CHAPTER XVII
AFTER THE BALL
Yes, here was the hitch that Anne had secretly dreaded and which theother girls had anxiously hoped to avoid.
She had not dreamed what it would be, but she had felt it coming allevening, ever since she had seen Miriam hovering near the library door.And, in a way, Miriam was connected with the disaster. Had not Miriam'sguest and chum exceeded all bounds of politeness by prying into otherpeople's affairs? No doubt, as she fled from David, her dress had caughtin one of the branches of the tree and so pulled it over.
All this darted through Anne's head as she stood leaning against thewall while the room was fast filling with smoke and the pungent odor ofburning pine.
Suddenly, some one at her elbow deliberately called "Fire! Fire!" Thesewere the same ominous words she had heard Thanksgiving night, only theyseemed now more alarming, more threatening. Who could be so foolish, soill-advised as to scream those agitating words in a roomful of girls andboys already keyed up to a high pitch of excitement? Anne turned quicklyand 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 notnoticed 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 passionate, spoiled girl, and only the factthat Miriam was the sister of David, her devoted friend, kept Anne fromsaying more.
In another moment, the entire Christmas tree was in a bright blaze. Annehad climbed up to a chair, and thence to the table that the crowd hadpushed against her as it ran. Anne was about to leap to the floor whenGrace and Tom Gray dashed in with an armful apiece of wet blankets. Withthe help of the others they spread the blankets over the burning treeand the blaze was extinguished almost as soon as it was born.
"No harm has been done," said Tom. "The canvas covering saved the floorand fortunately all the furniture has been taken out anyhow. It's allright, Aunt Rose. Nobody hurt; nothing damaged. I never heard of a moreaccommodating 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 thedrawing room while the servants clear out this debris. Tom, please tellthe musicians to play a waltz. I do not want my guests to carry away anyunpleasant impressions of this house."
The music struck up and the dance began again.
"Well," said Grace, "no one need feel badly about the fire, because aChristmas tree generally has to be burned, anyway, and nothing of valuebut the ornaments was destroyed. So everything is all right."
"It was all my fault," exclaimed David, in a contrite voice. "Mrs. Gray,you will have to forgive me before I can enjoy a clear conscience again.If it hadn't been for that lumbering sophomore, Julia Crosby, I shouldnever have lost my temper the way I did."
"My dear David," cried Mrs. Gray, patting him affectionately on the arm,"you couldn't do anything I would disapprove of. If you wanted to rescueAnne's doll I am sure you had some excellent reason for it."
Mrs. Gray had not heard the history of Anne's father, for Grace and herfriends had kept the secret well, and Anne, herself, had never cared totell the story. She was a quiet, reserved girl who talked little of herown affairs.
"He _did_ have a good reason, Mrs. Gray," put in Grace, "and it wasenough to make him lose his temper. Julia Crosby is everlastinglyplaying practical jokes and getting people into trouble. However, Idon't suppose she upset the tree on purpose," she added, thoughtfully.
"Well, well," exclaimed Mrs. Gray, "let us forget all about it and windup the party with a Virginia reel. Tom and Grace must lead it off, andAnne, you and David watch the others so that when it comes your turn youwill be able to dance it yourselves."
So it was that Mrs. Gray's freshman Christmas ball ended as gayly as ithad started, with a romping, joyous Virginia reel. There was not a soul,except the little old lady herself, who did not join the two long linesstretching from one end of the rooms to the other and when it cameAnne's turn, she was not afraid to bow and curtsey as the others haddone, for she had quickly mastered the various figures of the dance.Moreover, was she not wearing a beautiful dress of pink crepe de Chine?After all a pretty dress does make a great difference. Anne felt shecould never have danced so well in the old black silk.
When the reel was over the boys and girls joined hands and formed animmense circle about their charming hostess, whirling madly around heras they cried:
"Three cheers for Mrs. Gray!"
The old lady was very happy. She waved her small, wrinkled hands at themand called out over the din:
"Three cheers for my dear freshmen boys and girls!"
At length, when the hands of the clock pointed to two, and the last ofthe dancers had departed, Mrs. Gray sank into a chair exhausted.
"I am tired," she said, "but I never in my life had such a good time!"
Was there ever a girl in the world who did not want to exchangeconfidences with her best friends after a party?
Grace and Anne, therefore, were not surprised when two figures indressing gowns and slippers stole into their room, crouching on the rugbefore the fire.
"We've all sorts of things to say," exclaimed Nora, "else we wouldn'tthink of keeping you up so late. In the first place, wasn't it perfectlydelightful?"
"Grand!" sighed the others.
"Everything except that one accident, and the thing that caused it,"answered Grace.
"By the way, Anne, where is the doll?" asked Jessica.
Anne produced it from its box.
"Here it is," she said sadly. "But it was a cruel joke. Can you imaginewho could have done it?"
"I have several suspicions," answered Grace, "but I make no accusationswithout grounds."
The four girls examined the doll carefully.
"My poor father!" exclaimed Anne, her eyes filling with tears.
"I'll tell you what, girls," cried Nora suddenly, "there's more to thisthan just Anne's secret. How did anyone know we were going to have amarionette show? Didn't we keep it dark?"
"Yes," they answered.
"Perhaps it got out through the servants," suggested Jessica.
"It certainly is rather an underhanded business," cried Grace, "forwhoever did this not only must have bribed one of Mrs. Gray's servants,but also must have some way or other raked up Anne's secret. It wasevidently some one who had a grudge against you, poor dear," she added,patting Anne on the cheek.
"Girls!" exclaimed Jessica, who all this time had been looking the dollover carefully, "where have you seen this material before?" She pointedat the fancy red waistcoat the doll was wearing.
"It has a familiar look," answered Nora.
"It looks to me very much like a red velveteen suit I saw somewhere onceupon a time," observed Grace.
"You did see it, Grace. But it was--how long ago? Two or more years,wasn't it?"
"I know," cried Nora. "Miriam Nesbit's!"
"Sh-h-h!" warned Grace. "Remember David. He's just across the hall."
"And he must never know," added Anne, "not if she sent me a dozendolls."
"But I haven't finished," continued Jessica. "I feel exactly like adetective on the scent. This doll is wearing something else that isfamiliar to us all. Anne, you have seen it, I am sure."
They scanned the doll eagerly. The shabby black suit was made of someindescribable material that might have come from anywhere. The redvelveteen waistcoat they had already identified. Then came a littlewhite cotton dickey, with a high standing collar and then----
"The tie!" cried Nora. "The green tie! Is that it, Jessica?"
"You are right," answered Jessica. "Have you never seen that green silkbefore?"
Grace was in a brown study.
Anne could not recall it and Nora was groping in the dark.
"I'll tell you this much," said Jessica, who loved a mystery; "It
justmatches a certain veil----"
"Miss Leece!" exclaimed Grace. "It's a piece of the trimming on an olddress she sometimes wears."
"Exactly," said Jessica. "Who, having once seen it could ever forgetit?"
And so Miss Leece and Miriam had combined forces against poor littleAnne!
Grace Harlowe's Plebe Year at High School Page 17
