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Question 96·Hard·Central Ideas and Details

The following text is from an 1878 letter by Eleanor Whitcombe to her friend Marianne.

My brother Nathaniel emerges each morning from his workshop with soot around his eyes and a smile that fairly glows through the grime. He insists that the engine he is perfecting—an apparatus so compact it could fit beneath a carriage seat—will liberate travelers from the tyranny of timetables, for they will need neither horse nor scheduled train. I listen, marveling at the steady fervor in his voice, yet I cannot altogether silence another voice, less hopeful, whispering that the world holds tight to the familiar with both hands. Manufacturers court investors only for machines of proven profit; gentlemen still measure status by the number of hooves in their stables. Nathaniel hears these objections and laughs, saying that resistance precedes every transformation worth the name. Perhaps he is right; perhaps, decades hence, children will learn his name in their schoolbooks. For the moment, however, I suspect the soot will cling to him longer than any laurel.

Which choice best describes Eleanor’s assessment of Nathaniel’s invention?