Janet Hardy in Hollywood

Cora’s eyes flashed.

“I might have known that. Too bad I don’t have a father with some influence.”

Cora picked up her coat. “Come on, Margie. We’ve just wasted our time.”

“I’d stay if I were you, Margie,” said Miss Williams. “What I have to say should interest you.”

And in those words Janet knew the decision. Helen had the lead and Margie was to get the second rôle. She was out, but at least she could take it without creating a scene like Cora.

Chapter XI

A FAMOUS DIRECTOR ARRIVES

Miss Williams looked at the three girls remaining and she spoke slowly, choosing her words with care.

“I regret that Cora took that attitude,” she said, “for there was no influence used in my selection of Helen for the lead. She was much better in the tryout than Cora.”

Then the instructor turned to Margie.

“You did a nice bit as Abbie,” she went on, “and I want you to take that rôle. Janet was practically as good as you were on the lines, but you seem a little more like the character. You’re thinner and you flutter around more than Janet, and Abbie is a very fluttery sort of a person.”

Margie grinned. “In other words, Abbie is a dizzy sort of a gal and I’m that type.”

“Call it that if you want to,” smiled Miss Williams. “Do you want the part?”

“And how!”

“Very well. I will expect you and Helen to have your lines for the first act well in hand by Monday night.”

Miss Williams, followed by Margie, left the room and Helen turned to face Janet.

“I’m sorry it turned out this way. I’d rather you had won a part.”

“I’m not,” said Janet, and she said it honestly, for a part in the senior play had meant so much more to Helen. She knew she had done her best, but she had to admit that after all Margie was better suited to the rôle than she.

The air softened. April came and went, and the senior play neared its final rehearsals. Miss Williams drove the cast without mercy for on the success of the play would depend her own opportunity for advancement.

Helen, working every spare moment, became tired and irritable.

“I’ll be glad when it’s all over,” she said. “I never dreamed it would be so hard.”

“You’ll be well repaid when the play is given,” said Janet, who had been assigned to the stage crew. In this capacity she attended almost every rehearsal and she couldn’t help watching Margie go through the lines of Abbie. It was a delightful part, easy to handle, and so breezy and irresponsible.

Costuming took several nights, for Miss Williams was meticulous. Then came the dress rehearsals, the first on Monday night. The play would be given Friday. On the following week came the junior-senior banquet and then graduation and the end of school days.

Janet, watching the play in rehearsal each night, came to know the lines of almost everyone in the cast for the lighting of the show was in her charge. It was up to her to get just the right amount of amber in the afternoon scene and just the right amount of blue to simulate moonlight for the evening scene from the rather antiquated banks of lights on each side of the stage.

Brief letters and a telegram or two had come from Helen’s father, assuring her that he would arrive in ample time for the presentation of “The Chinese Image.” Janet’s father had found a small plot at the rear of their own large lot which yielded an ample supply of worms at almost every spadeful and Indian creek, two miles north of Clarion, was said to abound with bullheads that spring.

On Wednesday night, after a long and tiring rehearsal, Janet and Helen walked home through the soft moonlight of the late May evening.

“I haven’t heard from Dad today. He was going to wire what train he would arrive on. It looks like he won’t be in until the morning of the play.”

“That will be plenty of time. He can stay on longer after the play’s over,” said Janet.

“It won’t be plenty of time if he has to do any more retakes on his last picture. His letters have sounded awfully tired.”

“Let’s walk on down to Whet’s for an ice cream soda. The walk will do both of us good and the soda will be refreshing,” said Janet.

Helen agreed and they walked leisurely, breathing deeply of the flower-scented air; for it was a perfect evening. From far away came the rumble of heavy trucks on a through street, but on their own there was an air of peace and contentment.

“Dad will like this when he finally gets here. He always seems to throw off his cares when he’s back home.”

“Which is why he anticipates coming home so much,” added Janet.

“But it can’t go on this way forever. He needs mother and I’ll be going away to school next fall.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that until after graduation. There’ll be plenty of time to discuss those matters then.” Janet felt somewhat like a very fatherly old man giving advice to a very young girl and she smiled to herself.

At the neighborhood drug store they dawdled over their sodas, thoroughly relaxing after the strenuous hours of rehearsal. On the way home they again walked leisurely, discussing little things about the play that appealed to them.

Helen’s mother, waiting on the porch, called to them the moment they came in sight.

“Hurry up, Helen. I’ve a telegram from your father.”

Helen ran across the lawn with Janet close behind.

“He’s coming, isn’t he, mother?” And to Janet there was something pitiful in Helen’s extreme anxiety for she was so desperately intent upon having her father see her in the leading rôle in the class play.

“He’s coming tonight, dear. He wired saying that he would be on the transcontinental plane which stops at Rubio at midnight. Janet’s father and mother are going to drive us over. You girls had better clean up a bit. We’re leaving right away.”

“I’m so happy,” said Helen. “I was afraid it was a message saying he wouldn’t be able to come.”

Janet hurried on home. Her father had the large sedan out in the driveway and her mother was bustling about the kitchen, making stacks of thin sandwiches.

“Why the sandwiches?” asked Janet.

“I’ve never known the time when Henry Thorne wasn’t hungry. He’s been that way ever since he was a little boy and his wife is too excited to think about that. We’ll have them all over for lunch after we get home.”

“But it will be late. Way after one o’clock and Helen ought to be in bed. She has been keeping terrific hours with the rehearsals.”

“It won’t do her a bit of harm this time. Being with her father will do her more good than anything else. Wrap these sandwiches up and put them in the breadbox so they’ll keep good and moist. Then slice some lemon for the ice tea and put the slices back in the ice box. We’ll stop and get some ice cream on our way in to town.”

They hurried around the kitchen until Janet’s mother noticed the disarray of her daughter.

“For land’s sake, Janet, you’re a sight. Working with the scenery and lights again at school? Well, hurry upstairs and clean up. Then slip into that pale green print that makes your hair look golden. We’ll be ready in five minutes.”

Janet forgot her fatigue and raced upstairs, splashed water on her flushed cheeks, followed that with a few hasty dabs of a powder puff to take the shine off her skin, and then went to her own room where she put on fresh, sheer hose and the green print that was so becoming.