"
Off she went, leaving Maggie alone with the great, tall, broad gentleman,
smiling at her from his frame in the door-way, but never speaking. She went
on dusting a wine-glass most assiduously.
"Well done, little girl," came out a fine strong voice at last. "Now I
think that will do. Come and show me the parlor where I may sit down, for
I've had a long walk, and am very tired."
Maggie took him into the parlor, which was always cool and fresh in the
hottest weather. It was scented by a great beau-pot filled with roses; and,
besides, the casement was open to the fragrant court. Mr. Buxton was so
large, and the parlor so small, that when he was once in, Maggie thought
when he went away, he could carry the room on his back, as a snail does its
house.
"And so, you are a notable little woman, are you?" said he, after he had
stretched himself (a very unnecessary proceeding), and unbuttoned his
waistcoat, Maggie stood near the door, uncertain whether to go or to stay.
"How bright and clean you were making that glass! Do you think you could
get me some water to fill it? Mind, it must be that very glass I saw you
polishing. I shall know it again."
Maggie was thankful to escape out of the room; and in the passage she met
her mother, who had made time to change her gown as well as her cap. Before
Nancy would allow the little girl to return with the glass of water she
smoothed her short-cut glossy hair; it was all that was needed to make her
look delicately neat.
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