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 passionate, 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.