Beloved of Science

[animerider223]

Emma's next chore was taking inventory. She wondered why nobody was cleaning the place up, there seemed plenty of time to do it. Maybe Mr. DeTamble just didn't care about the state of his estate. She wrote down the list of things which needed to be replaced in her clean, neat cursive. She was going to clean her room up, it would probably take alot of time, the way the walls looked. She went back to the kitchen, finding Ms. Weatherbee knitting by the large fireplace. She handed the list to her.

"Thank you dear." Ms. Weatherbee set her work down, looking over the list. "Very good. I guess that is it for today." She smiled at Emma.

"Is it all right then if I take a pail of water to my room?" Emma inquired.

"Whatever for? Of course you can." Ms. Weatherbee consented. Emma took a pail, cold water collected from the rain, taking it to her room, careful not to spill. She set it on the floor, first pulling out all the dresser drawers before thoroughly washing the dust from them. When it was satisfactorially clean, the whole dresser, she put her belongings in it. She then turned her focus to the windows, noticing that a candle would be nice.

[PepsiNarcolepsy]

Burton entered his room and changed into the fresh pair one of the staff had already set out for him. He reclined on his bed and took his notebook from his pocket. After shaking it out a bit in an effort to dry it, he opened to his newest notes and reread them, making some new scribblings here and there. He tried to do some calculations, but ended up getting stuck. He realized that he needed a way to measure the voltage of each lightning strike in order to funnel its power in an exact way. And he still needed to figure out how to control it. There were still many unknowns, but these upcoming experiments should help to reconcile those missing pieces. He had been working at this for months now, and he was so close to actually getting somewhere.

He sighed and tossed his notes aside. Lying back on the covers, he grabbed the pillow next to him and hugged it to his chest. So much work. And it was all so risky. This kind of thing had never been done before, and there was no guarantee that it could work. This was simply an experiment, and yet so much was depending on it. This was his last and only chance. There was no other alternative.

Burton reached and picked up a picture frame that stood on his nightstand. It was a daguerreotype he had commissioned several years ago. The subject was a young woman. Her hair was styled in tight ringlets which were pulled back and pinned. Even though her hair was light, her pencil-thin eyebrows were very dark, almost black. Her heart-shaped face was soft and pale and her lips were full and mischievous. He stared at the picture for a long time, a familiar twinge of panic lurking at the edge of his consciousness. What if it didn't work?

No, hope is what you need right now, he told himself. If you start fretting it will only impede progress.

He lay the photograph on his chest and sighed again. He decided he would probably stay in bed until dinner.

[animerider223]

Emma was called to help with dinner. She was given the mundane job of peeling potatoes. She was slow and clumsy, cutting a finger. "Ah." She exclaimed, jumping back and dropping the knife with a clatter.

"Oh dear." exclaimed Mary, the other girl who was washing and cutting carrots.

"Here, put it under water." Ms. Weatherbee grabbed her hand and placed it in the water. She pulled out a ribbon from a pocket in her apron, its material was thick, and drying Emma's finger off, wrapped it up. "There." Ms. Weatherbee said. "Now be more careful!" she admonished. Emma thanked her and returned to her job, working even slower trying to be more careful. She set the table, one place at the end of the table, just like lunch. She sneezed several times, avoiding the dishes and food. She was beginning to feel a bit chilly, maybe the house was just cooling down from the stormy weather outside.

[PepsiNarcolepsy]

"You know," Ms. Weatherbee said to Emma as she washed some dishes, "You have probably come at an ideal time for getting to know the Master. He used to be so very unsociable. Did he talk to you outside? See, a couple years ago he wouldn't have even said a word- Wouldn't have been outside, more likely. You probably wouldn't have met him for several days." She seemed very excited about this, and wanted to make sure Emma knew what a breakthrough this was.

[animerider223]

"Oh, yes. He did say a few things." Emma answered, missing the point. He didn't seem unsocial at alll, maybe awkward at times. She sneezed. Maybe she had caught a cold while out in the rain. She took the pot containing the soup that was for dinner out and placed it on the table. Or maybe she had exposed herself to some mold while scrubbing the walls in her room.

"Emma, can you go up and tell the Master that dinner is ready, and ask if he wants it there or here." Ms. Weatherbee told Emma. Emma nodded, straightening the fork. She left the dinning room, to the front entry and up the flight of elegant stairs. She noted how the stairs creaked ever so slightly, the carpet pressing down and creating foot prints of where she stood, dissappearing a few seconds after her foot left. She felt as if she were in a story book, a castle of some forgotten country. She went straight to Mr. DeTamble's room. She knocked softly, waiting for a reply from within.

[PepsiNarcolepsy]

"Anne?" came a quiet response.

[animerider223]

Emma was confused. "Y-Your'e dinner is ready, do you want it in the dinning room or here?" she asked, stammerring over her words, a thing not common to her.

[PepsiNarcolepsy]

Burton opened his eyes and roused himself a little more. "Mm- what? Who's there?" he called.

[animerider223]

"It's me, Emma. Would you like your dinner down in the dinning room or here?" she repeated herself.

[PepsiNarcolepsy]

"Oh, Emma." He recognized the voice now. "Um...I'll be down...Momentarily." He rubbed his face in his pillow and groaned.

[animerider223]

"Are you unwell?" She asked, concerned for a second.

[PepsiNarcolepsy]

Burton sat up. "Oh...No. I was just resting.I'm fine," he replied. "Thank you." He waved in a distracted gesture of dismissal, and massaged his temples.

[animerider223]

Emma hesitated, then left, going back to the kitchen. "He will be coming down soon." she told Ms. Weatherbee. She sat on the chair by the fireplace, watching the fire as it danced and crackled. She wondered who this Anne was... or maybe she had misheard through the door. A clamor recalled her back to the present. Mary had dropped a bowl of greens, sending shards of pottery here and there, green vegetables scattered about.

[PepsiNarcolepsy]

Burton stood, then sat back down and rummaged through the blankets for the picture frame. When he found it, he brushed the glass with his thumb, and after gazing at it a moment, he set it back on his nightstand.

He didn't bother to straighten his clothes or comb his hair. Brain still foggy, he plodded down the stairs. His stomach was rumbling, and the only thing on his mind at the moment was eating. After dinner he would maybe do some reading, and then go back to sleep.

[animerider223]

"Oh no!" Mary exclaimed.

"That's quite all right. Emma go fetch the broom." Ms. Weatherbee took over. Emma got up, finding the broom by the door. She brought it back to the mess, which Mary had started picking up. Emma swept it into a neat pile, Mary brought the dust pan and together they threw it out. Ms. Weatherbee scrambled to find something to substitute the lost salad with.