Page 26 of Inventing Vivian

Vivian watched his gaze move to her chemicals, labeled properly and sitting on their shelves with flasks, cylinders, a Bunsen burner, a compound microscope, and test tubes. Beneath, in their drawers, were thermometers, pipettes, and the various dishes and syringes she required.

A chalkboard hung on one wall and a corkboard on another. Easels held diagrams, and shelves held gears and other parts. Her tools were lined up neatly.

“It is here,” Vivian said, indicating the bicycle in front of a sunny window. They both stepped toward it. “I’ve removed these cylinders here for oiling.” She pointed to the empty spaces on the engine.

Professor Wallis looked at the engine closely. He turned a wheel, watching the pistons move up and down, and he peered into the steam pipe and water reservoir. “You have diagrams, I assume?”

Vivian spread the papers with her drawings over the worktable and watched as the professor studied them. Nobody had ever looked at the diagrams so closely. She shifted nervously from one foot to the other, not sure of what to make of his interest. Was he impressed? Dissatisfied? She wished she could tell what he was thinking.

“You intend to convert to oil instead of coal?” He pointed to her notes.

“I do,” Vivian said. “Once I can obtain the right parts. It will make the machine lighter, of course, and the smoke will not be as disturbing to the rider.”

Professor Wallis nodded. “A good choice.” He glanced at the vehicle by the window. “As prototypes go, you’ve done a remarkable job with amateur tools, Miss Kirby. Tell me, where did you find a valve rod that fits so perfectly into the exhaust port?”

“A friend helped me,” Vivian said, hardly daring to believe the praise. “His son is a blacksmith.”

“You have improvised masterfully,” Professor Wallis said. He set a hand on the diagrams and looked at her with a serious expression. “Miss Kirby, as you know, entry into the International Exhibition of Industry and Science requires both an academic and a titled endorsement.”

Vivian nodded, her heart pounding.

“I am prepared to offer you both.”

Vivian pulled her brows together. She hadn’t expected that. Naturally, the professor fit the qualifications fully for the academic sponsorship. “But... you... you are not...” She did not know how to tactfully say that he was not a peer. Not unless Queen Victoria had secretly bestowed an earldom on a professor of physics.

“I understand your confusion.” He nodded. “The titled endorsement is, naturally, not mine to offer personally. I do so at the request of a friend, a nobleman who wishes to remain anonymous.”

Seeing her confused expression, he held up a hand. “He meets the proper requirements. And the exhibition committee is aware of his endorsement. It is all above board, I assure you.”

“But why does he choose not to identify himself?” Vivian thought of Baron Harrington. Was he worried for his reputation if people found out he sponsored a woman? Could she trust a person who withheld his name?

“He has his reasons.” Professor Wallis shrugged. “I’ve learned not to question the nobility.” He held his hand beside his mouth as if he were sharing a secret. “Strange lot, they are.”

Vivian tried to smile at his humor, but her emotions were overwhelming, and her thoughts could not keep up. Could this be real? Could she finally be accepted into the exhibition? Her heart beat so loudly she could hear the rush of blood in her ears.

“Professor, sir, I...” Her voice caught. “I don’t know what to say.”

He gave a warm smile. “I hope you’ll say yes.”

“Yes.” The word came out breathily as she fought back a wave of grateful tears. “I... I’ve wished for this for years. I...” Her chest expanded as if a thermochemical reaction had filled it with hydrogen. “Thank you.” She felt a strong urge to embrace the man. But, of course, that wouldn’t do at all.

His smile grew. “You are very welcome. And very deserving of the honor.” He glanced at the partly finished apparatus in the corner. “Now, if you’ll permit my curiosity, what is this device here?”

Vivian showed how the soldered wheel she’d gotten from Mr. Barnaby would fit into a base, allowing it to be turned with a crank. She pointed at the small tubes at the center. “Carpet paddles will be attached here with long handles so they stick out past the wheel’s circumference.”

“A mechanized rug beater,” Professor Wallis said. “Very clever.”

“With seven paddles and an average of twelve revolutions per minute, a rug will be completely cleaned in a fraction of the time it takes to beat it by hand,” Vivian said. “And, of course, the rotating wheel can be used for other things, such as drying clothes faster or airing out bedding. One could even churn butter if jars of cream were fastened to the wheel’s crossbars.”

The professor nodded, brows raised, the edges of his mouth turned down thoughtfully. He studied the base she was constructing. “The shaft would attach here?”

“Yes, and I am considering whether to make the arm removable so it can be moved from one side to the other or whether to simply attach one to either side.”

“It would be less cumbersome with just one arm,” the professor said. “And less variables make for a lower need for repairs.”

Vivian nodded her agreement. “I believe you’re right.” She was glad for his advice. Mr. Barnaby had said much the same thing.

“And if I may be allowed another question,” Professor Wallis said.

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