plenty of time for a refreshing nap.”
Chapter 8
The miniature volcano erupted with a high-pitched hiss of escaping vapor. There was a crackle from the interior of the little mountain, and sparks shot from the top.
The audience gasped in appreciation. The lecturer, a spindly gnome of a man named Horace Kirk, took a step forward and made a small bow. When he straightened, he beamed at the crowd that filled the hall.
“And thus ends my lecture on the nature of hot vapors,” he said. “My talk next week will concern the principles of electricity.”
A burst of applause filled the room.
Emeline, seated in the second row between Anthony and Priscilla, clapped along with everyone else.
Priscilla could scarcely contain her enthusiasm. She regarded the gnome as though he were one of the dashing romantic poets.
“Was that not the most astonishing experiment you have ever witnessed?” she whispered to Emeline beneath the cover of applause. “I vow, Mr. Kirk’s lectures have opened up a new world to me.”
“Very interesting,” Emeline agreed. Privately she conceded that she was far more intrigued by the subject of antiquities than she was by the wonders of electricity and chemistry, but she had to admit the demonstration that had just concluded was quite exciting. “I must tell you that when you suggested we subscribe to Mr. Kirk’s series of science lectures, I feared they would prove somewhat dull. But that is certainly not the case. Don’t you agree, Anthony?”
“I certainly do,” Anthony said with genuine appreciation. “It was an excellent notion, Priscilla.” He glanced at the small journal on her lap. “I see you managed to fill several more pages with notes again today.”
Priscilla clutched the journal to her bosom and gave Professor Kirk another enraptured glance. “I have learned so much from these lectures. I only wish that I could convince Mama to allow me to purchase some instruments and equipment. I would give anything to be able to set up a proper laboratory where I could conduct experiments. But she refuses to even consider the notion.”
Emeline was not surprised by that news. She had no difficulty whatsoever imagining Lady Wortham’s horrified reaction to the idea of Priscilla setting up a laboratory.
Lady Wortham took her responsibilities as a mother quite seriously. Her chief ambition in life was to see her daughter married to a respectable gentleman from a good family, preferably one who was in line to inherit a comfortable fortune. To that end she had a great deal to work with, Emeline thought, because Priscilla was a very attractive young woman.
True, her friend’s hair was a shade of molten gold that was not considered to be in the first stare of fashion, but Emeline thought the color complemented her blue eyes quite effectively. She also knew that she was not alone in that opinion. Priscilla certainly never lacked for dancing partners at the balls and soirees they attended together. Regardless of the prevailing views of those who set the fashion, it was clear that any number of gentlemen were attracted to ladies with blond hair.
Not that her friend did not possess a number of other fine attributes. In addition to a kind, charming manner, Priscilla was endowed with pretty, delicate features and a gracefully full, rounded figure.
It was unfortunate, in Emeline’s private opinion, that Lady Wortham insisted that her daughter dress only in pink. The color did not particularly suit her.
But as far as Emeline was concerned, her companion’s best features were her intelligence, good humor, and common sense. Those were the factors that had allowed a genuine friendship to blossom between the two of them.
By rights they should have viewed each other as rivals, Emeline thought. Their acquaintance had been fostered and encouraged originally by Lady Wortham for less than altruistic reasons. Priscilla’s matchmaking mama liked the notion of her daughter going about with Emeline
Chapter 8
The miniature volcano erupted with a high-pitched hiss of escaping vapor. There was a crackle from the interior of the little mountain, and sparks shot from the top.
The audience gasped in appreciation. The lecturer, a spindly gnome of a man named Horace Kirk, took a step forward and made a small bow. When he straightened, he beamed at the crowd that filled the hall.
“And thus ends my lecture on the nature of hot vapors,” he said. “My talk next week will concern the principles of electricity.”
A burst of applause filled the room.
Emeline, seated in the second row between Anthony and Priscilla, clapped along with everyone else.
Priscilla could scarcely contain her enthusiasm. She regarded the gnome as though he were one of the dashing romantic poets.
“Was that not the most astonishing experiment you have ever witnessed?” she whispered to Emeline beneath the cover of applause. “I vow, Mr. Kirk’s lectures have opened up a new world to me.”
“Very interesting,” Emeline agreed. Privately she conceded that she was far more intrigued by the subject of antiquities than she was by the wonders of electricity and chemistry, but she had to admit the demonstration that had just concluded was quite exciting. “I must tell you that when you suggested we subscribe to Mr. Kirk’s series of science lectures, I feared they would prove somewhat dull. But that is certainly not the case. Don’t you agree, Anthony?”
“I certainly do,” Anthony said with genuine appreciation. “It was an excellent notion, Priscilla.” He glanced at the small journal on her lap. “I see you managed to fill several more pages with notes again today.”
Priscilla clutched the journal to her bosom and gave Professor Kirk another enraptured glance. “I have learned so much from these lectures. I only wish that I could convince Mama to allow me to purchase some instruments and equipment. I would give anything to be able to set up a proper laboratory where I could conduct experiments. But she refuses to even consider the notion.”
Emeline was not surprised by that news. She had no difficulty whatsoever imagining Lady Wortham’s horrified reaction to the idea of Priscilla setting up a laboratory.
Lady Wortham took her responsibilities as a mother quite seriously. Her chief ambition in life was to see her daughter married to a respectable gentleman from a good family, preferably one who was in line to inherit a comfortable fortune. To that end she had a great deal to work with, Emeline thought, because Priscilla was a very attractive young woman.
True, her friend’s hair was a shade of molten gold that was not considered to be in the first stare of fashion, but Emeline thought the color complemented her blue eyes quite effectively. She also knew that she was not alone in that opinion. Priscilla certainly never lacked for dancing partners at the balls and soirees they attended together. Regardless of the prevailing views of those who set the fashion, it was clear that any number of gentlemen were attracted to ladies with blond hair.
Not that her friend did not possess a number of other fine attributes. In addition to a kind, charming manner, Priscilla was endowed with pretty, delicate features and a gracefully full, rounded figure.
It was unfortunate, in Emeline’s private opinion, that Lady Wortham insisted that her daughter dress only in pink. The color did not particularly suit her.
But as far as Emeline was concerned, her companion’s best features were her intelligence, good humor, and common sense. Those were the factors that had allowed a genuine friendship to blossom between the two of them.
By rights they should have viewed each other as rivals, Emeline thought. Their acquaintance had been fostered and encouraged originally by Lady Wortham for less than altruistic reasons. Priscilla’s matchmaking mama liked the notion of her daughter going about with Emeline
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