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Isabel a great deal, but she had always remained quiet, listening with a flat, unengaged smile, her expression as devoid of interest as a porcelain doll’s might have been … .
    After two hours of slow riding, he and Jane made their way back to the bicycle shop, before they would incur an additional rental fee.
    * * *
    When they returned home for a late tea, the landlady was waiting with a letter in her hand. “Mr. Wells, this note was delivered for you this afternoon. It looks to be important, but the messenger would tell me nothing of its contents.” She seemed to expect him to open the message in front of her and read it aloud.
    Wells stiffly thanked her, knowing the woman already hadher suspicions about him and Jane. “I’m exhausted from my bike ride. Jane, let’s rest for awhile and then look at this at our leisure.” They closed the door, leaving the frustrated landlady behind.
    Wells quickly looked at the note, fearing it might be from Isabel’s solicitor, or someone demanding payment of a long overdue bill.
    “What is it, H.G.?”
    “A mystery.” The amorphous glob of sealing wax reminded him of the single-celled amoebae he had studied under a microscope in biology class long ago. When he saw that it came from the Imperial Institute, he withdrew the letter and was astonished to learn the identity of its sender.
    “Professor Huxley! He was my teacher long ago, but I thought he’d retired. He certainly hasn’t been in public view for years. But why would he write me?”
    Jane did not hold back the obvious explanation. “If you were his student, H.G., he must be proud of you. Perhaps he’s read your articles.”
    “I can’t imagine that he would.” Wells went to the light by the window and read the note.
To Mr. H.G. Wells:
    Please forgive this intrusion, if such you find it, but I have a matter of utmost importance that I wish to present to you.
    After encountering some of your recent writings, I recalled with no small degree of pride how you excelled in the course I taught. Ten years ago I considered you to be a young man of ambition, vision, and intelligence, and your articles and essays have convinced me that my judgment remains sound.
    With this in mind, I offer you a proposition. As you must be aware, the Imperial Institute was formed last year to promote higher education. What you do not know is that the Institute also has a vital and secret purpose. I invite you here to visit me for a week to learn what that purpose is.
    I offer you my personal guarantee that it will be one of the most important things you ever do. I require the advice and input of the author of “Man of the Year Million.”
    “Your Professor Huxley is very mysterious,” Jane said. “But he did read your article.”
    “And I am naturally intrigued … exactly as Professor Huxley expected, no doubt.” He leaned close and gave her a kiss. “But how can I bear to be away from you for so long? You are my sounding board, the genesis and regulator of my ideas.”
    She gently pushed him away, then removed the pins from her hat and let her beautiful hair fall free. “I will miss you too, H.G. But we both know that you simply must go. Your imagination and intellect are up to the task, even without me.”

CHAPTER FOUR
IMPOSSIBLE DISCOVERIES AT THE IMPERIAL INSTITUTE
    W hen he arrived at the Imperial Institute, Wells stood at the ornate wrought-iron gates with a small suitcase in hand and imagined himself a young student again, eager to learn but knowing so little. He lifted his gaze to the imposing brick structure that housed so many great educators under one immense roof, feeling that he couldn’t possibly belong in such an auspicious place. But he was no intruder here. He, Herbert George Wells, an invited guest of the great T.H. Huxley, was seizing an opportunity.
    Holding his chin up, he stepped through the gate and into the well-manicured grounds.
    Though he was eager to embark on something new, hewished the old professor