The great engineer came up, nodded to his son and me, shook hands with Hallett, and then we all went to the room where the machine had been set up, glistening, bright, and new, with the shaft and bands of the regular engine gear passing through above it.
The first thing noticed was that the window was open; and annoyed that the mist of a damp morning should be admitted, I hurriedly closed it, thinking then no more of the matter.
It wanted quite an hour to the time appointed, and the interval was employed in superintending the alteration of a few bolts and nuts, which Mr Girtley wanted tightened, and as I watched the great engineer, a man whose name was now an authority throughout Europe, and who was constantly refusing contracts, pull off his coat, take a spanner, and help his men, I began to realise that it was his personal attention to small matters and his watchful supervision that had raised him to his present position.
“Nice hands!” he said, laughing, as he held them out all over blacklead and oil. “Wise lad, you were, Tom, to leave it, and take to your parchment and pounce.”
There was a covert sneer in his words, which Tom seemed to take, for he said quickly:
“Perhaps, father, I may help you as much with my brain as I used to help you with my hands.”
“Yes, yes, of course, my boy, and we must have lawyers. Well, Grace, how do you feel about it now?”
“I think I’d ease that nut a little, sir,” I said, pointing to one part of the machine.
“Why?” he said sharply.
“I fancy that there will be so much stress upon that wheel that it will be better to give it as much freedom as we can, and, perhaps I am wrong, sir, but it strikes me—” I glanced at Hallett, and felt the blood flush to my face, for I felt that what I was about to say must sound very cruel to him.