"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 snatched 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." [Illustration: "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.