"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 _négligé_ 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."