“Really, I should like to see the end of the experiment.”
“And hear the end of the lecture directly after dinner,” said Uncle Richard. “Tom, run in and tell Mrs Fidler to put another chair to the table. Mr Maxted will stay. Now let’s have a walk down the garden till the dinner-bell rings.”
Chapter Thirty.
“Now to prove the success of the magical trick,” said the Vicar, as they all rose from the table, and walked across to the old mill. “Really, Brandon, honestly I never felt so much interest in chemistry before, and I feel quite disposed to take it up where one left off at college. But oh, dear, how little time one has!”
“True,” said Uncle Richard, “the days always seem too short to a busy man. Now, Tom, let’s look and see whether we have succeeded or failed.”
“Succeeded,” cried Tom excitedly, when the heavy fragment of the speculum was lifted out of the hot sunshine perfectly dry, and laid flat upon the bench. “Look, Mr Maxted, you can see that it is silvered all over.”
“Yes; a dull, dingy coating of silver,” said the Vicar, who had put on his glasses and was now leaning over the glass. “Wonderful indeed. And now, I suppose, you polish this metal face, and make it like a looking-glass?”
“Yes, with leather and rouge,” said Uncle Richard, as he too put on his glasses and examined the surface carefully. “But there is something wrong about it.”