"Grace, was that your voice?" whispered David, who had joined the girls during the death-bed scene. But Grace made no reply. She only put her finger to her lips as she held his arm with a detaining hand. There was a panic in the house. The audience rushed for the doors while the actors leaped over the footlights in their mad scramble to escape. Several women's voices took up the cry of fire and the place was in wild confusion. Evidently the man who managed the lights had been too frightened to turn them on again, for the theater still remained in semi-darkness. The four young people did not move while the audience was crowding out of the aisles. "We might as well be suffocated as crushed," observed David. "It's a much more comfortable death, and besides I can't smell any smoke." Grace smiled but was silent. "I'm here at last," announced Anne's well-known voice behind them. And there she was, still in her ragged stage dress, carrying her hat and coat on her arm. "Why, Anne Pierson!" cried Nora, "I thought you were dead and gone." Anne laughed. "Not dead," she said. "But I would certainly have been gone in another half hour. We needn't hurry," she continued. "I don't believe he would ever think of looking for me inside the theater, and, for the time being, this is the safest place." "Anne, why did you never tell us you were an actress!" demanded David. "I was afraid to," faltered the girl. "I was afraid you would all hate me if you knew the truth. Besides, I never acted but six months in all my life. We toured in this play a year ago, and I knew the part perfectly. It would have been cruel of me not to have played to-night. The girl who usually does it was sick and there was no one to take her part. When father told me that, I knew I should have to do it this once, but if the fire panic hadn't started I couldn't have gotten away from him very easily. He would have made a terrible scene. And even then, it might have been difficult. No stranger would have helped me run away from my own father, who is determined that I shall go on the stage. He thinks I have the making of an actress. But I don't like the stage life. It is hard and ugly. I want to study, and be with girls like you." A charming smile radiated her small, intelligent face. "Where do I come in?" asked David, looking at her. "I think you are the best friend I have in the world, David," declared Anne. "I can never forget your kindness." "And now, Mademoiselle Annette Piersonelli," asked David, secretly much pleased at the girl's earnestness, "can't you divest yourself of your ragged dress before we go?" "Yes, indeed," she replied. "I am fully clothed underneath." She slipped off the stage dress and put on her hat and coat. Meanwhile, not a soul was left in the theater except two of the ushers, who were sniffing around trying to find out where the fire scare had originated. "There comes father," whispered Anne. "Can't we hide behind the seats?"