Catherine reflected an instant, with knitted brows--she found it needful to smooth the way for an intrusion.

'Isabella and Edgar Linton talked of calling this afternoon,' she said, at the conclusion of a minute's silence.

'As it rains, I hardly expect them; but they may come, and if they do, you run the risk of being scolded for no good.' 'Order Ellen to say you are engaged, Cathy,' he persisted; 'don't turn me out for those pitiful, silly friends of yours! I'm on the point, sometimes, of complaining that they--but I'll not--' 'That they what ?' cried Catherine, gazing at him with a troubled countenance.

'Oh, Nelly!' she added petulantly, jerking her head away from my hands, 'you've combed my hair quite out of curl! That's enough; let me alone.

What are you on the point of complaining about, Heathcliff ?' 'Nothing--only look at the almanack on that wall;' he pointed to a framed sheet hanging near the window, and continued, 'The crosses are for the evenings you have spent with the Lintons, the dots for those spent with me.