Miss MIDAS

Auckland Star, Volume LXII, Issue 96, 24 April 1931, Page 9 (Supplement)

Miss MIDAS

By NORMAN PENLEY (Autnor or " The Loveless Isle," etc.)

CHAPTER XXV. The Girl with the Golden Touch. From the time of James Melbourn's disappearance, the Press of London 'never quite lost its interest in Heather At first, the story of her pluck in carrying on her father's business appealed strongly to the public, and the popular papers exploited it for all it was worth. "Miss Midas," "The girl with the golden touch," were favourite headlines. "The girl who thinks in millions" was another, grossly exaggerated, of course, for Heather had never touched a transaction involving even a million francs, much less a million pounds. Other papers wrote up her attractiveness so alluringly that she had several letters from unknown men insinuating that she needed, above all, that, support and protection which only marriage can give, and each writer hinted that lie was destined from the beginning of time to be her life's partner both in business and the home. At first this nonsense amused her intensely. But vanity is born among the weedy growths of admiration, and she came to regard this publicity and its aftermath as a kind of incetjse which she enjoyed as much as the popular actress of the hour enjoys the fulsome adulation of unknown admirers and susceptible "critics." The effect of it was to give her a totally unjustified decree of confidence in herself. While she followed fairly closely her father's advice concerning moneymaking transactions, she forgot entirely, when they succeeded, that she was merely his pupil, and persuaded herself that her own financial genius was responsible for the prosperity which the firm of Melbourn and Soil was enjoying. Old James was irritated by her vanity, but he recognised that a girl of twenty-three, suddenly plunged into a world to which she was utterly unaccustomed, and placed, too, in an utterly false position, is very likely to make mistakes and at times to lose her bearings. At first he endured her egoism with parental patience, 'believing it would pass, hut it showed no signs of passing, and one day James took her to ta.sk. To his astonishment he found that he had no longer to deal with the Heather of other days, the reserved and obedient daughter who meekly responded, "Yes, daddy" to his instructions. There was no altercation, no "row." Heather told him calmly that •she was mistress of the firm, that she was no child, and that she had been dominated for too long by his forceful personality. Thereafter she left him alone. The weekly sum of money which he needed came as usual in its registered envelope, but there was no letter with it, nor did she put in an appearance on the usual day of their weekly Solio lunch. So James ceased his visits to London. At first he was very hurt and very angry at this treatment, but one day his mood changed, and he was convinced that Heather, after all, was right, though she might have written a line of explanation. What convinced him was tlv.3 appearance in a newspaper of the theory that Heather was in "psychic communication" with her father. A story like that could not circulate on the Stock Exchange for long without coming to the ears of a journalist, and the man who had picked it lip had certainly made the most of it. There was a whole column devoted to it, illustrated by a photograph of Heather. On James, who had always been timid of publicity, the headlines had a disturbing effect. His old hands trembled as he held the paper and read: — ADVICE FROM BEYOND THE GRAVE. Girl's Share Operations Guided by Dead Father. "MISS MIDAS" AGAIN. He could not bring himself to read the whole of the column; in any event, his hands shook so violently that reading was impossible. CHAPTER XXVI. Fortune's Wheel in Reverse. "Yes, Mr. Petter, I suppose it means a loss?" "I am afraid it is what Mr. Melbourn would have called a very neavy loss. I don't want to over-rate it, Miss Melbourn, but in my twenty years with your father I don't remember so big an adverse balance on any transaction." "But we did very well early in the month on Pacific Rubbers. And then we cleared a 40 per cent profit on that quick turnover of Asphalts. That comes in this month's accounts, too." Mr. Petter smiled, a sort of milk-and-6oda smile. "You see, Miss Melbourn, while we did well on those transactions, they were small affairs compared to this, and I'm afraid that the loss here not only washes out the profits on all the share deals this month, but it means that we shall have a fairly large loss to face on the month's work in that department, unless we have some very exceptional luck with anything now pending." There was a note of rebuke in Mr. Petter's voice, and Heather felt the censure more than he imagined, for she alone knew that the profitable transactions, relatively small and well-con-sidered enterprises, were those advised by her father, whereas the deal which had disturbed Mr. Petter was a purchase of her own choice. She had no intention of arguing with the man, much as she resented the implied rebuke. She merely replied with an iciness which penetrated even Mr. Petter's insensitive hide: "I do my best, Mr. Petter, but I am not superhuman, in spite of what the papers say. 1 am as liable as anyone to make a mistake. I cannot regulate the market." "Of course, Miss Melbourn, 1 didn't mean to suggest that the loos is anything to worry about. I just wanted to point out that the purchase was a heavier commitment than Mr. Melbourn would have undertaken." "Thank you for your solicitude, Mr. Petter. . . . Now I must go to lunch." He took his dismissal with all the dignity of the man who thinks he knows best, and whose advice had not been heeded.

Heather searched among her papers for a letter. She found it and read it I again, to confirm the hour and place appointed for the luncheon. She reflected once more that it was extremely kind of Mr. Ollyett to invite her to lunch. Most of the men in the City either ignored her or treated her as though she were some monstrosity. At meetings and functions she had attended in the City, they approached her as small hoys at a fair approach the booth where the bearded lady is on view. To them she was abnormal, almost unnatural. But Ollyett, from the first, had exhibited a neighbourly interest in her, and, what was more, he had treated her as he would treat a man in business. He did not simper compliments and embarrassed nothings, like an awkward youngster asking for a dance. So she had accepted his invitation, and showed genuine pleasure when he greeted her in the foyer of the fashionable Kestaurant Leopold, in Regent Street. Over luncheon he came straight to the point. This was a business luncheon, and he proposed, he said, to talk shop, just as he w'ald to any City man. For upwards of an hour they discussed the usual talk of the City of London. They talked of underwriting, of good "lock-ups," of short-dated bills, and a host of similar subjects. Cunningly, he insinuated into her mind a good deal of advice, and he contrived to weaken her confidence in certain investments she had undertaken on her father's directions. He could hardly have had a more favourable moment for hie purposes. As a result of her talk to Mr. Petter, Heather's self-esteem had been somewhat shaken, and she had a feeling that she needed a little guidance. But this timely meeting was no mere stroke of good fortune for Ollyett. He Kad inside information of what was happening in the Melbourn office, and had timed his approach accordingly. He had taken care, of course, that the shares he had advised her to buy were those in which his difficult but valuable client, Sir Simon Loanes, were deeply interested. ; From Ollyett's point of view, the luncheon had been an unqualified success. He felt confident that what he had insinuated into Heather's mind would bear fruit. That gave him a good basis of satisfaction, but he was also delighted with the company of this attractive woman. "Girl" was the word which the Press used to describe her. He could understand that; it enhanced her achievements, and made her appear a sort of juvenile prodigy. The term was misleading. Heather had the poise of a woman of affairs, yet for all her air of assurance and self-confidence she showed, at times, a delightful lack of sophistication, and the fact that she controlled a business never obscured, in tho mind of any man under sixty, that she was extremely pretty. She was a woman whom men admired and women inspected, as Ollyett realised when he escorted her from the restaurant. What he did not realise was that his middleaged rotundity made an excellent "background" for her slim, well-tailored figure, and his rolling gait drew attention to the dignity with which she moved. "Now, Miss Melbourn, may I taxi you back, to the city?" he inquired as they reached the big entrance hall. "Thank you, but I'm going to Bond Street. Business takes up so much of my time nowadays that I'm allowing myself to get disgracefully shabby. If I don't see about a hat at once I shall soon be taken for an office cleaner." He laughed noisily at that, and Avas about to make a suitable comment on the elegance of her clothes, when suddenly a tall man strode —almost dashed —from a settee at the side of the hall and bowed to Heather. Ollyett was vaguely conscious of knowing the man, but he could not identify him exactly until Heather said, in a voice that betrayed emotion: "Mr. Ollyett, you know Captain Huntingdon, I think." The two men recalled their earlier meeting, but both were obviously embarrassed. Ollyett quickly perceived that this encounter was £8 unexpected by Heather as it was by himself, although, as he mused later, you can never be sure when a woman is acting. "Look here, Miss Melbourn, I'm afraid I'm in the way now. As I can't take you back to the city, perhaps you'll excuse me, and I'll be off." Both Heather and Huntingdon made polite protests, but it was obvious to him that he was distinctly out of place, and he insisted on leaving, his surprise at the occurrence being changed to perplexity by the look of anxiety and displeasure which Heather could not disguise when she bade him good-day. For a moment Heather and Huntingdon faced one another in silence. "Shall we sit down ?" said Huntingdon, indicating the settee from which he had sprung a few minutes earlier. She made no reply, but accompanied him. "Well, Heather, I've come. I was here at two-thirty as your message said, but I didn't know you were lunching here. I thought you might be coining here from some other place." "Gerry," she said, a little angrily, "what's all this a,bout? I've sent no message." "But look," he said, drawing a small slip of buff paper from his pocket. This is the telephone message received at the barracks just as I was going to lunch. I hurried over lunch, changed into mufti, and here I am, as per orders." She read the buff slip without taking it from his hand. There, written in a neat, clerkly hand, was: "Telephone message for Captain Huntingdon. Received 12.46 p.m. Miss Melbourn will be glad if Captain Huntingdon can meet her in the entrance to Leopold's restaurant at 2.30 to-day." There was nothing else on the slip save the date and the signature and rank of the telephonist who had received the message. "That's queer," she observed, reluctantly taking the paper between her gloved fingers. "I sent no such message." (To be continued daily.)