Rathby looked serious,
but he tried to smile. Mr. DeVere looked serious--but he did not
smile. That was the difference.
"Well?" asked Ruth, with a sharp intaking of her breath.
"Nothing serious--at least, so far," was the doctor's verdict. "I
think we have taken it in time. There is considerable inflammation of
the vocal chords, and they have suffered a partial paralysis."
"As bad as that?" gasped Alice.
"Oh, that isn't half as bad as it sounds!" laughed Dr. Rathby. "I
have had cases worse than this. Now, I'll leave you some medicine to
be used in an atomizer, as a spray, Mr. DeVere, and I want you--in
fact as a doctor I order you--to speak as little as possible. Don't
use your voice at all, if you can help it--at least not for several
days."
He turned to write a prescription, but was startled at the hoarse cry
of expostulation from Mr. DeVere.
"But, doctor!" exclaimed the actor, "I--I----"
"There, now, I told you not to speak!" chided the physician, with
upraised finger.
"But I have to! I'm an actor--I'm rehearsing a new part. I must use
my voice! It's imperative!"
The doctor seemed startled.
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