MISS NAPOLEON
By V. M. METHLEY
SYNOPSIS Wilson Hall, an American artist travelling from New York to England on the liner Gloriana, meets a mysterious girl, Leonie Valence, employed as a governess. Also on board is Captain Struan, a pioneer of military aviation, very much in love with Chrissie Ryland and they are friends of Hall. CHAPTER I.—(Continued) "That's enough," Chrissie gave a little wriggle. "I'm tired of myself. Look at something else, both of you, something more worth while." It was to the credit of Struan's insight that lie realised the girl's sincerity. "All right, dear," he said. "We won't tease you any more. Let's —" * He broke off as the door opened, Miss Valence stood there, still wearing her grey coat and black hat. At Hall she scarcely glanced; it was as though she had , already summed him up, but her steady, level eyes surveyed Chrissie Ryland for an appreciable time and, reaching Ranny Struan, paused there even longer. From there her look passed swiftly over Mrs. Ryland'scomely middle-aged face, and arriving at Mrs. Burpham-West, she spoke quietly. "Derry says that he will not go to sleep until you have kissed him goodnight. He says you promised him —1 did not know whether you had, so I came to ask." "My, really . . . yes ... I believe I did . . ." Mrs. Burpham-West's speech and thoughts were as incoherent as her features. "Poor little fellow . . . but couldn't you have soothed him Miss Valence . . . coaxed him to go to sleep? Surelv—•"
"Perhaps I could," the girl answered. "But i thought you would rather I told you." She was gone as silently as she had come, before Mrs. Burpham-West, muttering peevishly, could rise clumsily to her feet. "What a good-looking girl!" Chrissie Ryland spoke enthusiastically. "She's like—like—. Anyway, she came at the right moment, just when I'd told you to look at something worth while." Once more Hall realised the sincerity of the girl's words, but this time Struan did not respond. He was still staring at the door, as though expecting the greycoated figure to return And Hall, glancing at him quickly, saw that the young man's eyes had a dazed, almost bewildered look.
"Who is she?" Chrissie spoke to Mrs. Burpham-West, who paused on her way to the door to answer. "Oh, that's just Miss Valence —my nursery-governess," she said petulantly, and went out. Chrissie Ryland, turning to the men, made a little incredulous gesture, which Struan translated with his boyish laugh. "Some nursery-governess, eh?" he said.
CHAPTER 11. AN* AIK PIONEER Hall awoke next morning to see a heaving slate-grey sea which swung up and down across the circumference of his cabin porthole. He lay back with closed eyes cursing the Providence which made him so bad a sailor. For twenty-four hours he held to the same attitude, while the Gloriana proceeded doggedly on her way. Then the sea subsided, the sun shone and the sufferers struggled on deck, Hall among them. Children's voices and laughter matched the fresh, sunlit air, the clean-swept look of sea, sky and ship. A swing had been put up, and the three little Burpham-Wests were piled into it, giggling and shouting, pushed by their governess. She still wore the grey coat, but she was hatless and the fact changed her oddly. "Her head would be magnificent on a man," Hall thought. "On a girl it's almost, too much, with hair added. She makes the least of that, though, wisely; she knows the right lines to take."
It was fine silky chestnut hair, worn very close to the head, parted at the 'side and drawn back, with the ends tucked under in some cunning fashion, and one lock straggling over the forehead, disarranged by her exertions. She pushed it back, laughing and ! stepped away from the swing, then j caught sight of Hall ancL came toward him. "You've been bad," she said. "You Btill look ill." "Don't rub in mv inferiority, Miss Valence," Hall laughed ruefully. "I'm feeling feeble and aged enough as it is." "Yes, it makes you seem much older certainly." Her eyes under their level brows were surveying him with a kind of merciless simplicity. Ho could see their colour now, hazel, of that indeterminate shade which can appear blue, grey, green, brown or even yellow according to the light in the atmosphere or the mood of their possessor. Along the deck Struan and Chrissie Ryland came swinging, the girl with the sun shining on her uncovered head and striped yellow and white dress. They stopped beside Hall with a friendly word or two from the young man and a little exclamation from Chrissie.
"Oil, Mr. Hall, you're looking more than ever like the Doge Loredano this morning. You know, that picture in the London National Gallery—Bellini, isn't it? I simply adore him, the Doge, [ mean. Of course, you're ever so much younger ..." "Miss Kyland, if you only knew how those kind words heal the wounded vanity which Miss Valence lias scarified !" Hall glanced toward the other girl. She answered coolly without the slightest response to his smile. "I never pay compliments. 1 warn you of that.' "She doesn't! Don't 1 know it already?" Strnan made an expressive grimace. "She put mo through a regular General Knowledge Examination yesterday, and then gave me to understand that a 'p.s.c.' after one's name didn't mean very much, in her opinion." "Well, your Staff College certainly doesn't seem to teach history, or geography, or French." Miss Valence shrugged those expressive shoulders of hers. "I merely wondered what the letters did represent." "Merely wondered!" the young man groaned. "After reducing me to utter wornihood and making .me appear a congenial idiot in the presence of my future wife! Hut never mind, Chrissie darling, you'll lie proud of me vet as one of Great Britain's first army fliers, even if I couldn't tell her the latitude of Aconcagua, or anything about the Treaty of Baylen." "i didn't know that there were any Air Regiments in the British Army;" there was an awakening of interest in Miss Valence's voice. "What a comfort to hear her confess ignorance of anything!" Strnan apostrophised a swooping gull. "There aren't —yet. But we've an aviation school at Netheravon on Salisbury Plain and quite a number from various regiments and from the Navy and Marines are learning to fly. It's the greatest game in the world—oh! 1 can tell you Great Britain isn't going to be behind other nations in the air. We've made a good start already."
(COPTRIGET)
An arresting story of a remarkable personality whose feminine appeal is ever present, but whose life purpose leads to strange heights. »
"But America and France were first," Miss Valence said softly. "I don't deny it. They did the sprinting at the beginning of the race, but there's such a thing as catching up before the tape is reached, and that's what we're going to do. 1 fancy." "There isn't much credit in flying the machines that, other people have invented !" 1 didn't mean that." Struan flushed at the scorn in the cold voice. "We're studying design a l.«io, and we've made a good ileal of progress. Some of us go in for it pretty seriously, in this year of grace 191*2, Miss Valence." "Designing flying machines, do you mean ?"'
"Yes. That's why I've been to America, as a matter of fact. But I'm not going to bore you with a. lot of technical stuff, that's the worst of starting on one's own pidgin. 1 suppose, with the usual vanity of mankind. I'm merely trying to prove to you, Miss Valence, that I'm not the hopeless simpleton you imagine." "I thought nothing of the kind —and I'm afraid I've been acting the sehoolinarm. Forgive me. won't you?" Suddenly the austere lines of the girl's face broke into a smile and Hall caught his breath in amazement at the transformation. Upon Uanny Struan, for whom the smile was directly intended, the effect was even more marked. He coloured, stammered, protested that there was nothing to forgive—that she'd every right .... and wouldn't she and Chrissie like an ice. . . the steward 1 chap was over there. ... | In another moment he was gone in quest of the steward and his tray, while an outburst of quarrelling among the Burpham-West children drew their governess hurriedly back to her duties. "So you've made friends while 1 was prostrate?" Hall smiled at Chrissie Ryland. "With Miss Valence? Yes —at least — well, I don't think ono makes friends with her easily," Chrissie frowned. "She's somehow—different." "Yes, 1 feel that way myself," Hall answered. "1 fancy it's because Bhe seems so.extraordinarily sure of herself. And most of us aren't." , "M'm," Chrissie nodded. '-'She'd never give herself awav, hut the rest of us do all the time in bits here and there —big bits if we like people. I'm talking nonsense; I'm no earthly good at explaining myself or other people. And there's Rannie waiting to play tennis." • , . Hall, loft alone, established himself in a deck-chair and idly watched the panorama of liner life passing and repassing before him. There was Leonie Valence, sitting with the children, telling them a story it seemed. Her profile was clear cut against- a Wedgewood-blue sky and something in the cameo-like colouring gave Hall the clue he had searched for sub-consciously. He waited eagerly for the chance to speak to her, which came that evening when they met on deck after dinner. The sea had fallen to a flat calm, the sky was cloudless except for a band of mist along the horizon.' But there was a decided chill in the night air and Miss Valence had turned up her coat collar and thrust her hands deep into its pockets.
"But I like cold better than stuffiness." she said. "And up here you can't hear that little evil wind. Didn't you notice it? It was whining outside my porthole like . . . like a ghost beast, a cruel, sneaking beast." "What a vivid imagination you have Hall laughed. "The wind was real, not imaginary; it sounded as if it came from some lonely place at the back of the world. . ." She drew in her shoulders with a shiver, her lace raised. And the sight of the clearly outlined features brought back Hall's discovery to his memory. "I saw something this afternoon," he said. "All of a sudden 1 realised why 1 made such a fool of myself that first evening, it was just a sub-conscious memory, and it came back in a flash." "A memory of what?" "Why, of portraits, busts, medals, gems, cameos, coins! Surely someone must have told you before that you are amazingly like the young Napoleon, the Napoleon of the early days?" For a moment Miss Valence did not answer, but her firmly pressed lips relaxed into a curious little smile. "You're not offended, are you?" Hall asked. "Scarcely. But there is nothing very remarkable about it," she said. "How do'you mean?" Hall frowned perplexedly. "Because . . he was myggrandfather".r r ". Leonie Valence answered quietly.
CHAPTER 111. "BESIDES . ; .1 LIKE YOU" Hall stared. He found himself stammering feebly. "Your grandfather? Do you really mean it?" "Yes. You don't believe me? 1 can see that. Well, I can't help it and I really don't much care whether you do or not. It doesn't alter the fact that the Emperor was my grandfather." Hall was recovering now from the first shock of surprise and protested eagerly. "You misunderstand me, Miss Valence. 1 don't doubt your word for a moment —only you must allow that it was a rather breath-taking announcement. But your likeness to him is so extraordinary that it speaks for itself." "I suppose so." She spoke carelessly, then with a change of tone and a kind of suppressed vehemence. "I've inherited more than mere physical likeness. I'm like him inside as well." "I can believe that," Hall said gravely. "Even from the little I've seen of you."
"Don't think T'm just boasting!" She turned on hiin almost angrily. "It means more to mo than that —means just everything!" "You are ambitious perhaps like him?" Hall spoke ciuestioningly. "Oh that —yes! Who isn't? But what I've chiefly inherited from him —my grandfather—is love and hatred: love of France, hatred of England!" The last word came with fierce violence. She swung round, head lowered. "You think that's melodrama? It isn't! That's what I live for —revenge oil the country that defeated and killed him. It is the purpose behind everything 1 do."
"Behind telling mo this story, for instance?" Hall asked. "Probably. Otherwise you wouldn't have heard it." "My word, I wouldn't like you for an enemy, Miss Valence," Hall ejaculated, and suddenly the altogether charming smile softened her lips. "You won't! Don't be afraid!" she said. "You're not English and besides . . . I like you."
"Then I hope we shan't lose sight of each other when the voyage is over." Hall's formality hid a real desire. "1 don't think wo shall." She looked at him gravely. "I'm sure we were meant to meet . . . Hut I must go down to the children now. Good-night." She had gone, almost before„Hall had timb to answer, but he did jiot move froip his position for some time. "Star-gazing like that at your age—my good fellow, you're a fooi!" he told himself grimly. "And you'll get a most unromaiitic cold in the head. Better see about a whisky. . . (To be con tinned daily.)
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Bibliographic details
New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXV, Issue 23092, 18 July 1938, Page 17
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2,236MISS NAPOLEON New Zealand Herald, Volume LXXV, Issue 23092, 18 July 1938, Page 17
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