six months--maybe a year--maybe----" "A year! Why, Doctor, I never could do that." "You may have to. You can speak now, but if you keep on you will get to the point where you will be next to absolutely dumb!" The girls caught their breaths in sharp gasps. Even Mr. DeVere seemed unnerved.