more of
it than Mrs. Dalwood and her sons could eat.

There were more invitations from the Dalwoods to dinner or supper,
but Mr. DeVere was proud, and declined, though in the most
delightfully polite way.

"I--I don't see how he can refuse, when he knows we are really
hungry!" sighed Alice.

"You wouldn't want him to be a beggar; would you?" flashed Ruth.

"No. But it's awfully hard; isn't it?"

"It is. Too bad they don't pay for rehearsals. And there'll be
another full week! Oh, Alice, I wish there was something we could do
to earn money!"

"So do I! But what is there?"

"I don't know. Oh, dear!"

They sat in the gloaming--silent, waiting for their father to come
home.

"There's his step!" exclaimed Ruth, jumping up.

"Yes--but," said Alice, in puzzled, frightened tones, "it--it doesn't
sound like him, somehow. How--how slowly he walks! Oh, I hope nothing
has happened!"

"Happened? How could there?" asked Ruth, yet with blanched face.

The door opened, and Mr. DeVere entered. It needed but a glance at
his white face to show that something had happened--something
tragic--and not the tragedy of the theater.

"Oh, Father--Daddy--what is it!" cried Alice, springing to his arms.

"I--I--my----" Mr. DeVere could hardly speak, so hoarse was he. Only
a husky whisper came from his lips.

"Are you--are you hurt?" cried Ruth. "Shall I get a doctor?"

"It--it's my voice!" gasped the actor. "It has gone back on me--I
can't speak a word to be heard over the footlights! It's my old
trouble come back!" and he sank weakly into a chair.

CHAPTER IV

DESPONDENCY

Startled and alarmed the two girls hastened to the side of their
father. They flitted helplessly about him for a moment, like pretty,
distressed birds. As for Mr. DeVere, his hand went to his aching
throat as though to clutch the malady that had so suddenly gripped
him, and tear it out. For none realized as keenly as he what the
attack meant. It was as though some enemy had struck at his very
life, for to him his voice was his only means of livelihood.

"Oh, Father!" gasped Ruth. "What is it? Speak! Tell us! What shall we
do?"

"It--it's--" but his voice trailed off into a hoarse gurgle, and
signs of distress and pain appeared on his face.

"Oh, tell us! Tell us!" begged Ruth, clasping her hands, her blue
eyes filling with tears.

"Can't you see he can't speak!" exclaimed Alice, a bit sharply. She
had a better grasp of the situation in t