Wuthering Heights

and ran to the door, knocking vehemently for admittance.  A woman
whom I knew, and who formerly lived at Gimmerton, answered:  she
had been servant there since the death of Mr. Earnshaw.

'Ah,' said she, 'you are come a-seeking your little mistress!
Don't be frightened.  She's here safe:  but I'm glad it isn't the
master.'

'He is not at home then, is he?' I panted, quite breathless with
quick walking and alarm.

'No, no,' she replied:  'both he and Joseph are off, and I think
they won't return this hour or more.  Step in and rest you a bit.'

I entered, and beheld my stray lamb seated on the hearth, rocking
herself in a little chair that had been her mother's when a child.
Her hat was hung against the wall, and she seemed perfectly at
home, laughing and chattering, in the best spirits imaginable, to
Hareton - now a great, strong lad of eighteen - who stared at her
with considerable curiosity and astonishment:  comprehending
precious little of the fluent succession of remarks and questions
which her tongue never ceased pouring forth.

'Very well, Miss!' I exclaimed, concealing my joy under an angry
countenance.  'This is your last ride, till papa comes back.  I'll
not trust you over the threshold again, you naughty, naughty girl!'

'Aha, Ellen!' she cried, gaily, jumping up and running to my side.
'I shall have a pretty story to tell to-night; and so you've found
me out.  Have you ever been here in your life before?'

'Put that hat on, and home at once,' said I.  'I'm dreadfully
grieved at you, Miss Cathy:  you've done extremely wrong!  It's no
use pouting and crying:  that won't repay the trouble I've had,
scouring the country after you.  To think how Mr. Linton charged me
to keep you in; and you stealing off so!  It shows you are a
cunning little fox, and nobody will put faith in you any more.'

'What have I done?' sobbed she, instantly checked.  'Papa charged
me nothing:  he'll not scold me, Ellen - he's never cross, like
you!'

'Come, come!' I repeated.  'I'll tie the riband.  Now, let us have
no petulance.  Oh, for shame!  You thirteen years old, and such a
baby!'

This exclamation was caused by her pushing the hat from her head,
and retreating to the chimney out of my reach.

'Nay,' said the servant, 'don't be hard on the bonny lass, Mrs.
Dean.  We made her stop:  she'd fain have ridden forwards, afeard
you should be uneasy.  Hareton offered to go with her, and I
thought he should:  it's a wild road over the hills.'

Hareton, during the discussion, stood with his hands in his
pockets, too awkward to speak; though he looked as if he did not
relish my intrusion.

'How long am I to wait?' I continued, disregarding the woman's
interference.  'It will be dark in ten minutes.  Where is the pony,
Miss Cathy?  And where is Phoenix?  I shall leave you, unless you
be quick; so please yourself.'

'The pony is in the yard,' she replied, 'and Phoenix is shut in
there.  He's bitten - and so is Charlie.  I was going to tell you
all about it; but you are in a bad temper, and don't deserve to
hear.'

I picked up her hat, and approached to reinstate it; but perceiving
that the people of the house took her part, she commenced capering
round the room; and on my giving chase, ran like a mouse over and
under and behind the furniture, rendering it ridiculous for me to
pursue.  Hareton and the woman laughed, and she joined them, and
waxed more impertinent still; till I cried, in great irritation, -
'Well, Miss Cathy, if you were aware whose house this is you'd be
glad enough to get out.'

'It's YOUR father's, isn't it?' said she, turning to Hareton.

'Nay,' he replied, looking down, and blushing bashfully.

He could not stand a steady gaze from her eyes, though they were
just his own.

'Whose then - your master's?' she asked.

He coloured deeper, with a different feeling, muttered an oath, and
turned away.

'Who is his master?' continued the tiresome girl, appealing to me.
'He talked about "our house," and "our folk."  I thought he had
been the owner's son.  And he never said Miss:  he should have
done, shouldn't he, if he's a servant?'

Hareton grew black as a thunder-cloud at this childish speech.  I
silently shook my questioner, and at last succeeded in equipping
her for departure.

'Now, get my horse,' she said, addressing her unknown kinsman as
she would one of the stable-boys at the Grange.  'And you may come