"Oh, won't it be jolly to go sailing!" exclaimed Alice. "I shall just love it!"

Mr. DeVere sighed resignedly.

"I'm afraid it won't be very good for your throat, Daddy," said Ruth in a low tone. "The damp air will be sure to make you cough."

"Oh, well—" he began.

Mr. Pertell overheard what was said.

"I don't like to ask you, Mr. DeVere," he said, "to do anything that will be bad for your health. But I certainly need your services, and those of your daughters, in this sea drama. Otherwise I would not ask you to run any risks with your throat.

"But I will say this. We shall not be afloat until Summer, and, as we shall be in a warm climate, perhaps the bad effects will not be so pronounced."

"No, I think so myself," the old actor admitted. "It may even do me good. I will doctor up in the meanwhile. And I realize that if I do not go, my daughters cannot. I would not like to have them miss this fine opportunity."

"Oh, Daddy! We wouldn't go if it harmed you!" Alice cried.

"Oh, I dare say I can manage," her father replied. "The new treatment I am taking seems to agree with me. Who knows? Perhaps, when it comes time to sail, my throat may not trouble me at all."