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 this emergency than had her
sister. "Something has happened to him! Was it dust in your throat on
the street?" asked Alice. "Don't answer--wait, Dad! I have some
lozenges. I'll get them for you!"
She was in and out of her room on the instant, with a box of troches,
one of which she held out to her father. He had not moved since
sinking into the chair, but stared straight ahead--and the future
that he saw was not a pleasant one to contemplate.
"Take this, Father," begged Alice, slipping her arm about him, as she
sank to the floor at his feet. "This will help your throat. Don't you
remember what a terrible cold I had? These helped me a lot. Take
one!"
Mr. DeVere shook his head slightly, and seemed about to refuse the
lozenge. But a glance at his daughters' worried faces evidently made
him change his mind. He slipped the tablet into his mouth, and then
straightened up in his chair. Whatever happened to him he knew he
must make a brave fight for the sake of the girls. 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. "I caught cold
once, and I got hoarse so suddenly that I was afraid I was going to
be terribly ill. But it passed off in a day or two. Yours will, Dad!"
Mr. DeVere tried to act as though he believed it, but there was a
despondent look on his face.
"I'll slip over and ask Mrs. Dalwood the name of a good doctor,"
offered Alice. "It's too bad we can't pay Dr. Haldon, but we will as
soon as we can. Mrs. Dalwood may know of a good throat specialist
nearby."
"Yes, you had better go," said Mr. DeVere in a low voice. "I must be
able to go on with the rehearsals to-morrow."
Alice fairly flew across the hall, and the tragic little story was
soon told. Mrs. Dalwood, fortunately, did know of a good doctor in
the vicinity. He had attended Billy several times, and, while not
exactly a throat specialist, was to be depended upon.
"Then I'll go downstairs and telephone for him," said Alice. "Poor
daddy is so worried."
"I'll go over and see what I can do," volunteered Mrs. Dalwood. "I
have an old-fashioned cough medicine I used for the children."
She took a bottle with her as she slipped across the hall to the flat
of her neighbors. Russ went with her, anxious to do what he could.
But Mr. DeVere shook his head as the bottle of simple home remedy was
proffered.
"Thank you very much, Mrs. Dalwood," he said hoarsely. "It is very
kind of you, but I'm afraid to try it. I have had this trouble
before, and----"
"You have, Father?" cried Ruth in surprise. "You never told us about
it."
"I will--after the doctor comes," he said in a low voice.
Alice came back from using the telephone of the neighbor on the floor
below to say that Dr. Rathby would soon be over.
"And then we'll have you all right again, Daddy!" she said, and the
merry, laughing light that had disappeared came back into her eyes.
It was rather anxious waiting for the physician, but when he came his
cheery, breezy presence seemed to fill them all with hope. He took
Mr. DeVere into a room by himself, and made a careful examination.
The girls could hear the young doctor's sharp, quick questioning, and
their father's hoarse, mumbled replies. Then followed a period of
nervous silence, broken by more talk.
Presently physician and patient came out Dr. 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.
"An actor," he said in low tones. "You did not tell me that. I did
not understand ... Hm! Yes!"
He thought deeply for a moment.
"You could not take a rest for a week?" he asked.
"A week? No! I have been 'resting' enough weeks as it is. I must go
on with this. I've had it before. It has passed away. Can't you give
me something that will enable me to go on--some medicine that will
act quickly? I must be at rehearsal to-morrow."
The doctor shrugged his shoulders as though to clear himself from all
blame.
"Well, if you have to--you have to, I suppose," he said. "I
understand. I can give you an astringent mixture that will shrink the
chords, and may relieve some of the inflammation. It may enable you
to go on--but at the risk of permanent injury to your throat."
"Oh!" exclaimed both girls.
"Never mind!" responded Mr. DeVere, hoarsely. "I--I must risk the
future for the sake of the present. I cannot give up this engagement.
I must keep on with the rehearsals. Give me something speedy, if you
please, Doctor. I'll--I'll have to take the chance."
"I am sorry," spoke Dr. Rathby. "But of course I understand. I have a
mixture that some singers have used with good effect. I'll try it on
you. You can use it several times to-night, and on your way to
rehearsal stop in at my office in the morning, and I'll swab out your
throat. That may help some."
"Oh, thank you, Doctor. You don't know what this means to me. I--I
feel better already."
"I'm afraid it's only temporary relief," returned the physician. "But
there. Don't worry. Get that filled and see what effect it has. Then
come and see me in the morning."
He wrote the prescription and hurried away, nodding to the girls.
"I'll get it filled," offered Ruth, and she could hardly keep back a
sigh as she looked at the scanty supply of money in the household
purse. As she was going out to the drug store she met Russ in the
hallway.
"Is he any better?" the young moving picture operator asked.
"I think so," answered Ruth. "But isn't it too bad? Just when
everything looked so bright."
"Oh, well, it will come out all right, I'm sure," spoke Russ. "Don't
you want to come to see our show to-night? We've got some fine
pictures. I'm going down a little early to get the reels in shape."
"We very seldom go to the 'movies,'" answered Ruth. "Though I have
seen some I liked."
"We have some fine ones," went on Russ.
"Better come on down. I'll get you a pass in!" and he laughed
genially.
"Not this time," answered Ruth gently. "I must get back and help
Alice look after my father. Thank you."
She left him at the corner, and he passed on whistling softly and
thinking of many things.
Mr. DeVere seemed better when Ruth got back with the medicine. And
when his throat was sprayed he could talk with less effort. But his
tones were still very husky, and it was evident that unless there was
a great improvement in the morning he would hardly be able to go to
rehearsal.
"I'm glad the show doesn't open until next week," he said with a
smile. "I'd never be able to make myself heard beyond the first three
rows. But I'll surely be better by the time we open."
"What did you mean by saying you had this same trouble before, Dad?"
asked Alice.
"Well, it did come on me last summer, when I was taking my little
vacation," he replied. "It wasn't quite as bad as this, though."
"You never told us," accused Ruth.
"No, I didn't want to worry you. It passed over, and I'm sure this
will."
Mr. DeVere spoke little the next morning. Perhaps he did not want
his daughters to know how very hoarse his voice was. He left for the
doctor's before going to the theater, and most anxiously did the
girls await his return.
"There he is!" exclaimed Ruth at length, late that afternoon.
"But he's earlier than usual!" said Alice. "I wonder----"
Mr. DeVere fairly staggered into the room. His face was white as he
sank into a chair Alice pushed forward.
"Daddy!" exclaimed the girls.
He shook his head mournfully.
"It--it's no use!" he said, and they could barely make out his words.
"My voice failed completely. I--I had to give up the rehearsal," and
he covered his face with his hands.