"It must be, my dear sir. Your vocal chords are in such shape that the least additional strain may permanently injure them. As it is now—you have a chance."
"Only a chance did you say?" asked the actor, eagerly.
"Yes, only a chance. It would be cruel to deceive you, and try to tell you that this is only temporary, and will pass off. It may, but it is sure to come back again, unless you give your throat an absolute rest."
"For—for how long?"
"I can't say—six months—maybe a year—maybe——"
"A year! Why, Doctor, I never could do that."
"You may have to. You can speak now, but if you keep on you will get to the point where you will be next to absolutely dumb!"
The girls caught their breaths in sharp gasps. Even Mr. DeVere seemed unnerved.
"It may seem harsh to say this to you," went on Dr. Rathby, "but it is the kindest in the end. Rest is what you need."
"Then I can't go to rehearsal in the morning?"