CHAPTER II Clarissa Valentine
“Isn’t that the girl who was sitting alone at the next table?” askedJudy. “I noticed her watching you and smiling when you were singing thatsong, Irene. She seemed to be enjoying it.”
“I knew I shouldn’t—”
Irene stopped. The girl at the cashier’s desk was really in trouble. Hervoice had risen to a wail.
“You’re a thief!” she cried out melodramatically. “Daddy warned meagainst people like you.”
“Your daddy should have warned you to be more careful of your money,”the cashier retorted sarcastically. “If you’ve lost twenty dollars—”
“I didn’t lose it,” she insisted. “You took it from me!”
“Poor girl! She really thinks she’s been cheated,” Irene whispered.
“She’s beautiful,” said Flo, “especially when she’s angry. That girlought to be in advertising. She’s just the unspoiled type of beautywe’re looking for. Of course, she ought to do something about her hair.”
“Shampoo it with golden hair wash, I suppose? Please, Flo, don’t try tomake her over,” Irene pleaded. “She’s in enough trouble as it is.”
“It looks as if the cashier is going to win the argument,” observedJudy. “I feel sorry for the girl if he really is trying to cheat her.”
“More likely she’s trying to cheat him. She could be putting on an act,”declared Pauline. “There, I told you so. Now she’s turned on the tears.”
In a moment the weeping country girl was surrounded by a little knot ofconcerned people who had left their tables to try and settle the matter.As they pressed toward him the cashier flung open the cash drawer.
“You see!” he pointed out. “There’s no twenty! I haven’t changed atwenty-dollar bill all day. She’s made a mistake—”
“I did not,” the girl retorted tearfully. “I know what I gave you. Itwas a twenty. Now I don’t have money enough for my fare home.”
“Where do you live?” he asked as if concerned.
“If I tell you, will you give me my nineteen dollars?”
“No!” he snapped. “You can’t get away with a trick like that.”
“Then I’ll call the police,” she threatened. “I won’t let you cheat meout of all the money I have.”
“Do you think the police will believe you?” the man inquired in a lowertone.
“I don’t know!” cried the girl. “I don’t know what happened to my twentydollars if I didn’t give it to you.”
“There!” he exclaimed triumphantly. “You’ve admitted you lost it beforeyou came into this restaurant.”
“I did nothing of the kind. Doesn’t anybody in New York care about thetruth?” The girl seemed to be asking this question of the other peoplein the restaurant. “Please, mister,” she began to plead, “give me backmy change so I can go home.”
“I’m sorry.” The cashier seemed almost sympathetic. Yet he remained firmin his refusal to give the girl any money, insisting that she must havelost the bill she thought she gave him.
“Come, sit with us and tell us all about it.” Judy offered on impulse.“We care about the truth.”
“Then you’ll look in that man’s pockets,” declared the nearly hystericalgirl. “He took it—”
“We would report him to the manager,” Florence Garner suggested.
“And make him lose his job? Mistakes happen,” declared Pauline Faulkner.“We have no way of knowing which of you is in the right.”
“That’s true.” The girl controlled her sobs and said, “It’s kind of youto take an interest in me. I needed that twenty—”
“If we each chip in five dollars, you’ll still have money enough to takeyou home. You may consider it a loan,” Irene said.
“Thanks.” The girl smiled for the first time. “You’re a genuine GoldenGirl. I’ve seen you on television. I recognized your voice, too, whenyou sang that funny song. You’re Irene Meredith!”
“Indeed I am.” Irene introduced the other girls and offered the newcomerthe vacant chair at the table.
“Now our phantom friend is real,” declared Judy.
The girl looked startled. “I hope I’m real. Once,” she confessed, “Ilooked in the mirror, and there was no reflection. It scared me half outof my wits. Why do you call me a phantom friend?”
“We were pretending we had a fifth girl at the table. It was just ajoke. You do have a name, don’t you?” Judy asked.
“It’s Clarissa,” the girl replied. “Clarissa Valentine.”
“That sounds like a stage name,” declared Pauline. “You aren’t anactress, are you?”
“No, but I’d like to be. That’s why I came to New York,” Clarissaadmitted. “At home we had a little theater group for a while. Butthey’re old-fashioned down there. Some of the people in my father’sparish didn’t think it proper for a minister’s daughter to act on thestage. We had to give up the little theater, so I coaxed Daddy to let mecome here. I thought I could get a little part on TV, but I was wrong. Icouldn’t get any kind of a job. I was all out of money when Daddy sentme that twenty dollars for Christmas. He said he hoped I’d spend it fora ticket back home to West Virginia. I was going to take the traintonight.”
“You can still take it if you let us help you. Meantime,” FlorenceGarner suggested, “why don’t you join us for a tour of Radio City, mytreat?”
“Do you mean it?” asked Clarissa, obviously surprised. “Touring RadioCity was one of the things I especially wanted to do. Will we seeourselves on television?”
“We certainly will.”
“Are you joking?” asked Judy. “How could we—”
“You’ll see,” Irene promised. “There’s a live show you may catch if youhurry. But perhaps you’d rather wait and see mine tonight. Francine Dowis playing the Sleeping Beauty. You’ll love her in it. I’m lucky to haveher as a guest on my show. She can really act.”
“So can you, Irene.”
The Golden Girl of TV and radio tossed Judy’s compliment aside. “I cansing and tell stories. That’s about all. A part like this takes realtalent. When you see the show you’ll understand. Notice the equipmentand don’t be afraid to ask questions of the guide while you’re takingthe tour,” Irene continued. “You’ll enjoy my show more if you know thetypes of cameras being used and understand what the men on the floor aredoing.”
“Who are the men on the floor?” asked Clarissa.
“I haven’t time to tell you now. The guide will explain it. I must dash,or I’ll be late for rehearsal. Our studio is way uptown. Here’s theaddress.” Irene handed Judy a card on which she had written, “Admitfour.” “That includes Clarissa if she wants to come. You know I’m not onone of the big networks.”
“You could be,” Florence began.
“Please,” Irene stopped her. “I won’t be on anything if I’m late forrehearsal. Turn in your contributions, girls, and let’s go.”
Clarissa seemed almost too eager to accept the four bills the girlsoffered her. They paid the cashier, counting their change carefully, andleft the restaurant together.
Outside, the wind had increased, sending swirls and flurries of snowahead of them as they crossed the street. They could scarcely see eachother through the whiteness in the air.
“I’ll leave you here. Cheer up, Flo. I’ll let you know my decision in aday or two,” Irene promised as she hurried off.
“Talk her into it, Judy,” urged Pauline.
The four girls had entered the RCA Building, glad of the warmth theyfound inside.
“Talk her into _what_?” asked Judy. “I’m afraid I don’t know thelanguage. Do you have a new sponsor for Irene?”
“Yes, the golden hair wash people.”
“Oh,” Judy said and was suddenly silent.
“Would she be on one of the big networks?” asked Clarissa.
“Yes, the biggest. You’d see her on your TV at home, Judy. Isn’t thatworth thinking about?
You can talk her into it if anyone can,” Flourged.
“I’ll discuss it with her. How do the rest of you feel about it?” askedJudy.
“I think she ought to accept the offer,” Pauline volunteered. “There’snothing wrong with commercials if they’re in good taste. Lots of starsdo them.”
“It’s a selling job like any other. The sponsor pays for the program,”put in Flo. “I wish Irene could see it that way. She could sell goldenhair wash.”
“She doesn’t believe in it,” Judy objected. “If she used the stuffherself it would be different.”
“I’d use it. I’d do anything,” declared Clarissa. “I’d dye my hair greento get on TV.”
“That’s hardly ever necessary,” laughed Flo.
“Do we really see ourselves on television when we take this tour?”Pauline questioned.
“I think so.”
Judy asked at the information desk to make sure and came back allexcited. “It’s true!” she exclaimed. “The guide just told me.”
“Then what are we waiting for?” asked Clarissa.
Taking Judy’s arm, she pulled her on down the concourse until they cameto a high desk where tickets were being sold. Judy found herself payingfor them although Florence Garner had been the one to suggest the tour.
Clarissa clutched her ticket eagerly and whispered, as if to herself, “Ihope I _show_. It would be terrible if I just faded away.”