It would not do to
show the white feather before them, even though his heart was quaking
with the terrible fear that had come upon him.
"What happened, Dad?" asked Ruth. "Can't you tell us? Oh, I am so
worried!"
He tried to smile at her, but it was a pathetic attempt. Then, with
an effort, he spoke--so hoarsely that they could barely understand
him.
"It--it's my voice," he whispered, gratingly. "Some sort of affection
of my vocal chords. You'd better get a doctor. I--I must be better by
to-morrow."
"Poor Daddy!" whispered Ruth. "I'll go down stairs and telephone for
Dr. Haldon."
"No--not him--some--some other physician. We--we haven't paid Dr.
Haldon's bill," said Mr. DeVere quickly, and this time he spoke more
distinctly.
"Oh, you're better!" cried Alice in delight, clapping her hands. "I
knew my medicine would help you, Dad! It's good; isn't it?"
He nodded and smiled at her, but there was little of conviction in
his manner, had the girls but noticed it.
"I know just how it is," went on Alice, and her tone did as much as
anything to relieve the strain they were all under.
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