gar-faced Joseph projected his head from a round window of the barn.
"Whet are ye for?" he shouted. "T' maister's dahn i' t'fowld. Goa rahnd by th' end ut' laith, if yah went tuh spake tull him.'"
"Is there nobody inside to open the door?" I hallooed, responsively.
"They's nobbut t' missis, and shoo'll nut oppen't an ye mak yer flaysome dins till neeght."
"Why, can not you tell her who I am, eh, Joseph?"
"Nor-ne me! Aw'll hae noa bend wi't," muttered the head, vanishing.
The snow began to drive thickly. I seized the handle to essay another trial, when a young man, without coat, and shouldering a pitchfork, appeared in the yard behind. He hailed me to follow him, and, after marching through a wash-house, and a paved area containing a coal-shed, pump, and pigeon-cote, we at length arrived in the large, warm, cheerful apartment, where I was formerly received.
It glowed delightfully in the radiance of an immense fire, compounded of coal, peat, and wood; and near the table, laid for a plentiful evening meal, I was pleased to observe the "missis," an individual whose existence I had never previously suspected.
I bowed and waited, thinking she would bid me take a seat. She looked at me, leaning back in her chair, and remained motionless and mute.
"Rough weather!" I remarked. "I'm afraid, Mrs. Heathcliff, the door must bear the consequence of your servants' leisure attendance; I had hard work to make them hear me."
She never opened her mouth. I stared—she stared also. At any rate, she kept her eyes on me in a cool, regardless manner, exceedingly embarrassing and disagrreeable.
"Sit down," said the young man, gruffly. "He'll be in soon."
I obeyed, and hemmed, and called the villain Juno, who deigned, at this second interview, to move the extreme tip of her tail, in token of owning my acquaintance.
"A beautiful animal!" I commenced again. "Do you intend parting with the little ones, madam?"
"They are not mine," said the amiable hostess, more repellingy than Heathcliff himself could have replied.
