  In the comfortable, well-furnished living room of the Gramercy Arms, Peggy prepared to call a meeting to order. May Berriman, the retired actress who owned the house, sat regally in a high-backed, thronelike chair. Her hands were busy with a tiny silver bobbin and a tatting needle, making delicate lace; but they seemed to be working with an intelligence of their own while their owner, not even looking at them, was busily observing the faces of “her girls.” Irene Marshall, the house beauty, was gracefully curled up on the couch in the sort of decorative pose hardly ever seen outside the pages of the more expensive fashion magazines. At the other end of the couch, her knees drawn up and her feet tucked under her, sat Gaby (Gabrielle Odette Francine Du-Champs Goulet), looking about her expectantly, her head cocked to one side like a toy French poodle’s. Maggie Delahanty, the dancer, sat cross-legged on the floor like a Hindu, her back straight and her hands loosely folded, a magazine open on her knees. She could sit for hours like this in apparent perfect comfort, in a position the other girls found almost impossible to get into at all. In more conventional positions, seated on chairs, were Greta, Amy, and Peggy. “I guess everybody’s here now,” Peggy said, “so I might as well tell you why I asked you all to meet in here. I need your help, but I didn’t want to explain it several times, because it’s rather a complicated story.” As briefly as she could, Peggy told them about Paula, as Paula had told her. Then she recounted the events of the night before, ending with the doctor’s visit. “When he told me that she had fainted from hunger,” Peggy concluded, “I was so shocked I didn’t know what to say. I’m still not sure I understand how it came to happen, but I am sure of one thing. Paula needs help, and I told her that I would see to it that she gets it.” “She needs some common sense even more than she needs help,” Maggie said tartly. “Unfortunately, I don’t think we have any of that to spare. Why did she let this go on so long without doing something about it?” “Yes, why?” Irene asked. “I know a lot of people who are out of work, but they don’t let themselves starve. I’ve been out of work myself plenty of times, the way every beginner in show business is, and I’ve always gone straight to the unemployment people. The government check hasn’t been much, but it’s been enough to eat on.” “I asked her that,” Peggy said, “and she told me that she didn’t qualify for unemployment insurance. Apparently you have to have worked for a certain length of time before you can collect any insurance, and she hadn’t worked that long when the department store laid her off after the Christmas rush.” “That’s true,” Greta said. “I was in a fix like that myself once, and I had to ask my parents for help until I could get a job. Luckily, I have parents and they have enough to be able to spare some for me.” “Most of us have someone to turn to,” Peggy said, “but Paula’s an orphan, and hasn’t even got any aunts or uncles or cousins. But she does have friends, and that’s what I want to talk to you about.” “Oh, we all of us ’ave understand that alreadee,” Gaby said with a toss of her head. “That part of the problem is no more worree. I give a few dollar each week—we all give a few dollar—nobodee give enough for to miss it, an’ presto! Mademoiselle Paula ’as plentee to live on. No?” “That’s just what I had in mind,” Peggy said, relieved not to have had to actually ask for the money. She had been hoping her friends would offer it as their own idea. “How do the rest of you feel about it?” Everybody nodded agreement and murmured assurance that they would do as much as they could to help. “How much does she need?” asked Maggie, practical as always. “I think about fifty dollars a week would do it,” Peggy answered, “but it doesn’t all have to come from us. There are several members of the cast who are working at other jobs and who would be glad to contribute. In fact, I think they’d be insulted if they weren’t approached about it.” “Won’t Paula object to their knowing all about her troubles?” Amy asked. “I don’t think so,” Peggy said. “Besides, they all saw her faint last night, and some explanation will have to be given. Not only that, but I don’t think we should try to hide it as if it were some disgraceful thing not to have enough money for food. Paula has been hiding her troubles too long, and she’s going to have to accept the fact that you can’t hide trouble and fight it at the same time.” “Very wise, Peggy,” May Berriman approved. “I agree, just as I agree with Maggie that your friend needs some common sense more than she needs help. It’s possible that by helping her in this open way, you may also provide her with a little common sense!” “Speaking of common sense,” Greta put in, “I think it’s about time we got down to dollars and cents in this discussion, instead of just going on vaguely about wanting to help. Does anyone have a suggestion about how much we should all contribute to the Paula Fund?” After mentioning several figures, and after some discussion about how much should come from the Gramercy Arms and how much from the cast, an agreement was reached. “So it’s settled,” Peggy said. “Gramercy Arms will give twenty-five dollars a week, and the cast will give the rest. Now, twenty-five dollars divided among the six of us girls....” “Seven,” May Berriman interrupted. “I may not be a girl any longer, but you’ll grant I am a part of Gramercy Arms.” “Thanks, May,” Peggy said gratefully. “Well, seven then. That comes to ... let’s see. Three-fifty each a week would add up to twenty-four dollars and fifty cents. That’s close enough, I guess, and we can all surely spare that. It’s only fifty cents a day.” “I have another suggestion, Peggy,” May Berriman said. “As you all know, Dot is on tour and isn’t due to return for another three months. I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if Paula were to use her room. Why don’t you ask her to come in here with us and give up that expensive apartment?” Peggy reflected for a minute. “No, I don’t think so,” she said at length. “If she had been willing to move out of that apartment, she would have done it before this. I don’t think she’d be at all happy here. She’s so—well, so secretive, and I think that all she wants is to be left alone. I suppose that sounds pretty strange, and pretty self-indulgent, too, but as I told you, I think she’s having some kind of trouble that we don’t even know about, and she obviously doesn’t want us to know. I don’t think it would be helping at all if we tried to get her to come to live with us.” “Maybe you’re right,” May Berriman said. “One sure way to be of no help at all is to try to change a person’s way of living. At any rate, you can tell her that the room is here for her to use in case she wants to.” “I will,” Peggy said. “And I’d like nothing better than to have her say yes, but I just know she won’t.” Maggie stood up, uncoiling from her cross-legged position in a single, fluid movement. “I guess it’s all settled, then,” she said. “The only thing for us to do now is to get up the money.” Digging into the pocket of her blue jeans, she produced a small wallet from which she extracted three crumpled dollar bills and two quarters. “Here’s my first week’s dues in the Help Paula Club,” she said. The rest of the girls hurried up to their rooms to find money and, five minutes later, after a confused session of change-making, Peggy had twenty-five dollars (May Berriman had insisted on giving an extra fifty cents to make the sum come out even) carefully sealed in an envelope. Thanking their housemates, Peggy, Amy, and Greta excused themselves. They had barely enough time for a quick dinner before reporting to rehearsal. “We’ve got good friends,” Peggy said as they seated themselves in a booth in a nearby restaurant where they often went. “It certainly was generous of them to contribute to a girl they don’t even know.” “That’s one of the nicest things about show business,” Greta said. “I guess it’s because everyone in the business has been out of work and in hard circumstances at one time or another. They’re always willing to help another actor who’s having a hard time. Maybe it’s a kind of insurance policy against the next time they’re in trouble themselves.” “It ought to be even easier to collect the other half of the money from the cast,” Amy commented. “And once we have that, Paula will be all right.” “In a sense, she will be,” Peggy said with a worried expression. “At least she’ll be all right financially. But I don’t think we’ve begun to settle her problems, and I don’t know if we should even try.” “What do you mean?” Amy asked. “What other problems does she have, and why shouldn’t we try to solve them?” “I don’t know,” Peggy said uneasily. “What makes you think something else is wrong?” Greta asked. “I know something else is wrong,” Peggy said firmly. “It’s not just guesswork. The question is whether or not we have a right to poke our noses into Paula’s business.” “Stop hinting, Peggy,” Amy said with unaccustomed sharpness. “Why don’t you just tell us what your suspicions are, and we can all contribute our thinking.” “I suppose that’s best,” Peggy said sadly. “I just hate to tell you that I think Paula still hasn’t told us the truth about herself and the reason she had to go hungry. I saw things when I was at her apartment that convinced me of that. But I don’t know why.” “You think she’s lying?” Greta asked. “Why?” “To begin with,” Peggy said, determined to have the whole thing out in the open, “she’s lying about ever having worked in a department store, and about being a poor orphan. I know because of the clothes I saw in her closet and her bureau when I was getting her pajamas and robe for her.” “How can clothes tell you she never worked in a department store?” Amy asked, puzzled. “Shoes,” Peggy said. “Didn’t you ever notice salesgirls’ shoes? Standing behind a counter all day long is pretty hard on the feet, and your shoes have to be practical and comfortable. Paula had a large collection of shoes in that closet—all of them very smart and fashionable and expensive—but not one pair that a girl could stand in all day long, except for the sport shoes that a department store wouldn’t allow its clerks to wear. You know, moccasins and things like that.” “It makes sense,” Greta said grudgingly, “in a way. But maybe she had work shoes and they wore out and she threw them away.” “Maybe,” Peggy said, “but that doesn’t account for the kind of shoes she did have. For instance, there were high riding boots and low jodhpur boots in that closet. Now, I have a horse at home in Wisconsin, and I know something about riding equipment, and those boots were handmade and must have cost a fortune. Where would an orphan salesgirl get boots like that? And why would she want them in the city? Not only that, but there were ski boots and golf shoes, too, and I have the same questions about those. I suppose it all sounds very nosy and suspicious of me, but I couldn’t help thinking about it and what it means.” “What it means,” Greta said, “is that you’re probably right. From what you say, I’m sure that Paula wasn’t telling the truth about herself. But what can we do about it, and why should we try to do anything? It’s really none of our business, is it?” “That’s just the problem that’s been worrying me,” Peggy confessed. “I keep asking myself whether it’s any of our business who Paula is and what she’s hiding. I think I’ve finally decided that it is.” “In what way?” Amy asked. “Just because we’ve agreed to help her with a little money doesn’t mean we own any part of her, does it? I think we ought to leave her alone!” “Oh, Amy, you can’t think I meant it like that!” Peggy said. “Of course the loan doesn’t give us any right to go poking into her affairs! But the fact that we’re her friends does give us a right. We didn’t get curious about her health, for fear of offending her, and as a result she collapsed from hunger. Now if she’s in some other kind of trouble, and we don’t do something to help, we may regret that just as much.” “That does make sense,” Amy admitted. “It’s just that I hate to go behind her back....” “Why go behind her back?” Greta asked. “Why not just come right out and ask her what’s wrong? Even mention the shoes and boots and things, so that she’ll know why we’re suspicious of what she told you.” “She won’t admit anything’s wrong,” Peggy said. “I tried to ask her at lunch when I went out with her today, but she wouldn’t even talk to me about it. Every time I seemed to be coming close to whatever’s bothering her, she just changed the subject.” “Well, then, what do you think we-all can do about it?” Amy asked. “If she doesn’t want to tell us her troubles, there’s no way that we can force her to do it. I still think we ought to leave her alone.” Peggy shook her head in vigorous disagreement. “That’s just what we shouldn’t do,” she said. “It seems to me she’s been left alone too much, and hasn’t been able to do a good job of taking care of herself.” “But you said that she doesn’t respond to pushing—or direct questions,” Greta commented. “And we certainly don’t want to—to snoop!” Amy put in. “I know,” Peggy agreed. “But there is one thing we can do. We can make every effort to show her that we’re her friends, and to show her that she can trust us. If we do it sincerely, without pushing or snooping, I’m sure she’ll confide in us when she wants to.” “It seems to me that we’ve all made a pretty big effort already,” Greta said tartly. “What more can we do?” “Well,” Peggy said thoughtfully, “if I were Paula, I might be inclined to think that the effort made so far was more charitable than friendly, if the difference is clear. I mean, we’ve helped her with money and all that ... but that’s not exactly what I mean. I think we ought to do something to show her that we’re glad to know her, and glad that she’s in the show, and ... I don’t know. It’s just that I feel that money alone doesn’t say what needs saying to a girl like Paula. She’s a sensitive person, after all, and she might even resent the financial help, in some subtle way.” “You may be right, at that,” Amy said softly. “I know that if I were ever in her position ... having to take money from people ... I’d feel pretty uncomfortable about it. Especially if the people were just—well—just casual acquaintances. And after all, that’s what we are to her.” “That’s just the point,” Peggy said eagerly. “You’ve put it perfectly! We are just casual acquaintances—not close friends. It’s no wonder that she keeps a kind of wall between her and us, even though we are helping her.” “Rather because we’re helping her,” Greta amended. “Everybody knows it’s a lot harder to take help than to give it.” “But what can we do to show her that she’s not just a—a charity case to us?” Amy asked. “That’s what I’ve been asking myself,” Peggy said, “and I think I’ve got one good idea anyhow. It’s not much, but it’s a beginning. Why don’t we give her a little surprise party tonight after rehearsal, to celebrate her coming back to the show and being all right again?” “I think she’d like that!” Amy exclaimed. “What do you think, Greta?” “I think it’s fine,” Greta agreed. “Tonight’s rehearsal is bound to be a strain for her anyhow, and it would be nice to give her a chance to relax and cheer up afterward. How do you want to work it, Peggy?” Peggy thought for a moment before answering. “We might ask her up to the Gramercy Arms after rehearsal,” she suggested. “I’m sure that Gaby and Irene and Maggie would be glad to set up a party for us while we’re gone, and everything could be ready by the time we got back....” “No,” Amy interrupted. “That won’t do. The minute we invited her up to the Gramercy Arms, she’d know there was something special up, and the surprise would be lost. Besides, she’d have to meet the other girls, and there would be the usual strain of new people....” “Not only that,” Greta added, “but there’s no guarantee that she would come back with us after rehearsal. She might be too tired and want to go straight home. And she’s shy about new places and people, anyway.” “How about at the theater?” Amy suggested. But Peggy and Greta vetoed that suggestion on the ground that it would have to include the whole cast, and that would make too large a party to enable them to accomplish their primary purpose, which was to develop a more intimate relationship with Paula. “I know!” Peggy exclaimed. “Why don’t we have the party right in her own apartment? That way, we’ll be sure that she’ll be there, and we can control the number of people! In fact, I think we ought to keep it to just the three of us and Paula! Amy and I can miss rehearsal tonight—you can tell her some thing at the Academy kept us late, and you can come home from rehearsal with Paula. While you and Paula are at the theater, Amy and I can shop and set up a real surprise party!” “Fine!” Greta agreed. “But how are you going to get into Paula’s apartment without a key?” “The superintendent will let us in, I’m sure,” Peggy replied. “He saw us when Mal and I brought Paula home last night, and he saw me again when I was there to pick her up for lunch this afternoon, so he knows that I’m a friend of hers. If we explain about the surprise party, I know he’ll let us in, and not mention it if he sees you and Paula coming home. He seemed like a very nice man, and he was genuinely concerned about Paula. I know he’ll approve of the idea of a party.” “That sounds like a good plan,” Greta agreed. “While you’re setting up the party, and while Paula’s busy rehearsing, I’m sure that I can manage to raise the money from the cast. I’ll bring it with me, and we can give it to her along with the Gramercy Arms money at the same time.” “We can buy a cake and birthday candles too,” Amy suggested, “and as soon as you come, you can tell me how many of the cast members chipped in, and we can put a candle on the cake for every friend Paula has. It will really be something to celebrate!” “Good,” Greta said, nodding her agreement. “Well, we’d better get going now. We’re on a tight time schedule. I have to report at the theater for rehearsal in fifteen minutes, and you have to start your shopping for the party. Mal will probably take it easy on Paula after last night, so you had better be prepared to have us come in on you early. Be sure that you have all the party things set up by ten o’clock.” Picking up their check, the three girls rose to go, looking forward with high spirits to the challenge of breaking down Paula’s wall of reserve and of showing her that there is such a thing as real friendship in what must have appeared to her to be a hard, cold world. |
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