Page 27 of Inventing Vivian

“Certainly, sir.” She motioned toward one of the stools. “Would you care for a seat?”

He sat, holding on to the edge of the worktable and balancing much less gracefully than Chester did when he sat there. “I noticed a thick hose with a garden pinwheel at one end attached to the fireplace in your drawing room. Is that another creation of yours?”

“An air router.” Vivian opened a drawer and drew out the folder labeledP.W.A. She opened it, spreading out the pages over the worktable, displaying the Podiatric Warming Apparatus. “You see, the pinwheel is attached here.” She pointed to the top corner of the fireplace. “The heat causes it to rotate, drawing warm air into the hose, and it can be directed anywhere it is needed. I treated the hose’s canvas with paraffin wax to prevent leakage.” She sat on a stool by him as he looked at the drawing. “My father’s feet are always cold,” Vivian continued, “but he doesn’t like to sit too near the fire for fear of overheating.”

“I imagine the Podiatric Warming Apparatus could just as easily be used beneath a bed on a chilly night,” Professor Wallis said.

“Yes.” Vivian nodded. “My aunt often takes it to her bedchamber in the winter.”

The professor nodded, a hint of a smile pulling at his lips. “Adjustable warm air exactly where you want it without fear of fire. I should commission one for my wife. The woman wears three sets of socks and uses hot bricks in the bed on cold nights.”

Vivian smiled. “I will happily make you one, sir. It’s the least I could do.”

“I would appreciate it very much.” He winked. “As would Mrs. Wallis’s chilly toes.”

He closed the folder, and his gaze landed on a small object on the table.

“And what, pray tell, is this?” His eyes held amusement.

Vivian was pleased that he was enjoying himself. She’d never had such a captive audience when it came to her projects—aside from Chester, of course. “A stamp licker,” she said. “A silly thing I mean to give to my aunt. She writes endless letters.”

The stamp licker was a three-inch peg on a holder over a shallow dish of water. One end of the peg was tapered so it could be spun in place with a twist of the fingers.

“Simple and elegant,” the professor said. “When the reservoir is filled with water, you twist the pin and then draw your stamp over it to wet the glue.”

“Yes,” Vivian said. “But I’m still trying to find the right material to cover the pin.”

“What have you tried?” he asked, turning the pin and peering at it so closely that if his nose were a stamp, it would be ready to attach to a letter.

“Only cotton and a piece of brocade,” Vivian said. “But neither was just right. The brocade did not absorb enough water, and the cotton stuck to the stamp’s glue.”

“Perhaps you might try felt,” he said. “It is thicker, like the brocade, and absorbent. But it holds its shape better than cotton.”

“Felt,” Vivian said. “Thank you, Professor. I will try it.”

He sat back, as much as a person with a round tummy could do on a stool, and looked at her. “Miss Kirby, if you don’t mind my saying, why do you not enter one of these devices into the exhibition? The stamp licker or the rug beater or that extending lamp down in your drawing room? A device that stores hats or moves heated air would be well received also. Or any of these other ideas.” He motioned toward the drawings on her corkboard.

Vivian considered for a moment. “I want to be respected in the scientific community, Professor.” She watched her thumb tapping on the worktable. “It is difficult enough for a woman to be taken seriously, and if I were to enter with only household devices—I worry they would be beneath the notice of the judges and seen as typical of a woman to focus solely on the domestic sphere.” She looked at the bicycle. “To compete with the men, I need to produce something that interests them.”

“Something noisy and powerful and unmistakably masculine.” Professor Wallis sighed. “Yes, I see your point. It is not only your invention that will be judged but your gender as well.”

“I’m afraid so.”

“Your presence will be met with resistance, I’m afraid,” the professor said. “And, unfortunately, prejudice. You will be the first woman to enter the exhibition, and that is bound to stir up... controversial emotions.”

“I’m aware of that, sir.”

“But you will not be alone, miss. I fully intend to vouch for my sponsor. And His Lordship will be your defender as well, but I’m afraid, Miss Kirby, you shall simply have to work twice as hard. The greater one’s struggle, the sweeter his success. Orhersuccess, in this case.” He stood, putting his hands on his hips as he regarded her. “Arrive early, especially on opening day. Make certain your booth is clean with complete schematics and a sign of some sort to catch the eye. And you must ensure your Personal Propulsion Vehicle is running smoother than ever.”

“I will, Professor.”

Professor Wallis took Vivian’s hand, shaking it to seal the arrangement. “I believe that you will indeed.”

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