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.