“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