Must the Maiden Die Read Online Free PDF Page A

afraid you might be."
Bronwen sobered and lowered her head in what was evidently
supposed to be contrition. The attempt was unsuccessful, because
the sobriety quickly dissolved in a grin. And although Glynis
struggled against it, she, too, had to smile.
    "Aunt Glynis, you must meet Professor
Lowe."
    Glynis looked past Bronwen to see both her
aerial comrade and Cullen securing the balloon. And for the second
time that day, she could scarcely believe her eyes. The dark-haired
man beside Cullen wore an elegant, satin-lapeled Prince Albert
coat, and had just donned a tall silk hat.
    "Does ballooning require formal dress?" she
asked, before recalling that Bronwen frequently took such comments
literally.
    "The professor was at a banquet when word came that
the high wind had died. He didn't have time to change, and I
couldn't even wire you, we had to take off so quickly!"
    "Take off from where?"
    "West of here," Bronwen said, with a vague
wave of her hand. Glynis began to ask the specific location of this
launch, but Bronwen interrupted with, "I'll tell you about it
later. Now come and meet him."
    Professor Lowe stood a shade taller than
Cullen's six feet, and even had he not been in evening clothes
would have cut a dashing figure, Glynis thought as she and Bronwen
approached him. His sturdy frame surprised her; she would have
guessed, after reading the Harper's articles, that an
aeronaut needed to be slighter, and to weigh considerably less than
this man must. A trim mustache was as thick and black as his hair,
the dark blue eyes deeply set under heavy brows. When introduced,
Thaddeus Lowe raised his hat and bent slightly over her extended
hand. "I hope we didn't worry you too greatly, Miss Tryon. Trees
can be troublesome, I grant you, but the balloon is really quite
safe."
    Glynis might have argued the point. He had
not been riveted to the ground, watching in abject terror, but she
refrained, mostly because a quick grin from Cullen told her that
she would be wasting her breath.
    "My niece tells me you came from west of
here," she said instead to Lowe. "I remember reading that you
believe the upper wind currents all flow from west to east, no
matter what the weather conditions on the ground. Is that
correct?"
    "Absolutely." He seemed delighted that she
knew something about this, and in his enthusiasm he fairly glowed.
"That's been my hypothesis, and now I feel confident that it's
more than just conjecture. It's a fact! I've made enough of these
flights to satisfy myself, and to prove it to those in science who
have scoffed. That's not to say, however, that a balloon is not
influenced by ground winds—" he smiled at Bronwen "—as your niece
can tell you."
    Bronwen shot him a peculiar look, Glynis
noticed, very much as if she were warning the man of something.
Then, possibly aware of her aunt's scrutiny, Bronwen laughed and
said, "We were nearly blown off course."
    Lowe nodded. "The lower winds from Lake Erie
pushed us to the southeast."
    "People would like a closer look," said
Cullen, who had been watching an excited crowd that by now must be
made up of half the town, and that his deputies were holding back
only by determined effort.
    "They can't do the balloon much harm," Lowe
told him. "Not if they can be kept from walking on it."
    Bronwen turned to scan the crowd, then said
to Professor Lowe, "My cousin is over there and I'd like to see
her. Then we'll find you a place to stay." She turned and walked
toward Emma, whom Glynis had just spotted at the far edge of the
crush of townspeople.
    At a gesture from Cullen, his deputies came
forward with the crowd close on their heels. The men positioned
themselves to protect the silk fabric, while the increasingly loud
babble of voices drove Glynis to follow Bronwen across the
grass.
    Emma stood there as if she had just stepped
from a page of Godey's Lady's Book, in a flounced,
hoop-skirted dress of rose-colored cambric. Her long, dark brown
hair was caught back with pink grosgrain ribbon,