"I don't care; I do! It's just lovely, I think. You don't have to act before a whole big audience that is staring at you. Just some nice men, in their shirt sleeves, turning cranks----" "In their shirt sleeves?" "Why, yes. It's quite warm, with all those arc lights glowing, you know. And besides, what are shirt sleeves? Didn't dad act in his during the duel scene in "Lord Graham's Secret?" Of course he did! Shirt sleeves are no disgrace. Oh, Ruth, what are we to do, anyhow? What is to become of us?" Alice put her head down on the table. "There, dear, don't cry," urged her sister. "There must be a way out. Father will get a loan--his voice will come back, and----" "It will be too late," replied Alice, in a low voice. "We will be put out--disgraced before all the neighbors! I can't stand it. I'm going to do something!" She arose quickly, and there was a look on her face that caused Ruth to give start and to cry out: "Alice! What do you mean?" "I mean I'm going to see Russ Dalwood and ask him if I can't get work in the movies. If father won't, I will! And I'll ask Russ for the loan of some money. I can pay him back when I get my salary!" "Alice, I'll never let you do that!" and Ruth planted herself before the door. For a tense moment the sisters confronted each other. "But we--we must do something," faltered Alice. "Yes, but not that--at least, not yet. We have some pride left. Wait--wait until father comes back." With a gesture Alice consented. She sank wearily into a chair. It was tedious waiting. The girls talked but little--they had no heart for it. Around them hummed the noise of the apartment house. Noises came to them through the thin, cheap walls. The crying of babies, the quarrels of a couple in the flat back of them, the wheeze of a rusty phonograph, and the thump-thump of a playerpiano, operated with every violation of the musical code, added to the nerve-racking din. Ruth made a gesture of despair. "Beautiful!" murmured Alice as the paper roll in the mechanical piano got a "kink," and played a crash of discords. Ruth covered her ears with her hands. There was a step in the corridor. "There's father!" exclaimed Ruth. "I wonder what success he had negotiating a loan?" observed Alice. Mr. DeVere entered wearily. The girls waited for him to speak, and it was with an obvious effort that he croaked: "I--I didn't get it. Mr. Cross wouldn't even see me. He sent out word that he was too busy. He is getting ready for the first performance of 'A Matter of Friendship,' to-night." "A matter of friendship," repeated Alice. "What a play on the words!" "I sent in my card," explained Mr. DeVere, "and told him I must have a little money. He sent back word that he was sorry, but that he had invested so much in the play that he could spare none." There was a period of silence. The girls looked pityingly at their father. "Something must be done," he declared, finally. "I can try elsewhere. I will go see----"