The young lady, who was waiting too, though not so patiently as the
others, amused herself in drawing them out and foiling them against each
other, with a good deal of youthful tact, and want of charity, for a
while. She grew tired at last.
"They are long coming, uncle," she said, rising from her chair.
"They are here, Mary: putting up the model in the back lobby for the
last hour. Did you think it would be brought in here?"
"I don't know. Mr. Aikens is not here,"--glancing at the timepiece
uneasily.
"He's always slow," said one of the machinists, patting the dog's head.
"But I will rely more on his judgment of the engine than on my own.
He'll not risk a dollar on it, either, if there's a chance of its
proving a failure."
"It cannot be a failure," she said, impatiently, her peremptory brown
eyes lighting.
"It has been tried before," said her uncle, cautiously,--"or the same
basis of experiment,--substitution of compressed air for steam,--and it
did not succeed. But it is the man you reason from, Mary, not the
machine."
"I don't understand anything about the machine," in a lower voice,
addressing the man she knew to possess most influence in the party.
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