"Come, come!" I repeated. "I'll tie the riband. Now, let us have no petulance. Oh, for shame! You thirteen years old, and such a baby!"
This exclamation was caused by her pushing the hat from her head, and retreating to the chimney out of my reach.
"Nay," said the servant, "don't be hard on the bonny lass, Mrs. Dean. We made her stop: she'd fain have ridden forwards, afeard you should be uneasy. Hareton offered to go with her, and I thought he should: it's a wild road over the hills."

'Come, come!' I repeated. 'Let us have no petulance. Oh, for shame! You thirteen years old, and such a baby!'
'Nay,' said the servant, 'don't be hard on the bonny lass, Mrs. Dean. We made her stop though she wanted to ride on. Hareton offered to go with her, and I thought he should: it's a wild road over the hills.'
