Maggie thought a moment.

“Would shot do?” asked she.

“It would be the very thing; but where can I get any?”

“There is some that was left of papa’s.  It is in the right-hand corner of the second drawer of the bureau, wrapped up in a newspaper.”

“What a plague!  I can’t remember your ‘seconds,’ and ‘right-hands,’ and fiddle-faddles.”  He worked on at his pebbles.  They would hot do.

“I think if you were good-natured, Maggie, you might go for me.”

“Oh, Ned!  I’ve all this long seam to do.  Mamma said I must finish it before tea; and that I might play a little if I had done if first,” said Maggie, rather plaintively; for it was a real pain to her to refuse a request.

“It would not take you five minutes.”

Maggie thought a little.  The time would only be taken out of her playing, which, after all, did not signify; while Edward was really busy about his ship.  She rose, and clambered up the steep grassy slope, slippery with the heat.

Before she had found the paper of shot, she heard her mother’s voice calling, in a sort of hushed hurried loudness, as if anxious to be heard by one person yet not by another—­“Edward, Edward, come home quickly.  Here’s Mr. Buxton coming along the Fell-Lane;—­he’s coming here, as sure as sixpence; come, Edward, come.”

Maggie saw Edward put down his ship and come.  At his mother’s bidding it certainly was; but he strove to make this as little apparent as he could, by sauntering up the slope, with his hands in his pockets, in a very independent and neglige style.  Maggie had no time to watch longer; for now she was called too, and down stairs she ran.

“Here, Maggie,” said her mother, in a nervous hurry;—­“help Nancy to get a tray ready all in a minute.  I do believe here’s Mr. Buxton coming to call.  Oh, Edward! go and brush your hair, and put on your Sunday jacket; here’s Mr. Buxton just coming round.  I’ll only run up and change my cap; and you say you’ll come up and tell me, Nancy; all proper, you know.”

“To be sure, ma’am.  I’ve lived in families afore now,” said Nancy, gruffly.

“Oh, yes, I know you have.  Be sure you bring in the cowslip wine.  I wish I could have stayed to decant some port.”

Nancy and Maggie bustled about, in and out of the kitchen and dairy; and were so deep in their preparations for Mr. Buxton’s reception that they were not aware of the very presence of that gentleman himself on the scene.  He had found the front door open, as is the wont in country places, and had walked in; first stopping at the empty parlor, and then finding his way to the place where voices and sounds proclaimed that there were inhabitants.  So he stood there, stooping a little under the low-browed lintels of the kitchen door, and looking large, and red, and warm, but with a pleased and almost amused expression of face.

“Lord bless me, sir! what a start you gave me!” said Nancy, as she suddenly caught sight of him.  “I’ll go and tell my missus in a minute that you’re come.”