'Then I can go, too, when I am a woman.

Has papa been, Ellen ?' 'Papa would tell you, Miss,' I answered, hastily, 'that they are not worth the trouble of visiting.

The moors, where you ramble with him, are much nicer; and Thrushcross Park is the finest place in the world.' 'But I know the park, and I don't know those,' she murmured to herself.
'And I should delight to look round me from the brow of that tallest point: my little pony Minny shall take me some time.' One of the maids mentioning the Fairy Cave, quite turned her head with a desire to fulfil this project: she teased Mr.Linton about it; and he promised she should have the journey when she got older.

But Miss Catherine measured her age by months, and, 'Now, am I old enough to go to Penistone Crags ?' was the constant question in her mouth.

The road thither wound close by Wuthering Heights.