Grace Harlowe's Plebe Year at High School Part 24

"I already have mine, all right," declared Tom Gray.

"And I think I have mine," observed David. "She's wearing a pink dress and is just about as tall as a marionette."

Anne laughed and stood on tiptoe to make herself look taller. Suddenly she caught the eye of Miriam Nesbit, who was lingering in the doorway, watching the scene with an expression that the circ.u.mstances and holiday surroundings hardly seemed to justify.

"I wonder if the party will go off without a hitch," thought Anne, as they joined the grand march into the dining room.

When the beautiful, illuminated tree had been disburdened of all its presents and the guests were well advanced on their supper, Mrs. Gray approached Anne, carrying an oblong box, neatly done up in white tissue paper tied with red ribbons. Pinned to the ribbon with a piece of holly was a Christmas card on which was printed in fancy lettering "A Christmas Thought."

"Why, what is this, Mrs. Gray?" demanded Anne, rather excited, while many of the boys and girls gathered around her and some stood on chairs in order to see what the mysterious box contained.

"I know no more than you, dear," replied the old lady. "A man left it at the door a moment ago, and one of the servants gave it to me. Why don't you open it and see?"

Anne hesitated. Something told her not to open the box, but how could she help it with dozens of her friends waiting eagerly to see what was in it?

"Hurry up, Anne, aren't you curious to see what it is?" some one called.

"It looks like flowers," said another.

"Or candy," observed a third.

And still Anne's fingers lingered on the bow of red ribbon. Was there anyone in the world who could be sending her a box that night? Certainly not her mother nor her sister, nor any of her friends who had exchanged presents in the morning. Mrs. Gray evidently had not sent it and there was no one else in her small list of friends who would have taken the trouble.

"Anne, you funny child, don't you see we are all waiting impatiently?"

said Grace at last.

Anne slipped off the ribbons and opened the package. In the box was some object, carefully done up in more tissue paper.

"It looks like a mummy," exclaimed Hippy.

Untying the wrappers, Anne held up to the curious view of the others a large doll.

At first she hardly comprehended what it was and held it out at arms'

length looking at it wonderingly. It was dressed as a man in a black suit with a long Prince Albert coat, very crudely made on close inspection, but still cut and fitted to give the right effect. The face had been cleverly changed with paint and putty, and pinned on the head was a black felt hat, constructed out of the crown of an old one evidently, in which had been sewn some lank black hair.

A card was tied around the doll's neck, and some one looking over Anne's shoulder read aloud the following inscription written upon it:

"Why have imitation actors when you can get real ones?"

Anne gave a gasp.

Who could have played this cruel trick upon her? She knew her four friends had never spoken of the happenings of Thanksgiving night, but such secrets would leak out in spite of everything, and there may have been others in the audience who had recognized her. Moreover, her father himself would not have hesitated to tell who she was, so that it was not difficult to understand how the story had spread.

But who would have the heart to hold her father up to ridicule in this way, and to cause her such secret pain and unhappiness? While her thoughts were busy, David had seized the doll and wrapped it up again.

He was very angry, but it was wiser to keep silent.

"What was it, dear?" demanded Mrs. Gray, who had not been able to hear the message written on the card.

"Just a silly trick on Anne, Mrs. Gray," replied David, for Anne was too near to tears to trust the sound of her own voice.

"Something about actors, wasn't it?" asked Julia Crosby, who was hovering near, and before she could be stopped, she had s.n.a.t.c.hed the doll from Anne's lap. The covers fluttered to the floor and the others pressed eagerly around to get a glimpse of it.

David leaped to his feet so vigorously that he upset a chair.

"Give that back!" he commanded. "It is not yours."

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Give That Back! It Is Not Yours."]

"I will not," answered Julia Crosby. "Neither is it yours."

"I say you will," cried David, furiously, losing his temper completely.

"Get it if you can!" challenged the girl, darting through the crowd with David at her heels.

Suddenly there was a crash, a startled cry and the great fir tree with all its ornaments and lighted candles fell to the floor.

CHAPTER XVII

AFTER THE BALL

Yes, here was the hitch that Anne had secretly dreaded and which the other girls had anxiously hoped to avoid.

She had not dreamed what it would be, but she had felt it coming all evening, ever since she had seen Miriam hovering near the library door.

And, in a way, Miriam was connected with the disaster. Had not Miriam's guest and chum exceeded all bounds of politeness by prying into other people's affairs? No doubt, as she fled from David, her dress had caught in one of the branches of the tree and so pulled it over.

All this darted through Anne's head as she stood leaning against the wall while the room was fast filling with smoke and the pungent odor of burning pine.

Suddenly, some one at her elbow deliberately called "Fire! Fire!" These were the same ominous words she had heard Thanksgiving night, only they seemed now more alarming, more threatening. Who could be so foolish, so ill-advised as to scream those agitating words in a roomful of girls and boys already keyed up to a high pitch of excitement? Anne turned quickly and confronted Miriam.

"Don't do that!" exclaimed Anne. "You will only make matters worse."

Miriam looked at her scornfully, although it was evident she had not noticed her before.

"Be quiet, spy," she hissed, "and don't make trouble."

"I suspect you of making a great deal," returned Anne, calmly.

She was not afraid of this pa.s.sionate, spoiled girl, and only the fact that Miriam was the sister of David, her devoted friend, kept Anne from saying more.

In another moment, the entire Christmas tree was in a bright blaze. Anne had climbed up to a chair, and thence to the table that the crowd had pushed against her as it ran. Anne was about to leap to the floor when Grace and Tom Gray dashed in with an armful apiece of wet blankets. With the help of the others they spread the blankets over the burning tree and the blaze was extinguished almost as soon as it was born.

"No harm has been done," said Tom. "The canvas covering saved the floor and fortunately all the furniture has been taken out anyhow. It's all right, Aunt Rose. n.o.body hurt; nothing damaged. I never heard of a more accommodating fire in my life."

"Open the windows now and let out the smoke," ordered Mrs. Gray, "and, if you have all finished eating, I think you had better come into the drawing room while the servants clear out this debris. Tom, please tell the musicians to play a waltz. I do not want my guests to carry away any unpleasant impressions of this house."