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WUTHERING HEIGHTS.
33
At first, the young man appeared about to befriend me.
"I'll go with him as far as the park," he said.
"You'll go with him to hell!" exclaimed his master, or whatever relation he bore. "And who is to look after the horses, eh?"
"A man's life is of more consequence than one evening's neglect of the horses; somebody must go," murmured Mrs. Heathcliff, more kindly than I expected.
"Not at your command!" retorted Hareton.
"If you set store on him, you'd better be quiet."
"Then I hope his ghost will haunt you; and I hope Mr. Heathcliff will never get another tenant, till the Grange is a ruin!" she answered sharply.
"Hearken, hearken, shoo's cursing on em!" muttered Joseph, towards whom I had been steering.
C5
