Janet Hardy in Hollywood Part 12

Cora and Margie finished the part Miss Williams had a.s.signed, and looked anxiously toward the dramatics teacher.

"That was very nicely done," said Miss Williams. "Janet and Helen next and put plenty of feeling into your interpretations."

From the platform Janet could look down on Cora and Margie. There was a thin sneer on Cora's lips and Janet felt Helen, standing close beside her, tremble.

"Ready?" she asked. Helen nodded.

Janet's lines opened their brief tryout roles. She spoke them clearly, but somehow the spark needed to add vigor and brilliance was lacking. She was thinking too much about Helen.

The lines and action snapped to Helen and she picked them up instantly.

Janet thrilled. Helen had forgotten Cora and Margie. She had forgotten even Miss Williams. She was living her part. She was Gale Naughton, the dark, lovely heroine of "The Chinese Image." The lines came smoothly and without effort.

Then they were through, a little breathless, their hearts beating rapidly. Janet was the first to turn toward Miss Williams and before the instructor spoke, she knew Helen had made a deep impression with her interpretation of Gale.

"Splendid. I liked that very much," said Miss Williams, who was not given to compliments. "If you'll be good enough to wait a few minutes, I'll be back."

"Will you announce the winners then?" asked Cora, her dark cheeks flushed with excitement and her brown eyes glowing.

"Yes," promised Miss Williams, hurrying from the room.

"Why do you suppose she left to make her tabulations?" asked Helen, her voice low.

"Probably didn't want us to know just how she rated us. She's got a percentage system all her own she uses in casting parts. It won't be long now," said Janet.

"The sooner the better. I'm all fluttery inside."

"Maybe you think Cora and Margie aren't. They can't even sit still."

Which was true. Cora and Margie were walking restlessly up and down the far side of the a.s.sembly, looking anxiously toward the double doorway through which Miss Williams would return.

Five minutes slipped away. Then another five and it stretched out into fifteen minutes before the quick footsteps of the dramatics instructor could be heard in the hallway. Involuntarily Cora and Margie joined Janet and Helen at the front of the large a.s.sembly room.

Miss Williams came in briskly, a slip of paper in her right hand, and Janet, who was nearest, saw two names written on the slip.

"Sorry I kept you so long, but I'm trying to be very fair in making the final selections," explained Miss Williams.

"Go on, go on," burst out Cora. "Who won?"

Miss Williams frowned.

"Well, I'm sorry, Cora."

The dark-haired senior interrupted her sharply.

"You mean I didn't win?"

"I mean that Helen gave a more convincing interpretation of the part. She gets the leading role."

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 role. 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 att.i.tude," 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 role. 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 role 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 a.s.signed 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, a.s.suring 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.