Mrs. Heathcliff

"Were you asked to tea?"
"I shall be glad to have a cup," I answered.
"Were you asked?" she repeated.
"No," I said, half smiling.
"You are the proper person to ask me."

I wish I were like Mrs. Heathcliff. Frank. Bold. Extremely sarcastic.

"Mrs. Heathcliff," I said earnestly, "you must excuse me for troubling you. I presume, because, with that face, I’m sure you cannot help being good-hearted. Do point out some landmarks by which I may know my way home: I have no more idea how to get there than you would have how to get to London!"

"Take the road you came," she answered, ensconcing herself in a chair, with a candle, and the long book open before her. "It is brief advice, but as sound as I can give."

I burst out laughing last night. I think I like Wuthering Heights.