Dear me! Papa said you would call,' continued he, after recovering a little from Catherine's embrace; while she stood by looking very contrite.

'Will you shut the door, if you please?
you left it open; and those--those _detestable_ creatures won't bring coals to the fire.
It's so cold!' I stirred up the cinders, and fetched a scuttleful myself.

The invalid complained of being covered with ashes; but he had a tiresome cough, and looked feverish and ill, so I did not rebuke his temper.
'Well, Linton,' murmured Catherine, when his corrugated brow relaxed, 'are you glad to see me?
Can I do you any good ?' 'Why didn't you come before ?' he asked.

'You should have come, instead of writing.

It tired me dreadfully writing those long letters.