“Afterwards I discovered this purse on the sidewalk,” continued the lawyer, displaying his own purse. “As you and your father had just passed, I conjectured that one or the other of you must have dropped it. I have, accordingly, called this morning to ascertain if I am correct in my supposition, and if so, to return the purse.”
“No,” said Helen, shaking her head. “It cannot be ours.”
“Then I must seek farther for the owner. I beg you will pardon me for this intrusion.”
Helen said, rather awkwardly, that it was of no consequence.
“May I inquire,” said Mr. Sharp, as if the idea suddenly struck him, “whether your father is not an inventor? I think I was told so by the very respectable lady down stairs.”
“Yes,” said Helen, more at her ease. “Papa has been busy a great while about his invention. It requires a great deal of time and patience.”
“Indeed! Would it be taking too great a liberty to inquire the nature of the proposed invention?”
“It is a flying machine,” said Helen. “Some people laugh at it,” she added, a little hurriedly. “It seems strange to them because they have never thought much about it.”
“Let them laugh,” said Mr. Sharp, with warmth. “Let them laugh, my dear young lady,” he repeated in a tone of profound sympathy. “It is the way of the world. There has never been any great discovery or invention, from the earliest ages to the present time, that has not encountered ridicule. Wait till success crowns your father’s exertions, and then you will see how all will be changed.”
“So papa thinks,” said Helen, quite grateful to the lawyer for his words of encouragement; “and it is that which makes him labor so patiently.”