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 disagreeable.

'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 repellingly
than Heathcliff himself could have replied.

'Ah, your favourites are among these?' I continued, turning to an
obscure cushion full of something like cats.