the once scornful breasts of her father and
mother.

Mrs. Grosvenor was no longer "on her
high ropes," as Pem had said in her father's
laboratory; to-day she seemed to be,
rather, on a snubbing-line which brought
her up short now and again, even in the
middle of a speech, when she looked at
the inventor's blue-eyed daughter, his
trusty little pal--and that, sometimes,
with spray in her eyes, too.

Also, her glances in the direction of
the inventor himself, Professor Lorry, with
whose name the world was already beginning
to ring, were appealing--not to
say apologetic.

She was quite sure now that any man
who could turn out a daughter, not yet
sixteen, to behave in a fearful emergency
as Pem had done--without whom her
own daughter would not be here to-day,
as Una constantly kept repeating--could
never forge a gun, be it rocket or rifle,
that would hit no mark!

[[42]]

p041 _ -chap- _ toc-1 _ p042w _ toc-2 _ +chap+ _ p043

v?