And how she had shown them! Without one single straining effort, without the least thought of doing anything spectacular, she had gently and calmly taken up men's tools and had done men's work--not indifferently well--not in any makeshift manner--but "in all cases, even the most technical, her work has equalled that previously done exclusively by man.

In a number of instances, owing to her natural dexterity and colour sense, her work, indeed, has been superior." How Mary studied those papers! Never even at college had she applied herself more closely.

She memorized, compared, read, thought, held arguments with herself.

And finally, when she was able to pass any examination that might be set before her, she went down to the office one day and sent for Mr.
MacPherson, the master mechanic.
He came--grey haired, grim faced, a man who seemed to keep his mouth buttoned-and Mary asked him to shut the door behind him.

Whereat Mac buttoned his mouth more tightly than before, and looked grimmer, too, if that were possible.
"You don't look a day older," Mary told him with a smile.