 6 Mr. Hindley came home to the funeral, and a thing that amazed us and set the neighbour's gossiping right and left, he brought a wife with him. What she was, and where she was born, he never informed us. Probably she had neither money nor name to recommend her, or he would scarcely have kept the union from his father. She was not one that would have disturbed the house much on her own account. Every object she saw, the moment she crossed the threshold, appeared to delight her, and every circumstance that took place about her, except the preparing for the burial and the presence of the mourners. I thought she was half-silly from her behaviour while that went on. She ran into her chamber and made me come with her, though I should have been dressing the children. And there she sat shivering and clasping her hands and asking repeatedly, Are they gone yet? Then she began describing with hysterical emotion the effect it produced on her to see black, and started and trembled, and at last fell a weeping. And when I asked what was the matter, answered, She didn't know, but she felt so afraid of dying. I imagined her as little likely to die as myself. She was rather thin, but young and fresh complexioned, and her eyes sparkled as bright as diamonds. I did remark to be sure that mounting the stairs made her breathe very quick, that the least sudden noise set her all in a quiver, and that she coughed troublesomely sometimes, but I knew nothing of what these symptoms poor tended, and had no impulse to sympathise with her. We don't in general take to foreigners here, Mr Lockwood, unless they take to us first. Young Earnshaw was altered considerably in the three years of his absence. He had grown spare and lost his colour, and spoke and dressed quite differently. And on the very day of his return he told Joseph and me we must thenthforth quarter ourselves in the back kitchen, and leave the house for him. Indeed he would have carpeted and papered a small spare room for a parlour, but his wife expressed such pleasure at the white floor and huge glowing fireplace, at the pewter dishes and delf-case and dog kennel, and the wide space there was to move about in where they usually sat, that he thought it unnecessary to her comfort, and so dropped the intention. She expressed pleasure to at finding a sister among her new acquaintance, and she prattled to Catherine and kissed her, and ran about with her and gave her quantities of presents at the beginning. Her affection tired very soon, however, and when she grew peevish hindly became tyrannical. A few words from her, evincing a dislike to Heathcliff, for enough to rouse in him all his old hatred of the boy. He drove him from their company to the servants, deprived him of the instructions of the curate, and insisted that he should labour out of doors instead, compelling him to do so as hard as any other lad on the farm. Heathcliff bore his degradation pretty well at first, because Cathy taught him what she learned, and worked or played with him in the fields. They both promised fair to grow up as rude as savages, the young master being entirely negligent how they behaved and what they did, so they kept clear of him. He would not even have seen after their going to church on Sundays, only Joseph and the curate reprimanded his carelessness when they absented themselves, and that reminded him to order Heathcliff a flogging and Catherine a fast from dinner or supper. But it was one of their chief amusements to run away to the moors in the morning and remain there all day, and the after-punishment grew a mere thing to laugh at. The curate might set as many chapters as he pleased for Catherine to get by heart, and Joseph might thrash Heathcliff till his arm ached. They forgot everything the minute they were together again—at least the minute they had contrived some naughty plan of revenge. And many a time I've cried to myself to watch them growing more reckless daily, and I not daring to speak a syllable for fear of losing the small power I still retained over the unfriended creatures. One Sunday evening it chanced that they were banished from the sitting-room for making a noise, or a light offence of the kind, and when I went to call them to supper I could discover them nowhere. We searched the house above and below, and the yard and stables, they were invisible, and at last Hindley and a passion told us to bolt the doors, and swore nobody should let them in that night. The household went to bed, and I, too anxious to lie down, opened my lattice and put my head out to hearken, though it rained, determined to admit them in spite of the prohibition should they return. In a while I distinguished steps coming up the road, and the light of a lantern glimmered through the gate. I threw a shawl over my head, and ran to prevent them from waking Mr. Earnshaw by knocking. There was Heathcliff by himself. It gave me a start to see him alone. "'Where is Miss Catherine?' I cried hurriedly. No accident, I hope." "'A thrush cross-grange,' he answered, and I would have been there, too, but they had not the manners to ask me to stay.' "'Well, you will catch it,' I said. You will never be content till you are sent about your business. What in the world led you wandering to thrush cross-grange?' "'Let me get off my wet clothes, and I'll tell you all about it, Nellie,' he replied. I bit him beware of browsing the master, and while he undressed, and I waited to put out the candle, he continued, "'Cathie and I escaped from the wash-house to have a ramble at Liberty. And getting a glimpse of the grange-lights, we thought we would just go and see whether the Lintons passed their Sunday evenings, standing shivering in corners, while their father and mother sat eating and drinking and singing and laughing, and burning their eyes out before the fire. Do you think they do? Or reading sermons, and being catechised by their man-servant, and set to learn a column of scripture names if they don't answer properly?' "'Probably not,' I responded. They are good children, no doubt, and don't deserve the treatment you receive for your bad conduct.' "'Don't can't, Nellie,' he said. Nonsense! We ran from the top of the heights to the park without stopping, Catherine completely beaten in the race because she was barefoot. You'll have to seek for her shoes in the bog tomorrow. We crept through a broken hedge, groped our way up the path, and planted ourselves on a flower-plot under the drawing-room window. The light came from thence, they had not put up the shutters, and the curtains were only half-closed. Both of us were able to look in by standing on the basement and clinging to the ledge, and we saw, ah, it was beautiful! A splendid place carpeted with crimson, and crimson-covered chairs and tables, and a pure white ceiling bordered by gold. A shower of glass drops hanging in silver chains from the centre and shimmering with little soft tapers. Old Mr. and Mrs. Linton were not there. Edgar and his sisters had it entirely to themselves. Shouldn't they have been happy? We should have thought ourselves in heaven. And now, guess what your good children were doing? Isabella, I believe she is 11, a year younger than Cathy, lay screaming at the father-end of the room, shrieking as if witches were running red-ot needles into her. Edgar stood on the hearth, weeping silently, and in the middle of the table sat a little dog, shaking its paw and yelping, which from their mutual accusations we understood they had nearly pulled in two between them. The idiots! That was their pleasure. To quarrel, who should hold a heap of warm hair, and each begin to cry because both, after struggling to get it, refuse to take it. We laughed out right at the petted things we did despise them. When would you catch me wishing to have what Catherine wanted, or find us by ourselves, seeking entertainment in yelling and sobbing and rolling on the ground, divided by the whole room? I'd not exchange for a thousand lives, my condition here, for Edgar Linton's at Thrushcross Grange, not if I might have the privilege of flinging Joseph off the highest gable, and painting the house front with Indley's blood. Hush, hush! I interrupted. Still, you have not told me, Gryff, how Catherine is left behind. I told you we laughed, he answered. The Linton's urged us, and with one accord they shot like arrows to the door. There was silence, and then a cry, oh, mama, mama, oh, papa, oh, mama, come here, oh, papa, oh. They really did howl out something in that way. We made frightful noises to terrify them still more, and then we dropped off the ledge because somebody was drawing the bars, and we felt we had better flee. I had catted by the hand and was urging her on when all at once she fell down. Run, Heathcliff, run! she whispered. They have let the bulldog lose, and he holds me. The devil had seized her ankle, Nellie. I heard his abominable snorting. She did not yell out, nor she would have scorned to do it if she had been spitted on the horns of a mad cow. I did, though. I vassifrated curses enough to annihilate any fiend in Christendom, and I got a stone and thrust it between his jaws, and tried with all my might to cram it down his throat. A beast of a servant came up with a lantern at last, shouting, Keep fast, Sculker, keep fast. It changed his note, however, when he saw Sculker's game. The dog was throttled off, his huge purple tongue hanging half a foot out of his mouth, and his pendant lip streaming with bloody slather. The man took Kathy up. She was sick. Not from fear, I'm certain, but from pain. He carried her in, and I followed grumbling execrations and vengeance. What prey, Robert! Allude, Linton, from the entrance. Sculker has caught a little girl, sir, he replied. And there's a lad here, he added, making a clutch at me. Who looks an outer, an outer? Very like the robbers were for putting them through the window to open the doors to the gang after all were asleep, that they might murder us at their ease. Old your tongue, you foul-mouthed thief, you! You shall go to the gallows for this. Mr. Linton, sir, don't lay by your gun. No, no, Robert, said the old fool. The rascals knew that yesterday was my rent day. They thought to have me cleverly. Come in. I'll furnish them a reception. There, John, fasten the chain. Give Sculker some water, Jenny. To beard a magistrate in his stronghold, and on the Sabbath, too. Where will their insolence stop? Oh, my dear Mary, look here. Don't be afraid, it is but a boy. Yet the villain scowls so plainly in his face, would it not be a kindness to the country to hang him at once, before he shows his nature in acts as well as features? He pulled me under the chandelier, and Mrs. Linton placed her spectacles on her nose, and raised her hands in horror. The cowardly children crept nearer also, Isabella, lisping, Quiteful thing. Put him in the cellar, papa. He's exactly like the son of the fortune teller, that stole my tame pheasant. Isn't he, Edgar? While they examined me, Cathy came round. She heard the last speech and laughed. Edgar Linton, after an inquisitive stare, collected sufficient wick to recognise her. They see us at church, you know, though we seldom meet them elsewhere. That's Miss Urnshaw, he whispered to his mother. And look how Sculker has bitten her, how her foot bleeds. Miss Urnshaw, nonsense! cried the dame, Miss Urnshaw scouring the country with a gypsy. And yet, my dear, the child is in mourning. Surely it is, and she may be blamed for life. What culpable carelessness in her brother! exclaimed Mr. Linton, turning from me to Catherine. I've understood from Shielders. That was the cure it, sir. That he let her grow up in absolute heathenism. But who is this? Where did she pick up this companion? Oh, oh! I declare he is that strange acquisition my late neighbour made, in his journey to Liverpool. A little lascar, or an American or Spanish castaway. Oh, wicked boy at all events! remarked the old lady. And quite unfit for a decent house. Did you notice his language, Linton? I'm shocked that my children should have heard it. I recommenced cursing. Don't be angry, Nelly. And so Robert was ordered to take me off. I refused to go without Cathy. He dragged me into the garden, pushed the lantern into my hand, assured me that Mr. Earnshaw should be informed of my behaviour, and bidding me much directly secured the door again. The curtains were still looped up at one corner, and I resumed my station as spy. Because if Catherine had wished to return, I intended shattering their great glass panes to a million of fragments unless they let her out. She sat on the sofa quietly. Mrs. Linton took off the grey cloak of the dairy-med which we had borrowed for our excursion, shaking her head and expostulating with her, I suppose. She was a young lady, and they made a distinction between her treatment and mine. Then the woman's servant brought a base and a warm water, and washed her feet. And Mr. Linton mixed a tumbler of neegas, and Isabella emptied a plateful of cakes into her lap, and Edgar stood gaping at a distance. Afterward they dried and combed her beautiful hair, and gave her a pair of enormous slippers and wheeled her to the fire, and I left her as merry as she could be, dividing her food between the little dog and skulker, whose nose she pinched as he ate, and kindling a spark of spirit in the vacant blue eyes of the Linton's, a dim reflection from her own enchanting face. I saw they were full of stupid admiration. She is so immeasurably superior to them. To everybody on earth is she not, Nelly. There will more come of this business than you reckon on, I answered, covering him up and extinguishing the light. You are incurable, Eastcliff, and Mr. Indley will have to proceed to extremities, see if he won't. My words came truer than I desired. The luckless adventure made Earnshaw furious, and then Mr. Linton, to mend matters, paid us a visit himself on the morrow, and read the young master such a lecture on the road he guided his family, that he was stirred to look about him in earnest. Eastcliff received no flogging, but he was told that the first word he spoke to Miss Catherine should ensure a dismissal, and Mrs. Earnshaw undertook to keep her sister-in-law in due restraint when she returned home, employing art not force. With force she would have found it impossible. Chapter 7 Cathy stayed at Trushcross Grange five weeks till Christmas. By that time her ankle was surly cured, and her manners much improved. The mistress visited her often in the interval, and commenced her plan of reform, by trying to raise her self-respect with fine clothes and flattery, which she took readily, so that instead of a wild, hapless little savage jumping into the house, and rushing to squeeze us all breathless, there lighted from handsome black pony a very dignified person, with brown ringlets falling from the cover of a feathered beaver, and a long cloth habit, which she was obliged to hold up with both hands that she might sail in. Hindley lifted her from her horse, exclaiming delightedly, Why, Cathy, you are quite a beauty. I should scarcely have known you. You look like a lady now. Isabella Linton is not to be compared with her, is she, Francis? Isabella has not her natural advantages, replied his wife, but she must mind and not grow wild again here. Ellen, help Miss Catherine off with her things. Stay, dear, you will disarrange your curls. Let me untie your hat. I removed the habit, and there shone forth beneath, a grand plaid silk frock, white trousers and burnished shoes. And while her eyes sparkled joyfully when the dogs came bounding up to welcome her, she dared hardly touch them, lest they should fawn upon her splendid garments. She kissed me gently, I was all flower making the Christmas cake, and it would not have done to give me a hug. And then she looked round for Heathcliff. Mr. and Mrs. Earnshaw watched anxiously their meeting, thinking it would enable them to judge in so measure what grounds they had for hoping to succeed in separating the two friends. Heathcliff was hard to discover at first. If he were careless and uncared for before Catherine's absence, he had been ten times more so since. Nobody but I even did him the kindness to call him a dirty boy and bid him wash himself once a week, and children of his age seldom have a natural pleasure in soap and water. Therefore not to mention his clothes, which had seen three months' service in mire and dust, and his thick, uncombed hair, the surface of his face and hands was dismally beclouded. He might well sculpt behind the settle on beholding such a bright, graceful damsel end to the house, instead of a rough-headed counterpart of himself, as he expected. Is Heathcliff not here? she demanded, pulling off her gloves and displaying fingers wonderfully whitened with doing nothing and staying indoors. Heathcliff, you may come forward, cried Mr. Hindley, enjoying his disconfiture, and gratified to see what a forbidding young blagger he would be compelled to present himself. You may come and wish Miss Catherine welcome like the other servants. Cathy, catching a glimpse of her friend in his concealment, flew to embrace him. She bestowed seven or eight kisses on his cheek within the second, and then stopped, and, drawing back, burst into a laugh, exclaiming, Why, how very black and cross you look, and how alvony and grim! But that's because I'm used to Edgar and Isabella Linton. Well, Heathcliff, have you forgotten me? She had some reason to put the question, for shame and pride threw double gloom over his countenance, and kept him immovable. Shake hands, Heathcliff, said Mr. Earnshaw condescendingly, once in a way that is permitted. I shall not, replied the boy, finding his tongue at last. I shall not stand to be laughed at. I shall not bear it. And he would have broken from the circle, but Miss Cathy seized him again. I did not mean to laugh at you, she said. I could not hinder myself. Heathcliff, shake hands at least. What are you sulky for? It was only that you looked odd. If you wash your face and brush your hair, it will be all right. But you are so dirty. She gazed concernedly at the dusky fingers she held in her own, and also at her dress, which she feared had gained no embellishment from its contact with his. You needn't have touched me, he answered, following her eye and snatching away his hand. I shall be as dirty as I please, and I like to be dirty, and I will be dirty. Was that, he dashed head foremost out of the room, amid the merriment of the master and mistress, and to the serious disturbance of Catherine, who could not comprehend our remarks, should have produced such an exhibition of bad temper. After playing ladies-made to the newcomer and putting my cakes in the oven, and making the house and kitchen cheerful with great fires befitting Christmas Eve, I prepared to sit down and amuse myself by singing carols all alone, regardless of Josie's affirmations that he considered the merry tunes I chose as next door to songs. He had retired to private prayer in his chamber, and Mr. and Mrs. Earnshaw were engaging Mrs. attention by sundry gay trifles bought for her to present to the little lanterns, as an acknowledgment of their kindness. They had invited them to spend the morrow at Wuthering Heights, and the invitation had been accepted on one condition. Mrs. Linton begged that her darlings might be kept carefully apart from that naughty, swearing boy. Under these circumstances I remained solitary. I smelt the rich scent of the heating spices, and admired the shining kitchen utensils, the polished clock decked in holly, the silver mokes ranged on a tray, ready to be filled with mulled ale for supper, and above all the speckless purity of my particular care, the scoured and well-swapped floor. I gave due inward applause to every object, and then I remembered how old Earnshaw used to come in when all was tidied, and call me a camp glass, and slip a shilling into my hand as a Christmas box. And from that I went on to think of his fondness for Heathcliff, and his dread lest he should suffer neglect after death had removed him, and that naturally led me to consider the poor lad's situation now, and from singing I changed my mind to crying. It struck me soon, however, there would be more sense in endeavouring to repair some of his wrongs than shedding tears over them. I got up and walked into the court to seek him. He was not far. I found him smoothing the glossy coat of the new pony in the stable, and feeding the other beasts according to custom. Make haste, Heathcliff. I said. The kitchen is so comfortable, and Joseph is upstairs. Make haste, and let me dress you smart before Miss Cathy comes out, and then you can sit together with the whole half to yourselves and have a long chatter till bedtime. He proceeded with his task and never turned his head towards me. Come! Are you coming? I continued. There's a little cake for each of you nearly enough, and you'll need half an hour's dawning. I waited five minutes, but getting no answer left him. Catherine soaked with her brother and sister-in-law. Joseph and I joined at an unsociable meal, seasoned with reproofs on one side and sauciness on the other. His cake and cheese remained on the table all night for the fairies. He managed to continue work till nine o'clock, and then marched doom and doer to his chamber. Cathy sat up late, having a world of things to order for the reception of her new friends. She came into the kitchen once to speak to her old one, but he was gone, and she only stayed to ask what was the matter with him, and then went back. In the morning he rose early, and as it was a holiday carried his ill humour onto the moors, not reappearing till the family were departed for church. Fasting and reflection seemed to have brought him to a better spirit. He hung about me for a while, and having screwed up his courage, exclaimed abruptly. Nelly, make me decent, I'm going to be good. Hi, time, Heathcliff," I said. You have grieved Catherine. She's sorry she ever came home, I dare say. It looks as if you envied her, because she is more thought of than you. The notion of envying Catherine was incomprehensible to him, but the notion of grieving her he understood clearly enough. Did she say she was grieved? He inquired, looking very serious. She cried when I told her you were off again this morning. Well, I cried last night, he returned, and I had more reason to cry than she. Yes, you had the reason of going to bed with a proud heart and an empty stomach, said I. Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves. But if you be ashamed of your touchiness, you must ask pardon mind when she comes in. You must go up and offer to kiss her, and say, You know best what to say. Only do it heartily, and not as if you thought her converted into a stranger by her grand dress. And now, though I have dinner to get ready, I'll steal time to arrange you, so that Edgar Linton shall look quite a doll beside you. And that he does. You are younger, and yet I'll be bound your taller and twice as broad across the shoulders. You could knock him down in a twinkling. Don't you feel that you could? East Cliff's face brightened a moment, then it was overcast afresh, and he sighed. But Nellie, if I knocked him down twenty times, that wouldn't make him less handsome, or me more so. I wish I had light hair and a fair skin, and was dressed and behaved as well, and had a chance of being as rich as he will be. And cried for Mamar at every turn, I added, and trembled if a country light heaved his fist against you, and sat at home all day for a shower of rain. Oh, Heathcliff, you are showing a poor spirit. Come to the glass, and I'll let you see what you should wish. Do you mark those two lines between your eyes, and those thick brows that, instead of rising arched, sink in the middle? And that couple of black fiends, so deeply buried, will never open their windows boldly, but lurk glinting under them like devil's spies. Wish and learn to smooth away the surly wrinkles, to raise your lids frankly, and change the fiends to confident innocent angels, suspecting and doubting nothing, and always seeing friends where they're not sure of foes. Don't get the expression of a vicious kerb that appears to know the kicks it gets are its dessert, and yet hate all the world as well as the kicker for what it suffers. In other words I must wish for Edgar Linton's great blue eyes and even forehead, he replied, I do, and that won't help me to them. A good heart will help you to a bonny face, my lad, I continued, if you were a regular black, and a bad one will turn the bonniest into something worse than ugly. And now that we've done washing and combing and soaking, tell me whether you don't think yourself rather handsome. I'll tell you, I do, you're fit for a prince in disguise. Who knows but your father was Emperor of China, and your mother an Indian Queen, each of them able to buy up with one week's income, withering heights and thrush cross grains together, and you were kidnapped by wicked sailors and brought to England. Were I in your place I would frame high notions of my birth, and the thoughts of what I was should give me courage and dignity to support the oppressions of a little farmer. So I chattered on, and Eastcliff gradually lost his frown and began to look quite pleasant, when all at once our conversation was interrupted by a rumbling sound moving up the road and entering the court. He ran to the window and eye to the door, just in time to behold the two Linton's descend from the family carriage, smothered in cloaks and furs, and the urnshares dismount from their horses. They often rode to church in winter. Catherine took a hand of each of the children and brought them into the house and set them before the fire, which quickly put colour into their white faces. I urged my companion to hasten now and show his amiable humour, and he willingly obeyed. But ill luck would have it that as he opened the door leading from the kitchen on one side, Hindley opened it on the other. They met, and the master irritated at seeing him clean and cheerful, or perhaps eager to keep his promise to Mrs. Linton, shoved him back with a sudden thrust, and angrily bad Joseph, keep the fellow out of the room, send him into the garret till dinner is over. He'll be cramming his fingers in the tarts and stealing the fruit if left alone with them a minute. Nay, sir! I could not avoid answering. He who touched nothing, not he, and I suppose he must have his share of the dainties as well as we. He shall have a share of my hand if I catch him downstairs till dark. Cried Hindley. Begone, your vagabond! What! you are attempting the coxcom, are you? Wait till I get hold of those elegant locks. See if I won't pull them a bit longer. They're long enough already. Observed Master Linton peeping from the doorway. I wonder they don't make his headache. It's like a coat's mane over his eyes. He ventured this remark without any intention to insult, but Eastcliff's violent nature was not prepared to endure the appearance of impertinence from one whom he seemed to hate even then as a rival. He seized a tureen of hot apple sauce, the first thing that came under his grip, and dashed it full against the speaker's face and neck. Who instantly commenced a lament that brought Isabella and Catherine hurrying to the place? Mr. Earnshaw snatched up the culprit directly and conveyed him to his chamber, where doubtless he administered a rough remedy to cool the fit of passion, for he appeared red and breathless. I got the dishcloth and rather spitefully scrubbed Eggers' nose and mouth, affirming it served him right for meddling. His sister began weeping to go home. And Cathy stood by confounded, blushing for all. You should not have spoken to him. She expostulated with Master Linton. He was in a bad temper. Now you've spoiled your visit, and he'll be flogged. I hate him to be flogged. I can't eat my dinner. Why did you speak to him, Edgar? I didn't. Sobbed the use, escaping from my hands, and finishing the remainder of the purification with his Cambridge pocket-hunk-achieve. I promised my mar that I wouldn't say one word to him, and I didn't. Well, don't cry, replied Catherine contemptuously. You're not killed. Don't make more mischief. My brother is coming. Be quiet. Oh, she's Isabella. Does anybody hurt you? There, there, children, to your seats! cried Hindley, bustling in. That brute of a lad has warmed me nicely. Next time, Master Edgar, take the law into your own fists. It will give you an appetite. The little party recovered its equanimity at sight of the fragrant feast. They were hungry after their ride, and easily consoled, since no real harm had befallen them. Mr. Earnshaw carved bountiful platefuls, and the mistress made the merry with lively talk. I waited behind her chair, and was pained to behold Catherine with dry eyes and an indifferent air, commence cutting up the wing of a goose before her. An unfeeling child, I thought to myself. How lightly she dismisses her old playmate's troubles. I could not have imagined her to be so selfish. She lifted a mouthful to her lips. Then she set it down again, her cheeks flushed, and the tears gushed over them. She slipped her fork to the floor, and hastily dived under the cloth to conceal her emotion. I did not call her unfeeling long, for I perceived she was in purgatory throughout the day, and wearying to find an opportunity of getting by herself, or paying a visit to Eastcliff, who had been locked up by the master, as I discovered on endeavouring to introduce to him a private mess of vitals. In the evening we had a dance. Cassie begged that he might be liberated then, as Isabella Linton had no partner. Her entreaties were vain, and I was appointed to supply the deficiency. We got rid of all gloom in the excitement of the exercise, and our pleasure was increased by the arrival of the Gimmerton Band, mustering fifteen strong, a trumpet, a trombone, clarionettes, bassoons, French horns, and a bass vial, besides singers. They go the rounds of all the respectable houses, and receive contributions every Christmas, and we esteemed it a first-rate treat to hear them. After the usual carols had been sung, we set them to songs and glies. Mrs. Earnshaw loved the music, and so they gave us plenty. Catherine loved it too, but she said it sounded sweetest at the top of the steps, and she went up in the dark. I followed. They shut the house door below, never noting our absence it was so full of people. She made no stay at the stairs-head, but mounted farther to the garret where Heathcliff was confined, and called him. He stubbornly declined answering for a while. She persevered, and finally persuaded him to hold communion with her through the boards. I let the poor things converse unmolested, till I suppose the songs were going to cease, and the singers to get some refreshment. Then I clambered up the ladder to warn her. Instead of finding her outside, I heard her voice within. The little monkey had crept by the skylight of one garret, along the roof, into the skylight of the other. And it was with the utmost difficulty I could coax her out again. When she did come, Heathcliff came with her, and she insisted that I should take him into the kitchen, as my fellow servant had gone to her neighbours, to be removed from the sound of our devil's armaday, as it pleased him to call it. I told them I intended by no means to encourage their tricks, but as the prisoner had never broken his fast since yesterday's dinner, I would wink at his cheating, Mr Hindley, that once. He went down. I set him astool by the fire, and offered him a quantity of good things, but he was sick and could eat little, and my attempts to entertain him were thrown away. He lent his two elbows on his knees and his chin on his hands, and remained wrapped in dumb meditation. On my inquiring the subject of his thoughts, he answered gravely, I'm trying to settle how I shall pay Hindley back. I don't care how long I wait, if I can only do it at last. I hope he will not die before I do. For sure, Heathcliff, said I, it is for God to punish wicked people. We should learn to forgive. No, God won't have the satisfaction that I shall. He returned. I only wish I knew the best way. Let me alone, and I'll plan it out. While I'm thinking of that, I don't feel pain. But, Mr Lockwood, I forget these tales cannot divert you. I'm annoyed how I should dream of chattering on at such a rate, and you're cruel, cold, and you nodding for bed. I could have told Heathcliff's history all that you'll need here in half a dozen words. Thus interrupting herself, the housekeeper rose, and proceeded to lay aside her sewing. But I felt incapable of moving from the hearth, and I was very far from nodding. Sit still, Mrs Dean, I cried. Do sit still another half hour. You've done just right to tell the story leisurely. That is the method I like, and you must finish it in the same style. I am interested in every character you have mentioned, more or less. The clock is on the stroke of eleven, sir. No matter. I'm not accustomed to go to bed in the long hours. One or two is early enough for a person who lies till ten. You shouldn't lie till ten. There's the very prime of the morning gone long before that time. A person who has not done one half his day's work by ten o'clock runs a chance of leaving the other half undone. Nevertheless, Mrs Dean, resume your chair, because tomorrow I intend lengthening the night till afternoon. I prognosticate for myself an obstinate cold, at least. I hope not, sir. Well, you must allow me to leap over some three years. During hot-space, Mrs Earnshaw— No, no, I'll allow nothing of the sort. Are you acquainted with the mood of mind in which, if you were seated alone, and the cat licking its kitten on the rug before you, you would watch the operation so intently that Puss's neglect of one ear would put you seriously out of temper? A terribly lazy mood, I should say. On the contrary, a tire-simly active one. It is mine at present, and therefore continue minutely. I perceive that people in these regions acquire over people in towns the value that a spider in a dungeon does over a spider in a cottage to their various occupants. And yet the deepened attraction is not entirely owing to the situation of the looker on. They do live more in earnest, more in themselves, and less in surface change and frivolous external things. I could fancy a love for life here, almost possible, and I was a fixed unbeliever in any love of a year's standing. One state resembles setting a hungry man down to a single dish, on which he may concentrate his entire appetite and do it justice. The other, introducing him to a table laid out by French cooks. He can perhaps extract as much enjoyment from the whole, but each part is a mere atom in his regard and remembrance. Oh, here we are the same as anywhere else, when you get to know us. Observed Mrs. Dean somewhat puzzled at my speech. Excuse me, I responded. You, my good friend, are a striking evidence against that assertion. Accepting a few provincialisms of slight consequence, you have no marks of the manners which I am habituated to consider as peculiar to your class. I am sure you have thought a great deal more than the generality of servants think. You have been compelled to cultivate your reflective faculties, for want of occasions for frittering your life away in silly trifles. Mrs. Dean laughed. I certainly esteem myself a steady, reasonable kind of body, she said, not exactly from living among the hills and seeing one set of faces and one series of actions, from year's end to year's end. But I have undergone sharp discipline, which has taught me wisdom. And then I have read more than you would fancy, Mr. Lockwood. You could not open a book in this library that I have not looked into and got something out of, unless it be that range of Greek and Latin and that of French, and those I know one from another. It is as much as you can expect of a poor man's daughter. However, if I am to follow my story in true gossip's fashion, I'd better go on. And instead of leaping three years, I will be content to pass to the next summer—the summer of 1778. That is nearly twenty-three years ago. End of Chapter 7, Recording by Ruth Golding On the morning of a fine June day, my first bonny little nursing, and the last of the ancient unsure stock was born, we were busy with the hay in a faraway field, when the girl that usually brought our breakfasts came running an hour too soon across the meadow, and up the lane, calling me as she ran. Oh, such a grand-ben! she panted out, the finest lad that ever breathed. But the doctor says Mrs. must go. He says she's been in a consumption these many months. I heard him tell Mr. Hindley, and now she has nothing to keep her, and she'll be dead before winter. You must come home directly. You're to nurse it, Nelly, to feed it with sugar and milk, and take care of it day and night. I wish I were you, because it will be all yours when there's no Mrs. But is she very ill? I asked, flinging down my rake and tying my bonnet. I guess she is, yet she looks bravely, replied the girl. And she talks as if she thought of living to see it grow a man. She's out of her head for joy at such a beauty. If I were her, I'm certain I should not die. I should get better at the bare sight of it in spite of Kenneth. I was fairly mad at him. Day Marcher brought the cherub down to master in the house, and his face just began to light up, when the old croaker steps forward and says he, Earn sure it's a blessing your wife has been spared to leave you this son. When she came, I felt convinced we shouldn't keep her long, and now I must tell you the winter will probably finish her. Don't take on and fret about it too much. It can't be helped. Besides, you should have known better than to choose such a rush of a lass. And what did the master answer? I inquired. I think he swore, but I didn't mind him. I was straining to see the bear. And she began again to describe it rapturously. I, as zealous as herself, hurried eagerly home to admire on my part, though I was very sad for Hindley's sake. He had room in his heart only for two idols, his wife and himself. He doted on both, and adored one, and I couldn't conceive how he would bear the loss. When we got to Wuthering Heights, there he stood at the front door, and as I passed in, I asked, how was the baby? Nearly ready to run about now, he replied, putting on a cheerful smile. On the mistress, I ventured to inquire. The doctor says she's—damn the doctor! He interrupted, reddening. Francis is quite right. She'll be perfectly well by this time next week. Are you going upstairs? Will you tell her that I'll come, if she'll promise not to talk? I'll left her, because she would not hold her tongue, and she must. Tell her Mr. Kenneth says she must be quiet. I delivered this message to Mrs. Earnshaw. She seemed in flighty spirits, and replied merrily, hardly spoke a word, Ellen, and there he's gone out twice, crying. Well, say, I promise I won't speak, but that does not bind me not to laugh at him. Poor soul! Till within a week of her death that gay heart never failed her, and her husband persisted doggedly, nay furiously, in affirming her health improved every day. When Kenneth warned him that his medicines were useless at that stage of the malady, and he needn't put him to further expense by attending her, he retorted, I know you need not. She's well. She does not want any more attendance from you. She never was in a consumption. It was a fever, and it is gone. Her pulse is as slow as mine now, and her cheek is cool. He told his wife the same story, and she seemed to believe him. But one night, while leaning on his shoulder, in the act of saying she thought she should be able to get up to-morrow, a fit of coughing took her. A very slight one. He raised her in his arms. She put two hands about his neck. Her face changed, and she was dead. As the girl had anticipated, the child-hatern fell wholly into my hands. Mr. Earnshaw provided he saw him healthy, and never heard him cry, was contented as far as regarded him. For himself he grew desperate. His sorrow was of that kind that will not lament, he neither wept nor prayed. He cursed and defied, execrated God and man, and gave himself up to reckless dissipation. The servants could not bear his tyrannical and evil conduct long. Joseph and I were the only two that would stay. I had not the heart to leave my charge, and besides, you know, I'd been his foster sister, and excused his behaviour more readily than a stranger would. Joseph remained a hector over tenants and labourers, and because it was his vocation to be, where he had plenty of wickedness to reprove. The master's bad ways and bad companions formed a pretty example for Catherine and Heathcliff. His treatment of the latter was enough to make a fiend of a saint, and truly it appeared as if the lad were possessed of something diabolical at that period. He delighted to witness Hindley degrading himself past redemption, and became daily more notable for savage sullenness and ferocity. I could not have tell what an infernal house we had. The curate dropped calling, and nobody decent came near us at last, unless Edgar Linton's visits to Miss Cathy might be an exception. At fifteen she was queen of the countryside, she had no peer, and she did turn out a haughty, headstrong creature. Iona did not like her after infancy was passed, and I vexed her frequently by trying to bring down her arrogance. She never took an aversion to mytho, she had a wondrous constancy to old attachments. Even Heathcliff kept his hold on her affections unalterably, and young Linton, with all his superiority, found it difficult to make an equally deep impression. He was my late master, that is his portrait over the fireplace. It used to hang on one side and his wife's on the other, but hers has been removed, or else you might see something of what she was. Can you make that out? Mrs. Dean raised a candle, and I discerned a soft featured face, exceedingly resembling the young lady at the heights, but more pensive and amiable in expression. It formed a sweet picture. The long light hair curled slightly on the temples, the eyes were large and serious, the figure almost too graceful. I did not marvel how Catherine Earnshaw could forget her first friend for such an individual. I marveled much how he, with a mind to correspond with his person, could fancy my idea of Catherine Earnshaw. A very agreeable portrait, I observed to the housekeeper. Is it like? Yes, she answered. But he looked better when he was animated, that is his everyday countenance. He wanted spirit in general. Catherine had kept up her acquaintance with the Linton since her five weeks residence among them, and as she had no temptation to show her rough side in their company, and had the sense to be ashamed of being ruled where she experienced such invariable courtesy, she imposed unwittingly on the old lady and gentleman by her ingenious cordiality, gained the admiration of Isabella and the heart and soul of her brother, acquisitions that flattered her from the first, for she was full of ambition, and led her to adopt a double character, without exactly intending to deceive anyone. In the place where she heard Eastcliff termed a vulgar young Ruffian, and worse than a brute, she took care not to act like him, but at home she had small inclination to practice politeness that would only be laughed at, and to restrain an unruly nature when it would bring her neither credit nor praise. Mr. Edgar Seldar must had courage to visit Wuthering Heights openly. He had a terror of Earnshaw's reputation, and shrunk from encountering him, and yet he was always received with our best attempts at civility. The master himself avoided offending him, knowing why he came, and if he could not be gracious kept out of the way. I rather think his appearance there was distasteful to Catherine. She was not artful, never played the coquette, and had evidently an objection to her two friends meeting at all, for when Eastcliff expressed contempt of Linton in his presence, she could not half coincide as she did in his absence. And when Linton evinced disgust and antipathy to Eastcliff, she dared not treat his sentiments with indifference, as if depreciation of her playmate were of scarcely any consequence to her. I've had many a laugh at her perplexities and untold troubles, which she vainly strove to hide from my mockery. That sounds ill-natured, but she was so proud, it became really impossible to pity her distresses, till she should be chastened into more humility. She did bring herself finally to confess, and to confide in me. There was not a soul else that she might fashion into an adviser. Mr. Hindley had gone from home one afternoon, and Eastcliff presumed to give himself a holiday on the strengths of it. He had reached the age of sixteen, then, I think. And without having bad features or being deficient in intellect, he contrived to convey an impression of inward and outward repulsiveness that his present aspect retains no traces of. In the first place he had by that time lost the benefit of his early education. Continual hard work, begun soon and concluded late, had extinguished any curiosity he once possessed in pursuit of knowledge, and any love for books or learning. His childhood sense of superiority, instilled into him by the favours of old Mr. Earnshaw, was faded away. He struggled long to keep up in equality with Catherine in her studies, and yielded with poignant though silent regret. But he yielded completely, and there was no prevailing on him to take a step in the way of moving upward, when he found he must necessarily sink beneath his former level. Then personal appearance sympathised with mental deterioration. He acquired a slouching gait and ignoble look. His naturally reserved disposition was exaggerated into an almost idiotic excess of unassuciable moroseness. And he took a grim pleasure, apparently, in exciting the aversion rather than the esteem of his few acquaintance. Catherine and he were constant companions still at his seasons of respite from labour. But he had ceased to express his fondness for her in words, and recoiled with angry suspicion from her girlish caresses, as if conscious there could be no gratification in lavishing such marks of affection on him. On the before-named occasion he came into the house to announce his intention of doing nothing, while I was assisting Miss Cathy to arrange her dress. She had not reckoned on his taking it into his head to be idle, and imagining she would have the whole place to herself, she managed by some means to inform Mr Edgar of her brother's absence, and was then preparing to receive him. Cathy, are you busy this afternoon? asked Tease Gliff. Are you going anywhere? No, it is raining, she answered. Why have you that silk frock on then? he said. Nobody coming here, I hope. Not that I know of, stammered Miss. But you should be in the field now, Heathcliff. It is an hour past dinner time. I thought you were gone. Inley does not often free us from his accursed presence. Observed the boy. I'll not work any more to-day. I'll stay with you. Oh, but Joseph will tell! she suggested. You'd better go. Joseph is loading lime on the further side of Peniston Craggs. It will take him till dark, and he'll never know. So saying, he lounged to the fire and sat down. 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're on the risk of being scolded for no good. Order Ellen to say you're engaged, Kathy. He persisted. Don't turn me out for those pitiful, silly friends of yours. I'm on the point sometimes of complaining that they're— But I'm 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 almanac on that wall. He pointed to a framed sheet hanging near the window, and continued, the crosses are for the evenings you've spent with the Lintons, the dots for those spent with me. Do you see? I've marked every day. Yes, very foolish, as if I took notice, replied Catherine in a peevish tone. And where is the sense of that? To show that I do take notice, said Heathcliff. And should I always be sitting with you? she demanded, growing more irritated. What good do I get? What do you talk about? You might be dumb or a baby for anything you say to amuse me, or for anything you do, either. You never told me before that I talked too little, or that you disliked my company, Cathy, exclaimed Heathcliff in much agitation. It's no company at all, when people know nothing and say nothing, she muttered. Her companion rose up, but he hadn't time to express his feelings further, for a horse's feet were heard on the flags, and having knocked gently, young Linton entered. His face brilliant with delight at the unexpected summons he had received. Doubtless Catherine marked the difference between her friends, as one came in and the other went out. The contrast resembled what you see in exchanging a bleak hilly coal country for a beautiful fertile valley, and his voice and greeting were as opposite as his aspect. He had a sweet, low manner of speaking, and pronounced his words as you do, that's less gruff than we talk here, and softer. I've not come too soon, am I? he said, casting a look at me. I had begun to wipe the plate, and tidy some drawers at the far end in the dresser. No, answered Catherine. What are you doing there, Nellie? My work, Miss, I replied. Mr. Hindley had given me directions to make a third party in any private visits Linton chose to pay. She stepped behind me and whispered crossly, Take yourself and your dusters off. When company are in the house, servants don't commence scouring and cleaning in the room where they are. It's a good opportunity now that Master is away. I answered aloud. He hates me to be fidgeting over these things in his presence. I'm sure Mr. Edgar will excuse me. I hate you to be fidgeting in my presence. Exclaimed the young lady imperiously, not allowing her guest time to speak. She had failed to recover her equanimity since the little dispute with Heathcliff. I'm sorry for it, Miss Catherine, was my response, and I proceeded assiduously with my occupation. She, supposing Edgar could not see her, snatched a cloth from my hand, and pinched me with a prolonged wrench, very spitefully on the arm. I've said I did not love her, and rather relished mortifying her vanity now and then. Besides, she hurt me extremely. So I started up from my knees and screamed out, Oh, Miss, that's a nasty trick. You have no right to knit me and I'm not going to bear it. I didn't touch you, you lying creature! cried she, her fingers tingling to repeat the act, and her ears red with rage. She never had power to conceal her passion. It always set her whole complexion in a blaze. What's that, then? I retorted, showing a decided purple witness to refute her. She stamped her foot, wavered a moment, and then irresistibly impelled by the naughty spirit within her, slapped me on the cheek, a stinging blow that filled both eyes with water. Catherine, love, Catherine! interposed, Linton greatly shocked at the double fault of falsehood and violence which his idol had committed. Leave the room, Ellen! she repeated, trembling all over. Little Herton, who followed me everywhere and was sitting near me on the floor, at seeing my tears commenced crying himself, and sobbed out complaints against wiki-dant Cathy, which drew her fury onto his unlucky head. She seized his shoulders and shook him till the poor child waxed livid, and Edgar thoughtlessly laid hold of her hands to deliver him. In an instant one was wrung free, and the astonished young man felt it applied over his own ear, in a way that could not be mistaken for jest. He drew back in consternation. I lifted Herton in my arms and walked off to the kitchen with him, leaving the door of communication open, for I was curious to watch how they would settle their disagreement. The insulted visitor moved to the spot where he had laid his heart, pale and with a quivering lip. That's right, I said to myself, take warning and be gone. It's a kindness to let you have a glimpse of her genuine disposition. Where are you going? demanded Catherine, advancing to the door. He swerved aside and attempted to pass. You must not go! she exclaimed energetically. I must and shall, he replied in a subdued voice. No! she persisted, grasping the handle. Not yet, Edgar Linton, sit down. You shall not leave me in that temper. I should be miserable all night and I won't be miserable for you. Can I stay after you have struck me? asked Linton. Catherine was mute. You've made me afraid and ashamed of you, he continued. I'll not come here again. Her eyes began to glisten and her lids to twinkle. And you told a deliberate untruth, he said. I didn't! she cried, recovering her speech. I did nothing deliberately. Well, go, if you please, get away. No, I'll cry. I'll cry myself sick. She dropped down on her knees by a chair and set her weeping in serious earnest. Edgar persevered in his resolution as far as the court. There he lingered. I resolved to encourage him. Mrs. dreadfully wayward, sir, I called out, as bad as any marred child. You'd better be riding home or else she will be sick, only to grieve us. The soft thing looked a scant through the window. He possessed the power to depart, as much as a cat possesses the power to leave a mouse half killed or a bird half eaten. Ah, I thought, there will be no saving him. He's doomed and flies to his fate. And so it was. He turned abruptly, hastened into the house again, shut the door behind him. And when I went in a while after, to inform them that Earnshaw had come home rabid drunk, ready to pull the whole place about our ears, his ordinary frame of mind in that condition, I saw the quarrel had merely affected a closer intimacy, had broken the artworks of useful timidity, and enabled them to forsake the disguise of friendship and confess themselves lovers. Intelligence of Mr. Hindley's arrival drove Linton speedily to his horse and Catherine to her chamber. I went to hide little Herton, and to take the shot out of the master's fouling-piece, which he was fond of playing with in his insane excitement, to the hazard of the lives of any who provoked, or even attracted his notice too much. And I had hit upon the plan of removing it, that he might do less mischief if he did go the length of firing the gun. End of Chapter 8, Recording by Ruth Golding. Chapter 9. He entered, vociferating old's dreadful to hear, and caught me in the act of stowing his son away in the kitchen cupboard. Herton was impressed with a wholesome terror of encountering either his wild beast's fondness, or his madman's rage, for in one he ran a chance of being squeezed and kissed to death, and in the other of being flung into the fire, or dashed against the wall, and the poor thing remained perfectly quiet wherever I chose to put him. There I found it at last, cried Hindley, pulling me back by the skin of my neck like a dog. By heaven and hell you've sworn between you to murder that child. I know how it is now, that he is always out of my way, but with the help of Satan I shall make you swallow that carving knife nearly. You needn't laugh, for I've just crammed Kenneth's head down most in a black horse marsh, and two is the same as one. And I want to kill some of you. I shall have no rest till I do. But I don't like the carving knife, Mr. Hindley, I answered. It has been cutting red herrings. I'd rather be shot, if you please. You'd rather be dumbed, he said. And so you shall. No law in England can hinder a man from keeping his house decent, and mine's abominable. Open your mouth. He held the knife in his hand and pushed its point between my teeth. But for my part I was never much afraid of his vagaries. I spat out, and affirmed it tasted detestably. I would not take it on any account. Oh! said he, releasing me. I see that hideous little villain is not there, and I beg your pardon now. If it be deserves playing alive for not running to welcome me, and for screaming, as if I were a goblin. Oh, natural cope, come hither! I'll teach thee to impose on a good-hearted deluded father. Now, don't you think the lad would be handsome or cropped? It makes a dog fiercer, and I love something fierce. Get me a scissors, something fierce and trim. Besides its infernal affectation, devilish conceit it is to cherish our ears, where ass is enough without them. Hush, child, hush. Well then, it is my darling. Wish dry thy eyes. There's a joy. Kiss me. What? It won't. Kiss me, Herton. Dammit, kiss me. By God, as if I would rear such a monster. As sure as I'm living, I'll break the brat's neck. Poor Herton was squalling and kicking in his father's arms with all his might, and redoubled his yells when he carried him upstairs and lifted him over the banister. I cried out that he would frighten the child into fits and run to rescue him. As I reached him, Endly lent forward on the rails to listen to a noise below, almost forgetting what he had in his hands. Oh, is that! he asked, hearing someone approaching the stairs foot. I lent forward also for the purpose of signing to Heathcliff, whose step I recognized not to come further. And at the instant when my eye quitted Herton, it gave a sudden spring, delivered himself from the careless grasp that held him, and fell. There was scarcely time to experience a thrill of horror before we saw that the little wretch was safe. Heathcliff arrived underneath just at the critical moment. By a natural impulse he arrested his descent, and, setting him on his feet, looked up to discover the author of the accident. A miser who was parted with a lucky lottery ticket for five shillings, and finds next day he has lost in the bargain five thousand pounds, could not show a blanker countenance than he did on beholding the figure of Mr. Earnshaw above. It expressed plainer than words could do the intensest anguish at having made himself the instrument of thwarting his own revenge. Had it been dark, I dare say he would have tried to remedy the mistake by smashing Herton's skull on the steps. But we witnessed his salvation, and I was presently below with my precious charge pressed to my heart. Hindley descended more leisurely, sobered and debashed. It is your fault, Ellen, he said. You should have kept him out of sight. You should have taken him from me. Is he injured anywhere? Injured, I cried angrily. If he is not killed, he'll be an idiot. Oh, I wonder his mother does not rise from her grave to see how you use him. You're worse than a heathen treating your own flesh and blood in that manner. He attempted to touch the child, who on finding himself with me sobbed off his terror directly. At the first finger his father laid on him, however, he shrieked again louder than before and struggled as if he would go into convulsions. You shall not meddle with him, I continued. He hates you. They all hate you. That's the truth. A happy family you have, and a pretty state you've come to. I shall come to a prettier yet, Nelly. Laughed the misguided man, recovering his hardness. At present convey yourself an' him away. And hark you, H. Cliff, clear you too, quiet from my reach and hearing. I wouldn't murder you tonight, unless perhaps I set the house on fire. But that's as my fancy goes. While seeing this, he took a pint bottle of brandy from the dresser and poured some into a tumbler. Nay, don't! I entreated. Mr. Hindley, do take warning. Have mercy on this unfortunate boy, if you care nothing for yourself. Anyone will do better for him than I shall. He answered. Have mercy on your own soul, I said, endeavouring to snatch the glass from his hand. Not I. On the contrary, I shall have great pleasure in sending it to perdition to punish its maker. It exclaimed the blasphemer. Years to its heart, he damnation. He drank the spirits and impatiently bade us go, terminating his command with a sequel of horrid implications, too bad to repeat or remember. It's a pity he cannot kill himself with drink, observed teeth-cliff, muttering an echo of curses back when the door was shut. He's doing his very art most, but his constitution defies him. Mr. Kenneth says he would wager his mare that he'll outlive any man on this side gimmerton and go to the grave of Aury Sinner, unless some happy chance out of the common course before him. I went into the kitchen and sat down to lull my little lamb to sleep. Heath-cliff, as I thought, walked through to the barn. It turned out afterwards that he only got as far as the other side to settle when he flung himself on a bench by the wall, removed from the fire, and remained silent. I was rocking head and on my knee and humming a song that began. It was far in the night and the bernie's grot, the mither beneath the mules heard that. When Miss Cathy, who had listened to the hubbub from her room, put her head in and whispered, Are you alone, Nelly? Yes, Miss, I replied. She entered and approached the hearth. I, supposing she was going to say something, looked up. The expression of her face seemed disturbed and anxious. Her lips were half asunder as if she meant to speak, and she drew a breath, but it escaped in a sigh, instead of a sentence. I resumed my song not having forgotten her recent behaviour. Where's Heath-cliff? she said, interrupting me. About his work in the stable was my answer. He did not contradict me, perhaps he had fallen into a dose. There followed another long pause, during which I perceived a drop or two trickle from Catherine's cheek to the flags. Is she sorry for her shameful conduct? I asked myself. That will be a novelty. But she may come to the point. As she will, I shan't help her. No, she felt small trouble regarding any subject save her own concerns. Oh, dear! she cried at last. I'm very unhappy. A pity! observed I. You're hard to please. So many friends and so few cares and can't make yourself content. Nelly, will you keep a secret for me? She pursued, kneeling down by me, and lifting her winsome eyes to my face, with that sort of look which turns off bad temper, even when one has all the right in the world to indulge it. Is it worth keeping? I inquired less soquely. Yes, and it worries me, and I must let it out. I want to know what I should do. Today Edgar Linton has asked me to marry him, and I've given him an answer. Now, before I tell you whether it was a consent or denial, you tell me which it ought to have been. Really, Miss Catherine, how can I know? I replied. To be sure, considering the exhibition you performed in his presence this afternoon, I might say it would be wise to refuse him. Since he asked you after that, he must either be hopelessly stupid or a venturesome fool. If you talk so, I won't tell you any more. She returned, peevishly rising to her feet. I accepted him, Nellie. Be quick and say whether I was wrong. You accepted him. Then what good is it discussing the matter? You have pledged your word and cannot retract. But say whether I should have done so, do! She exclaimed in an irritated tone, chafing her hands together and frowning. There are many things to be considered before that question can be answered properly, I said sententiously. First and foremost, do you love Mr. Edgar? Who can help it? Of course I do, she answered. Then I put her through the following catechism. For a girl of twenty-two it was not injudicious. Why do you love him, Miss Cassie? None since I do. That's sufficient. By no means. You must say why. Well, because he is handsome and pleasant to be with. Bad was my commentary. And because he is young and cheerful. Bad still. And because he loves me. Indifferent coming there. And he will be rich. And I shall like to be the greatest woman of the neighbourhood. And I shall be proud of having such a husband. Worst of all. And now say how you love him. As everybody loves, you're silly, Nelly. Not at all. Answer. I love the ground and his feet, and the air over his head, and everything he touches, and every word he says. I love all his looks and all his actions, and him entirely and altogether. There now. And why? Nay! You're making a jest of it. It is exceedingly ill-natured. It's no jest to me," said the young lady, scowling and turning her face to the fire. I'm very far from jesting, Miss Catherine, I replied. You love Mr. Edgar because he is handsome, and young, and cheerful, and rich, and loves you. The last, however, goes for nothing. You would love him without that, probably. And with it you wouldn't unless he possessed the four former attractions. No, to be sure not. I should only pity him. Hate him, perhaps, if he were ugly and a clown. But there are several other handsome, rich, young men in the world, handsomer possibly, and richer than he is. What should hinder you from loving them? If there be any there out of my way, I've seen none like Edgar. You may see some, and he won't always be handsome and young, and may not always be rich. He is now, and I have only to do with the present. I wish you would speak rationally. Well, that settles it, if you have only to do with the present, marry Mr. Linton. I don't want your permission for that. I shall marry him, and yet you have not told me whether I'm right. Perfectly right, if people be right to marry only for the present. And now let us hear what you are unhappy about. Your brother will be pleased. The old lady and gentleman will not object, I think. You will escape from a disorderly, comfortless home into a wealthy, respectable one. And you love Edgar, and Edgar loves you. All seems smooth and easy. Where is the obstacle? Here and here, replied Catherine, striking one hand on her forehead, and the other on her breast. In whichever place the soul lives, in my soul and in my heart, I'm convinced I'm wrong. That's very strange. I cannot make it out. It's my secret. But if you will not mock at me, I'll explain it. I can't do it distinctly, but I'll give you a feeling of how I feel. She seated herself by me again. Her countenance grew sadder and graver, and her clasped hands trembled. Nellie, do you never dream queer dreams? she said, suddenly, after some minutes' reflection. Yes, now and then, I answered. And so do I. I've dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me ever after, and changed my ideas. They've gone through and through me like wine through water, and altered the colour of my mind. And this is one. I'm going to tell it, but take care not to smile at any part of it. Oh, don't, Miss Catherine, I cried. We're dismal enough without conjuring up ghosts and visions to perplex us. Come, come, be merry and like yourself. Look at little Herton. He's dreaming nothing dreary. How sweetly he smiles in his sleep. Yes, and how sweetly his father curses in his solitude. You remember him, I dare say, when he was just such another as that chubby thing, nearly as young and innocent. However, Nellie, I shall oblige you to listen. It's not long, and I've no power to be merry to-night. I won't hear it! I won't hear it! I repeated hastily. I was superstitious about dreams then, and am still, and Catherine had an unusual gloom in her aspect that made me dread something from which I might shape her prophecy, and foresee a fearful catastrophe. She was vexed, but she did not proceed. Apparently taking up another subject she recommenced in a short time. If I were in heaven, Nellie, I should be extremely miserable. Because you are not fit to go there, I answered. All sinners would be miserable in heaven. But it is not for that. I dreamt once that I was there. I tell you, I won't hearken to your dreams, Miss Catherine. I'll go to bed. I interrupt it again. She laughed and held me down, for I made a motion to leave my chair. This is nothing, cried she. I was only going to say that heaven did not seem to be my home, and I broke my heart with weeping to come back to earth, and the angels were so angry that they flung me out into the middle of the heath on the top of Wuthering Heights, where I walked sobbing for joy. That will do to explain my secret as well as the other. I have no more business to marry Ed Gilinton than I have to be in heaven, and if the wicked man in there had not brought his cliff so low, I shouldn't have thought of it. It would degrade me to marry his cliff now. So he shall never know how I love him, and that not because he's handsome nearly, but because he's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same, and Linton's is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire. ere this speech ended, I became sensible of Heathcliff's presence. Having noticed a slight movement, I turned my head and saw him rise from the bench and steal out noiselessly. He had listened till he heard Catherine say it would degrade her to marry him, and then he stayed to hear no further. My companion sitting on the ground was prevented by the back of the settle from remarking his presence or departure, but I started and bade her hush. Why? she asked, gazing nervously round. Joseph is here, I answered, catching opportunally the roll of his cartwheels up the road, and Heathcliff will come in with him. I'm not sure whether he were not at the door this moment. Oh, he couldn't overhear me at the door, said she. Give me her, and while you get the supper, and when it is ready, ask me to suck with you. I want to cheat my uncomfortable conscience, and be convinced that Heathcliff has no notion of these things. He has not, has he? He does not know what being in love is. I see no reason that he should not know as well as you, I returned, and if you are his choice, he'll be the most unfortunate creature that ever was born. As soon as you become Mrs. Linton, he loses friend and love and all. Have you considered how you'll bear the separation, and how you'll bear to be quite deserted in the world? Because Miss Catherine, he quite deserted. We separated, she exclaimed, with an accent of indignation. Who is to separate us, pray? They'll meet the fate of Milo, not as long as I live, Alan, for no mortal creature. Every Linton on the face of the earth might melt into nothing before I could consent to forsake Heathcliff. Oh, that's not what I intend, that's not what I mean. I shouldn't be Mrs. Linton, where such a price demanded. He'll be as much to me as he has been all his lifetime. Edgar must shake off his antipathy, and tolerate him at least. He will, when he learns my true feelings towards him. Nelly, I see now you think me a selfish retch, but did it never strike you that if Heathcliff and I married, we should be beggars. Whereas, if I marry Linton, I can aid Heathcliff to rise, and place him out of my brother's power. With your husband's money, Miss Catherine, I asked, you'll find him not so pliable as you calculate upon, and though I'm hardly a judge, I think that's the worst motive you've given yet for being the wife of young Linton. It is not, retorted she. It is the best. The others were the satisfaction of my whims, and for Edgar's sake too, to satisfy him. This is for the sake of one who comprehends in his person my feelings to Edgar and myself. I cannot express it, but surely you and everybody have a notion that there is, or should be, an existence of yours beyond you. What were the use of my creation, if I were entirely contained here? My great miseries in this world have been Heathcliff's miseries, and I watched and felt each from the beginning. My great thought in living is himself. If all else perished and he remained, I should still continue to be. And if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would turn to a mighty stranger. I should not seem a part of it. My love for Linton is like the foliage in the woods. Time will change it, I'm well aware, as winter changes the trees. My love for Heathcliff resembles the eternal rocks beneath, a source of little visible delight, but necessary. Nellie, I am Heathcliff. He's always, always in my mind. Not as a pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own being. So don't talk about separation again, it is impracticable and— She paused, and hid her face in the folds of my gown, but I jerked it forcibly away. I was out of patience with her folly. If I can make any sense of your nonsense, miss, I said. It only goes to convince me that you are ignorant of the duties you undertake in marrying, or else that you are a wicked unprincipled girl. But trouble me with no more secrets, I'll not promise to keep them. You'll keep that! she asked eagerly. No, I'll not promise, I repeated. She was about to insist, when the entrance of Joseph finished our conversation, and Catherine removed her seat to a corner, and nursed Herton while I made the supper. After it was cooked, my fellow servant and I began to quarrel who should carry some to Mr. Hindley, and we didn't settle it till all was nearly cold. Then we came to the agreement that we would let him ask, if he wanted any, for we feared particularly to go into his presence when he had been some time alone. And how is it that now come in from the field by this time? What's he about? Get idle, seat! demanded the old man, looking round for Heathcliff. I'll call him, I replied. He's in the barn, I've no doubt. I went and called, but got no answer. On returning I whispered to Catherine that he had heard a good part of what she said, I was sure, and told how I saw him quit the kitchen, just as she complained of her brother's conduct regarding him. She jumped up in a fine fright, flung Herton onto the settle, and ran to seek for her friend herself, not taking leisure to consider why she was so flurried, or how her talk would have affected him. She was absent such a while that Joseph proposed we should wait no longer. He cunningly conjectured there was staying away in order to avoid hearing his protracted blessing. There were ill enough for any foul manners, he affirmed. And on their behalf he added that night a special prayer to the usual quarter of an hour's supplication before meat, and would have tacked another to the end of the grace, had not his young mistress broken in upon him with a hurried command that he must run down the road, and wherever Heathcliff had rambled, find and make him re-enter directly. I want to speak to him, and I must before I go upstairs," she said, and the gate is open, he is somewhere out of hearing, for he would not reply, though I shouted at the top of the fold as loud as I could. Joseph objected at first. She was too much in earnest, however, to suffer contradiction, and at last he placed his hat on his head, and walked grumbling forth. Meantime Catherine paced up and down the floor, exclaiming, I wonder where he is? I wonder where he can be? What did I say, Nellie? I've forgotten. Was he vexed at my bad humour this afternoon? Dear, tell me what I've said to grieve him. I do wish he'd come. I do wish he would. What a noise for nothing! I cried, though rather uneasy myself. What a trifle scares you! It's surely no great cause of alarm that Heathcliff should take a moonlight saunter on the moors, or even lie too sulky to speak to us in the hayloft. I'll engage his lurking there, see if I don't ferret him out. I departed to renew my search. Its result was disappointment, and Joseph's quest ended in the same. Yon lad gets war and war. Observed he, Yon re-entering, is left the gate at full swing, and Mrs. Pony has trodden down two rigs of corn, and plotted through, right o'er into meadow. Ah, some diva de maestro, pled devil to mourn, and he'll do well. His patience it sell, no, with such careless off-out craters. Patience it sell, no, he is. But he'll not be so, Alice. Yes, see all on you. Yeah, I wouldn't drive him out of his head for now. Have you found Heathcliff, you ass? Interrupted Catherine. Have you been looking for him, as I ordered? I said more like a look for at horse. He replied. It had beat him all sense. But I can look for no other horse, nor a man of a need like this. It was black as chimney. On Heathcliff's known chap to come at my whistle. Happen he'll be less hard-earing with ye. It was a very dark evening for summer. The clouds appeared inclined to sunder, and I said we'd better all sit down. The approaching rain would be certain to bring him home without further trouble. However Catherine would not be persuaded into tranquility. She kept wandering to and fro from the gate to the door, in a state of agitation which permitted no repose. And at length took up a permanent situation on one side of the wall near the road, where, heedless of my expostulations and the growling thunder, and the great drops that began to plash around her, she remained, calling at intervals, and then listening, and then crying outright. She beat Ayrton or any child at a good passionate fit of crying. About midnight, while we still sat up, the storm came rattling over the heights in full fury. There was a violent wind as well as thunder, and either one or the other split a tree off at the corner of the building. A huge bow fell across the roof, and knocked down a portion of the east chimney stack, sending a clatter of stones and soot into the kitchen fire. We thought a bolt had fallen in the middle of us, and Joseph swung on to his knees, beseeching the Lord to remember the patriarch's noor and lot, and as in former times spare the righteous, though he smote the ungodly. I felt some sentiment that it must be a judgment on us also. The joner in my mind was Mr. Earnshaw, and I shook the handle of his den that I might ascertain if he were yet living. He replied audibly enough, in a fashion which made my companion vociferate more clamorously than before, that a wide distinction might be drawn between saints like himself and sinners like his master. But the uproar passed away in twenty minutes, leaving us all unharmed, excepting Cathy, who got thoroughly drenched for her obstinacy in refusing to take shelter, and standing bonnetless and shoreless to catch as much water as she could with her hair and clothes. She came in and lay down on the settle all soaked as she was, turning her face to the back, and putting her hands before it. Well, miss, I exclaimed, touching her shoulder, you are not bent on getting your death, are you? Do you know what a clock it is? Half past twelve. Come, come to bed. There's no use waiting any longer on that foolish boy. He'll be gone to Gimmeton, and he'll stay there now. He guesses we shouldn't wait for him till this late hour. At least, he guesses that only Mr. Hindley would be up, and he'd rather avoid having the door opened by the master. Nay, nay, he's known at Gimmeton, said Joseph. I's never wondered but he's at the bottom of buck oil. This visitation won't for now, and I would have you to look out, miss. Yarm of beat next. Thank heaven for all. All walks together for good to them as his chosen, and picked out from the rubbish. Yeah, I know what the scripture says. And he began quoting several texts, referring us to chapters and verses where we might find them. I, having vainly begged the willful girl to rise and remove her wet things, left him preaching and her shivering, and betook myself to bed with little Herton, who slept as fast as if everyone had been sleeping round him. I heard Joseph read on a while afterwards, then I distinguished his slow step on the ladder, and then I dropped asleep. Coming down somewhat later than usual, I saw, by the sunbeams piercing the chinks of the shutters, Miss Catherine still seated near the fireplace. The house door was a jar too, light entered from its unclosed windows. Hindley had come out and stood on the kitchen half, haggard and drowsy. What ails you, Cathy, it was saying when I entered. You look as dismal as a drowned welp. Why are you so damp and pale, child? I've been wet, she answered reluctantly. And I'm cold, that's all. Oh, she is naughty! I cried, perceiving the master to be tolerably sober. She got steeped in the shower of yesterday evening, and there she has sat the night through, and I couldn't prevail on her to stir. Mr. Earnshaw stared at us in surprise. The night through, he repeated. What kept her up? Not fear of the thunder, surely. That was over hours since. Neither of us wished to mention Heathcliff's absence as long as we could conceal it. So I replied, I didn't know how she took it into her head to sit up, and she said nothing. The morning was fresh and cool. I threw back the lattice, and presently the room filled with sweet scents from the garden. But Catherine called peevishly to me, Ellen, shut the window, I'm starving! And her teeth chattered, as she shrank closer to the almost extinguished embers. She's ill, said Hindley, taking her wrist. I suppose that's the reason she would not go to bed. Damn it! I don't want to be troubled with more sickness here. What took you into the rain? Running after lads, as usual, croaked Joseph, catching an opportunity from our hesitation to thrust in his evil tongue. If I were your master, I'd just slant boards in the faces, all on them gentle and simple. Never a day you're off, but young Catherine didn't come sneaking either. And Miss Nellie, shoes a fine lass, shows it's watching for you in the kitchen. And as you're in at one door, he's out at Tother. And then where Grand Lady goes a court on the other side, is Bonnie, babe. You're lurking among fields at a twelve at night, with that foul fleece and devil of a gypsy's cliff. They think I'm blind, but I'm known. Not at all. I see young Linton both coming and going. And I see Ja. Directing his discourse to me. Ja, good for now, slatner witch, nip up and bought into house, but minute Ja took Master's horse fit, clatter up road. Silence thieves dropper! cried Catherine. None of your insolence before me. Edgar Linton came yesterday by chance, Hindley. And it was I who told him to be off, because I knew you would not like to have met him as you were. You lie, Catherine, no doubt. Answered her brother. And you were a confounded simpleton. But never mind, Linton, at present. Tell me, were you not with Heathcliff last night? Speak the truth now. You need not be afraid of harming him. Though I hate him as much as ever, it did me a good turn a short time since. That will make my conscience tender of breaking his neck. To prevent it, I shall send him about his business this very morning. And after he's gone, I'd advise you all to look sharp. I shall only have the more humour for you. I never saw Heathcliff last night. Answered Catherine, beginning to sob bitterly. And if you do turn him out of doors, I'll go with him. But perhaps you'll never have an opportunity. Perhaps he's gone. Here she burst into uncontrollable grief, and the remainder of her words were inarticulate. Hindley lavished on her retorrent of scornful abuse, and battered to get to her room immediately, or she shouldn't cry for nothing. I obliged her to obey, and I shall never forget what a scene she acted when we reached her chamber. It terrified me. I thought she was going mad, and I begged Joseph to run for the doctor. It proved the commencement of delirium. Mr. Kenneth, as soon as he saw her, pronounced her dangerously ill. She had a fever. He bled her, and he told me to let her live on whey and water-gruel, and take care she did not throw herself downstairs or out of the window. And then he left, for he had enough to do in the parish, where two or three miles was the ordinary distance between cottage and cottage. Though I cannot say I made a gentle nurse, and Joseph and the master were no better, and though our patient was as wearisome and headstrong as a patient could be, she weathered it through. Old Mrs. Linton paid us several visits to be sure, and set things to rights, and scolded and ordered us all. And when Catherine was convalescent, she insisted on conveying her to Thrushcross Grange, for which deliverance we were very grateful. But the poor dame had reason to repent of her kindness. She and her husband both took the fever, and died within a few days of each other. Our young lady returned to a sorcerer and more passionate, and haughtier than ever. Heathcliff had never been heard of since the evening of the thunderstorm, and one day I had the misfortune when she had provoked me exceedingly to lay the blame of his disappearance on her, where indeed it belonged as she well knew. From that period for several months, she ceased to hold any communication with me, save in the relation of a mere servant. Joseph fell under a ban also, he would speak his mind, and lecture her all the same as if she were a little girl. And she esteemed herself a woman and our mistress, and thought that her recent illness gave her a claim to be treated with consideration. Then the doctor had said that she would not bear crossing much, she ought to have her own way, and it was nothing less than murder in her eyes for anyone to presume to stand up and contradict her. From Mr. Earnshaw and his companions she kept aloof, and tutored by Kenneth, and serious threats of a fit that often attended her rages, her brother allowed her whatever she pleased to demand, and generally avoided aggravating her fiery temper. It was rather too indulgent in humoring her caprices, not from affection, but from pride. He wished earnestly to see her bring honour to the family by an alliance with the Lintons, and as long as she let him alone she might trample on us like slaves for all he cared. Edgar Linton, as multitudes have been before and will be after him, was infatuated, and believed himself the happiest man alive on the day he led her to Gimmarton Chapel, three years subsequent to his father's death. Much against my inclination I was persuaded to leave Withering Heights, and accompany her here. Little Herton was nearly five years old, and I had just begun to teach him his letters. We made a sad parting, but Catherine's tears were more powerful than ours. When I refused to go, and when she found her entreaties did not move me, she went lamenting to her husband and brother. The former offered me munificent wages. The latter ordered me to pack up. He wanted no women in the house, he said, now that there was no mistress. And as to Herton, the cure-it should take him in hand by and by. And so I had but one choice left, to do as I was ordered. I told the master he got rid of all decent people, only to run to ruin a little faster. I kissed Herton, said goodbye, and since then he has been a stranger. And it's very queer to think it, but I've no doubt he has completely forgotten all about Ellen Dean, and that he was ever more than all the world to her, and she to him. At this point of the housekeeper's story, she chanced to glance towards the timepiece over the chimney, and was in amazement on seeing the minute hand measure half past one. She would not hear of staying a second longer. In truth I felt rather disposed to defer the sequel of her narrative myself. And now that she has vanished to her rest, and I have meditated for another hour or two, I shall summon courage to go also, in spite of aching laziness of head and limbs.