 CHAPTER 7 Kathy's stayed at Thresh Cross Grange five weeks till Christmas. By that time her ankle was thoroughly 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, hatless little savage jumping into the house and rushing to squeeze us all breathless, there lighted from a 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 the horse, exclaiming delightedly, "'Why, Kathy, 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 some 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 skulk behind the settle, unbeholding such a bright, graceful damsel inner the house, instead of a rough-headed counterpart of himself as he expected. As 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. Heinley, enjoying his discompature, and gratified to see what a forbidding young blackguard 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 cheeks within the second, and then stopped, and drawing back burst into a laugh, exclaiming, Why, how very black and cross you look! And how funny 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 were 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. With 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 how her 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 Joseph'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 Missy's attention by sundry gay trifles brought for her to present to the little Lintons as an acknowledgment of their kindness. They had invited them to spend the morrow at weathering 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 mugs ranged on a tray ready to be filled with mauled ale for supper, and above all the speckless purity of my particular care, the scoured and well-swept 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 can't last, 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, that 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. May case, Heathcliff, I said, the kitchen is so comfortable, and Joseph is upstairs. May case, and let me dress you smart before Miss Kathy comes out, and then you can sit together, with the whole hearth 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 donning. I waited five minutes, but getting no answer left him. Catherine subbed 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 dumb and dour to his chamber. Kathy 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 on to 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, Nellie, 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, my daresay. 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, you are taller, and twice as broad across the shoulders. You could knock him down in a twinkling. Don't you feel that you could? Heathcliffe'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 from a mod every turn, I added, and trembled if a country lad heaved his fist against you, and sat at home all day for a shower of rain. O Heathcliffe, 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, who never open their windows boldly, but lurk glinting under them like the 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 are not sure of foes. Don't get the expression of a vicious cur that appears to know the kicks it gets are its dessert, and yet hates 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 sulking, 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, weathering heights and thrush cross-grains together. And you were kidnapped by wicked sailors and brought to England, where 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 oppression of a little farmer. So I chattered on, and Heathcliff 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 Lintons to send from the family carriage, smothered in cloaks and furs, and the urnshawe's dismount from their horses. They often rode to church in the 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, highly 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 obeyed 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'll touch nothing, not he, and I suppose he must have his share of the dainties, as well as we. He shall have his share of my hand if I catch him downstairs till dark, cried Hindley. Begone, you vagabond! What! You are attempting the coxcomb, aren't you? Wait till I get a hold of those elegant locks. See if I don't pull them a bit longer. They are long enough already, observed Master Linton, peeping from the doorway. I wonder they don't make his headache. It's like a colt's mane over his eyes. He ventured this remark without any intention to insult, but Heathcliff'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 terrine of hot applesauce, 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 Edgar's nose and mouth, affirming it served him right for meddling. His sister began weeping to go home, and Kathy stood by confounded, blushing for all. You should not have spoken to him, she expostulated with Master Linton. He was in a bad temper, and 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 sub the youth, escaping from my hands, and finishing the remainder of the purification, with his cambrick-pocket handkerchief. I promised Mamaw 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. Hush, Isabella, has anybody hurt you? There, there, children, to your seats, cried Hindley, bustling in. That brute of a lad has warned 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 the 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 in an indifferent air commenced 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 fleshed, 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 for long, for I perceived she was in a purgatory throughout the day, and worrying to find an opportunity of getting by herself, or paying a visit to Heathcliff, who had been locked up by the master as I discovered on endeavouring to introduce him to a private mess of victuals. In the evening we had a dance. Kathy begged that he might be liberated then, as Isabella Linton had no partner. Her entries were in 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 viol beside 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 her 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 and molested, 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 utmost difficulty that 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 a neighbor's, to be removed from the sound of our devil's psalmody, 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. Henley, that once. He went down. I set him a stool 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 leaped 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 highly 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 shame, 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 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. Said 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. That'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. Oh, I hope not, sir. Well, you must allow me to leap over some three years. During that space, Mrs. Earnshaw— No, no, I'll allow nothing of the sort. Are you acquainted with the mood of mind in which, if you are seated alone, and the cat looking its kitten on the rug before you, you would watch the operation so intently that poses a neglect if one ear would put you seriously out of temper? A terribly lazy mood, I should say. On the contrary, a tiresomely 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 fixid 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 up 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, affecting 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 esteemed 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 also, unless it be that range of Greek and Latin, and that of French and those I know when 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 had 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 23 years ago. CHAPTER VIII OF WATHERING HEIGHTS This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. Recording by Christopher Turtle. Wathering Heights by Emily Bronte. CHAPTER VIII On the morning of a fine June day, my first bonny little nurseling and the last of the ancient Earnshaw 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. Inley. And now she has nothing to keep her and shall be dead before winter. You must come on 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 is 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 man. She's out of her head for joy. It's 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, Earnshaw, it's a blessing your wife has been spared to leave you this son. When she came I felt convinced we shouldn't keep along, 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, and besides you should've 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 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. And 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 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, I hardly spoke a word, Alan, 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! To within a week of her death that gay heart never failed her, and her husband persisted doggedly, nefariously, and affirming her health improved every day. When Kenneth warned him that his medicines were useless at that stage of the melody, 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 the 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 her two hands about his neck. Her face changed, and she was dead. As the girl had anticipated, the child, Herton, 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, executed 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 had been his foster-sister, and excused his behaviour more readily than the stranger would. Joseph remained a hectare over tenants and labourers, and because it was his vocation to be wary, 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 were 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 aftow or 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 the queen of the countryside. She had no peer, and she did turn out a haughty headstrong creature. I own her, 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 me, though. 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 the 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 marvelled much how he, with a mind to correspond with his person, could fancy my idea of Catherine Earnshaw. A very agreeable portrait, I observed the housekeeper. Is it like? Yes, she answered, but he looked better when he was animated. That is his everyday accountant. He wanted spirit in general. Catherine had kept up her acquaintance with the Linton since her five weeks residents among them, and she had no temptation to show her rough side in their company, and had the sense to be ashamed of being rude, where she experienced such invariable courtesy. She imposed unwittingly on the old lady and gentleman by 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 Heathcliff termed her 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 restrain an unruly nature where it would bring her neither credit nor praise. Mr. Edgar seldom must have 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 the best attempt at civility. The master himself avoided offending him, knowing why he came, and if he could not be gracious kept out of the way. Our other thing as appearance there was distasteful to Catherine. She was not artful, never playing the cocket, and evidently had an objection to her two friends meeting at all. For when Heathcliff 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 Heathcliff, she dared not treat his sentiments with indifference, as if depreciation of her playmate were scarcely any consequence to her. I have 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 distressors, till she should be chastened into more humility. She did bring herself finally to confess, and to confide in me, though it was not a soul else that she might fashion into an advisor. Mr. Hindley had gone home one afternoon, and Heathcliff presumed to give him a holiday on the strength of it. He had reached the age of sixteen then, I think, and without having bad features or being deficient in intellect, he can try to convey an impression of inward and outward repulsiveness that his present aspect retained 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, and stilled into him by the favours of old Mr. Earnshaw, was faded away. He struggled long to keep up an 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 sympathized with mental deterioration. He acquired a slouching gait and ignoble look. His naturally reserved disposition was exaggerated into an almost idiotic excess of unsociable morose-ness, and he took a grim pleasure, apparently, in exciting the aversion rather than the esteem of his few acquaintances. 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 address. She would not reckon 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, past Heathcliff? 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 fields now, Heathcliff. It is now past dinnertime. I thought you were gone. Hindley 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 crags. It will take until 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 run the risk of being scolded for no good. Order Ellen to say you are engaged, Cathy, he persisted. Don't turn me out to 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 head quite out of curl. That's enough. Leave me alone. What are you on the point of complaining about Heathcliff? Nothing. Only look at the almanac on the wall. He pointed to a framed sheet hanging near the window and continued. The crosses of the evening as you have 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 she'd 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'm 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 of the dresser. No, answered Catherine. What are you doing there, Nelly? My work, Miss, I replied. Mr. Indley 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, for 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. Edgle 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'd 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 Edgle could not see her, snatched the cloth from my hand and pinched me with 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 nip 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 a 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, was sitting near me on the floor, at seeing my tears commenced crying himself, and sobbed out complaints against wicked Aunt Cathy, which drew a fury onto his unlucky head. She seized his shoulders and shook him till the poor child whacked livid. And Edgar thoughtlessly laid hold of her hands to deliver him. In an instant one was wrong-free, and the astonished young man felt it apply to 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 communications open, for I was curious to watch how they would settle their disagreement. The insulted visitor moved to the spot where he laid his hat, 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 such a deliberate untruth, he said. I didn't, she cried, recovering her speech. I did nothing deliberately. Well, go, if you please, get away! And now I'll cry. I'll cry myself sick. She dropped down on her knees by a chair, and set to weeping and 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 grievous. 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. As 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 her ears, his ordinary frame of mind in that condition, I saw the crawl had merely affected a closer intimacy, had broken the outworks of youthful 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 Hatton, 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 of Wuthering Heights Chapter 9 He entered, vociferating oaths dreadful to ear, and caught me in the act of stowing his sun away in the kitchen cupboard. Ayrton was impressed with an awesome 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 out at last, cried Indley, pulling me back by the skin of my neck like a dog. Thy heaven and hell, you have 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 the carving-knife, Nelly. You needn't laugh, for I've just crammed Kenneth head down most in the 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. Indley, I answered. It has been cutting red herrings. I'd rather be shot, if you please. You'd rather be damned, he said, and so you shall. No law in England can hinder a man from keeping his house decent, and minds 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. No, said he, releasing me. I see that hideous little villain is not Herton. I beg your pardon now. If it be, he deserves flaying a lie for not running to welcome me, and for screaming as if I were a goblin. Unnatural cub! 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, it's a vernal affectation. Devilish conceit it is to cherish our ears, where ass is enough without them. Hush, child, hush! Well, then it is, my darling. Wished, dry thy eyes. There's a joy. Kiss me. What? It won't? Kiss me, Herton. Damn thee, 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 ran to rescue him. As I reached them, Indley lent forward on the rails to listen to a noise below, almost forgetting what he had in his hands. Who is that? he asked, hearing someone approaching the stairs' foot. I lent forward also for the purpose of signing to Eathcliff, whose step I recognised, not to come further, and, at the instant when my eye quitted Herton, he 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. Eathcliff 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. Amizo was parted with a lucky lottery ticket for five shillings, and finds next day he is lost in the bargain five thousand pounds, could not show a blank accountance than he did on beholding the figure of Mr. Earnshaw above. It's 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 daresay would have tried to remedy the mistake by smashing Eathcliff's skull on the steps. But we witnessed his salvation, and I was presently below with my precious charge pressed to my heart. Indley descended more leisurely, sobered and abashed. 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 an Ethan, treating your own flesh and blood in that manner. He attempted to touch the child. Oh, on finding himself with me, sobbed off his terror directly. At 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. An happy family you should 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 and him away, and hark you, Eathcliff. Clear you too quite 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 saying this, he took a pint bottle of brandy from the dresser, and poured someone to a tumbler. Nay, don't, I entreated. Mr. Indley 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, endeavoring 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, exclaimed the blasphemer. Here's to its hearty 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 Eathcliff, muttering an echo of curses back when the door was shut. He's doing his very utmost, but his constitution defies him. Mr. Kenneth says he would wager his mare that he'll outlive any man on this side guimerton, and go to the grave a hoary sinner, unless some happy chance out of the common course befall him. I went into the kitchen and sat down to lull my little lamb to sleep. Eathcliff, as I thought, walked through to the barn. It turned out afterwards as he only got as far as he'll aside the saddle, when he flung himself on a bench by the wall, removed from the fire, and remained silent. I was rocking out and on my knee, and oming a song that began. It was far in the night, and the bear knees grat, the mither beneath the mules erred that. When Miss Cathy would listen to the oboe from her room, put her head in and whispered, Are you alone, Nelly? Yes, Miss, I replied. She entered and approached the arth. 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 Heathcliff? she said, interrupting me. About his work in the stable was my answer. He did not contradict me. Perhaps he had fallen into a doze. 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 a 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. Nellie, 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 sulkily? 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 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 be wise to refuse him. Since he asked you after that, you 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 Cathy? Nonsense, 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 neighborhood, 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 under 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? Why? Nay, you're just 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 you were ugly and a clown. But there are several other handsome, rich, young men in the world. Handsome are possibly, and richer than he is. What should in do you from loving them? If there be any, they are out of my way. I've seen none like Edgar. You may see some, and you won't always be handsome, and young, and may not always be rich. He is now, and I only have to do with the present. I wish you would speak rationally. Well, that settles it. If you only have 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 arm 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 end on our forehead and the other on our 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 can't 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, a countenance grew sadder and graver, and her class bands trembled. Nelly. Do you never dream queer dreams, she said suddenly, after some minute's 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, though 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 cundering up ghosts and visions to perplex us. Come, come, be merry and like yourself. Look at little Ayrton. 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 as another as that chubby thing, nearly as young and innocent. However, Nelly, I shall oblige you to listen. It's not long, and I've no power to be merry tonight. I won't hear it, I won't hear it, I repeated hastily. I was superstitious about dreams then, and I'm still, and Catherine had an unusual gloom in her aspect that made me dread something from which I might shape a prophecy and foresee a fearful catastrophe. She was vexed, but she did not proceed. Apparently taking up another subject, she recommended in a short time. If I were in heaven, Nelly, I should be extremely miserable. Because you're 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 arc into ear your dreams, Miss Catherine. I'll go to bed, I interrupted 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 top of weathering heights, where I woke sobbing for joy. That will do to explain my secret as well as the other. I've no more business to marry Edgar Linton than I have to be in heaven, and if the wicked man in there had not brought Heathcliff so low, I shouldn't have thought of it. It would degrade me to marry Heathcliff now, so he shall never know how I love him, and that— not because he's handsome, Nelly, 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. Here 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'd listened till he heard Catherine say it would degrade her to marry him, and he stayed to ear no further. My companion, sitting on the ground, was prevented by the back of the settle from remarking his presence o' departure, but I started, and bade her oosh. Why? she asked, gazing nervously round. Joseph his ear, I answered, catching opportunally the roll of his cart-wheels up the road, and Heathcliff will come in with him. I'm not sure whether he were not at the door at this moment. Oh! he could overhear me at the door, said she. Give me Herton while you get the supper, and when it is ready, ask me to sup 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 was ever born. As soon as you become Mrs. Linton, he loses friend and love and all. Have you considered I will bear the separation, and I will 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? Don't 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 were 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 now see you think me a selfish wretch, but did it ever strike you that if Heathcliff and I married we should be beggars, whereas if I marry Linton and 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 yet given 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 if 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. Nelly, 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 of our separation again. It is impracticable, and— She paused, and hid her face in the folds of my gown. 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, a nursed airton, while I made the supper. After it was cooked, my fellow servant and I began to quarrel who should carry some to Mr. Indley, 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 unto his presence, when he had been some time alone. And I was at that note coming field by this time. What is he about? Gert Erdall's suit. 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 Erton on the settle, and ran to seek for a friend herself, not taking leisure to consider why she was so flurried, or her talk would have affected him. She was absent such a while that Joseph proposed we should wait no longer. He cunningly conjected. They were staying away in order to avoid hearing his protracted blessing. They 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, ad not his young mistress broken in upon him with an oried 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 an 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 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, the rather uneasy myself. What a trifle scares you, and 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 aloft. 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. Yondlad gets boar and boar, observed he on re-entering. He's left gate at full swing, and Mrs. Boney is trodden down till rigs are gone, and plotted through, right o'er into meadow. And some diver to mess up late at devil to mourn, and he'll do well. His patience itself was such careless, awful crater's patience itself he is. But if not be so, Alice, you'll see on all ye. You might dream out was Ed for note. Have you found Heathcliff, you ass! interrupted Catherine. Have you been looking for him, as I ordered? I said, most like a look for the horse! he replied. It would be more sense, but I can look for no the horse, no man, and eat like this, as black as jimbly. On Heathcliff's nant, chapped a gum at my whistle, it'll be less hard hearing were ye. It was a very dark evening for summer. The clouds appeared inclined to thunder, and I said we had better all sit down. The approaching rain would be certain to bring him home without further trouble. However, Catherine would not be persuaded into tranquillity. 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 wall, near the road, where, heedless of my expostulations and the growling thunder, and the great drops that began to splash around her, she remained, calling at intervals, and then listening, and then crying outright. She'd 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 ights 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 sot 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 know-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 Jonah, 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 unarmed, except in 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 air and clothes. She came in and lay down on the saddle, all soaked as she was, turning her face to the back, and pulling 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 Gimmerton, 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. Indley will be up, and he'd rather avoid having the door open by the master. No, no, he's known at Gimmerton, said Joseph. I's never wonder, but he's at the bottom of a bottle. This visitation won't run out, and I would have you look out, miss. You might be next. Thank even for all. All works together for good as them is chosen, and picked out from rubbish. You know what Stripcher 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 Ayrton, 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 late than usual, I saw by the sunbeams piercing the chinks of the shutters, Miss Catherine still seated by the fireplace. The house door was ajar, too. Light entered from its unclosed windows. Ethgliff had come out, and stood on the kitchen-arth, aggored and drowsy. What ails are you, Kathy? He 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 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 Ethgliff'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, so 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 Indley, taking a 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 you, master, I'd just slant bores in faces on all of them, gentle and simple. Never a day you're off, but young Catterlinton comes sneaking either. I miss Nellie, she's a fine lass. She wits watching for your kitchen, as you're at one door, he's out another. And then, where Grand Lady goes a caughting of her side, it's Bonnie Biavia lurking among fields after twelve at night, where that failed fledd and some devil of a gypsy ecliff. They think I'm blind, but I'm not. Now that's sort. I see young Blinton both coming and going, and I see you. Directing his discourse to me. You're good for notes, slightly witch. Nip open bolt-house to minute your master's arse fit glatter up road. Silence, eavesdropper! 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, Cathy, no doubt, answered her brother, and you are 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. He 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 a torrent of scornful abuse, and Bader 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 way 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 edstrong 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 thrush cross-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 us sarsier and more passionate, and aughtier than ever. Ethcliffe 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 child, 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. For 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. He 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 or ought to be cared. Ed Galinton, 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 Wuthering Heights in a company area. Little Ayrton 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 woman in the house, he said, now that there was no mistress, and as to Ayrton, the curate should take him an 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 Ayrton, 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 Elindine, 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. by Emily Bronte. Chapter 10. A charming introduction to a Hermit's life. Four weeks torture, tossing, and sickness. Oh, these bleak winds and bitter northern skies, and impassable roads, and illiterate country surgeons, and oh, these duels of the human disease know me. And worse than all, the terrible intimation of Kenneth that I need not expect to be out of doors this spring. Mr. Heathcliff has just odded me with a call. About seven days ago, he sent me a brace of grouse. The last of the season. Scoundrel. He's not altogether in this illness of mine. And that I had a great mind to tell him. But alas, how could I offend a man who's charitable enough to sit at my bedside a good hour and talk on some other subject on pills and drafts, blisters and leeches? This is quite an easy interval. I am too weak to read. Yet I feel as if I could enjoy something interesting. We would have a Mrs. Dean to finish the tale. I can recollect its chief incidents as far as she had gone. Yes. I remember a hero had run off and never been heard of for three years. And the heroine was married. Irene shall be delighted to find me capable of talking cheerfully. Mrs. Dean came. It was 20 minutes, sir, to take the medicine, she commenced. Away, away with it, I replied. I desired to have the doctor says you must drop your powders. With all my heart. Don't interrupt me. Come and take a seat here. Give your fingers from that bitter phalanx of vials. Draw your knitting out of your pocket. That will do. Now continue the history of Mr. Heathcliff from where you left off to the present day. Did he finish his education on the continent and come back a gentleman? Or did he get a size of place at college or escape to America and earn honors by drawing blood from his foster country? Or make a fortune more promptly on the English highways? He may have done literally all these vocations, Mr. Lockwood. But I couldn't give my word for any. I stated before that I didn't know how he gained his money. Neither am I aware of the means he took to raise his mind from the savage ignorance into which it was sunk. But with your leave, I'll proceed in my own fashion if you think it's all amusing or to worry you. Are you feeling better this morning? Much. That's good news. I got Miss Catherine and myself to Thresh Cross Grains into my agreeable disappointment. She behaved infinitely better than I dared to expect. She seemed almost over thought of Mr. Linton, and even to his sister she showed plenty of affection. They were both very attentive to her comfort, certainly. It was not the thorn bending to the honeysuckles, but the honeysuckles embracing the thorn. There were no mutual concessions, ones to direct and the others yelling. And who can be all natured and bad tempered, when they encounter neither opposition nor indifference? I observed that Mr. Edgar had a deep-rooted fear of ruffling her humour. He concealed it from her, but if ever he heard me answer sharply, or saw any other servant grow cloudy at some imperious order of hers, he would show his trouble by a frown of displeasure that never darkened on his own account. He many a time spoke sternly to me about my pertness, and a word that this type of a knife could not inflict a worse pain than his suffer that seen his lady vexed. Not to grieve a kind master, I learned to be less touchy and for the space of half a year the gunpowder lies how Mrs. Sand, because no fire came near to explode it. Catherine had seasons of gloom and silence now and then. They were respected with sympathising silence by her husband, who scrubbed them to an alteration in her constitution produced by her perilous illness. As she was never subject to depression of spirits before, the return of sunshine was welcomed by answering sunshine from him, and believe me assert that were real in possession of deep and growing happiness. It ended well. We must be for ourselves in the long run. The mild and generous are only more justly selfish than the domineering, and it ended when circumstances caused each to feel that one's interest was not the chief consideration in the other's thoughts. On a mellow evening in September, I was coming from the garden with a heavy basket of apples, which I had been gathering. It had to go dusk, and the moon looked through the high wall of the court, causing undefined shadows to lurk in the corners of the numerous projecting portions of the building. I set my burden on the house steps by the kitchen door, and lingered to rest, and drew in a few more breaths of the soft sweet air. My eyes were on the moon, and my back to the entrance. When I heard a voice behind me say, Nelly, is that you? It was a deep voice, and foreign in tone, yet there was something in the manner of pronouncing my name which made it sound familiar. I turned about to discover Huspo fearfully, for the doors were shut, and I had seen nobody unimproaching the steps. Something stirred in the porch, and moving nearer, I distinguished a tall man, dressed in dark clothes, with dark face and hair. He leaned against the side, and held his fingers on the latch, as if intending to open for himself. Mr. Archer? Oh no, the voice has never silenced to his. I have waited here an hour, he resumed, while I continued staring, that the whole of that time, all round, has been a still as death. I dare not enter. He did not know me. Look, I'm not a stranger. Arraved beyond his features, the cheeks were shallow, and half covered in black whiskers. The brows lowering, the eyes deep-set and singular, I remember the eyes. What! I cried, and certain weather began he was a worldly visitor, and I raised my hands in amazement. What, you come back? Is it real you? Is it? Yes, his cliff replied, glancing from me up to the windows, which reflected a score of glittering moons, but showed no light from within. Are they at home, or is she? Then you're not glad. You needn't be disturbed. Is she here? Speak, I want to have a ride with her. You're mischievous. Go, and say some person from Gibbetton desires to see her. Take it, ace clan. What will she do? The surprise wills me to put her out of her hand, and you are his cliff, but altered. There, there's no company handing it. Have you been for a soldier? Go and carry my message, interrupted impatiently, and inhale till you do. He lived to the lads, and I entered, but when I got to the parlor, where Mr. and Mrs. Linton were, I could not persuade myself to proceed. At length, I resolved on making an excuse to ask if they would have the candles lighted, and I opened the door. They sat together in a window whose light slayed back against the wall, and splayed beyond the garden trees and the wild green park, the valley of Gibbetton, with a long line of mist winding nearly to the top, for very soon after you pass the chapel, as you may have noticed, but so that runs from the marshes during the back which follows the bend of the glen, where the ring hides a rose worth of celery vapor. But all old house was invisible. It rather dips down on the other side, both room and its occupants, and a scene, the gazing, looked wondrously peaceful. I shrank reluctantly from performing my errand, and was actually going away, leaving it unsaid, after having put my question about the candles, what a sense of my folly compelled me to return and met her. First thing from Gibbetton, we used to see you, ma'am. What does he want? asked Mrs. Linton. I did not question him, I answered. All the curses knell, he said, and bring up tea, and back again directly. She quitted the apartment. Mr. Radia inquired, carelessly, who it was. Some of the mistresses did not expect her applying, but his clefty recollects him, sir, who used to live at Mr. Earnshaw's. The tipsy, the plobar, he cried. Why didn't you not say so to Catherine? Ah, she must not call him by those names, master. I said, she'd be sadly grieved to hear you. She was nearly heartbroken when he ran off. I guess he returned real maker to believe her. Mr. Linton walked to a window on the other side of the room that overlooked the court. He unfastened it, and lent out. I suppose they were below, for he exclaimed quickly. Don't stand there, love. Bring the person in, if it be any one particular. Herelong I heard the clock of the latch, and Catherine flew upstairs, breathless and wild. Too excited to show glanness. Indeed, by her face you would rather have surmised an awful calamity. Oh, Edgar, Edgar, she panted, flinging around around his neck. Oh, Edgar, darling! Heathcliff's come back! He is! And she tightened her embrace to a squeeze. Well, well, credit has been grossly. Don't struggle me for that. He never struck me as such a marvelous treasure. There is no need to be frantic. I know he didn't like him, she answered, repressing a little the intensity of her delight, that for my sake he must be friends now. Shall I tell him to come up? Here, he said, into the parlour. For reals, she asked. He looked vexed and suggested the kitchen as a more suitable place for him. Mrs. Lynn denied him with a drawn expression. Have angry, have laughing, and his fastidiousness. No, she added after a while. I cannot sit in the kitchen. So two tables here, and one for you, master, and Mrs. Bella, being gentry, the other for Heathcliff and myself, being of the lower orders. Would that please you, dear? Or must I have a firelight elsewhere? If so, give directions. I'm undone and secure, I guess. I'm afraid the dry is too great to be real. She was about to die off again, but Edgar arrested her. You beat him step up, he said, addressing me, and got to be glad without being absurd. The whole household did not witness the sight of you welcoming a runaway servant as a brother. I descended and found Heathcliff waiting on the porch, evidently anticipating an invitation to enter. He followed my guidance, without waste of words, and I ushered him into the presence of the master and mistress, whose flush cheeks betrayed signs of warm talking. But the ladies glowed with another feeling when her friend appeared at the door. He sprang forward to both his hands and led him to Linton. Then she sees Linton's reluctant fingers and crushes me to his. Now fully revealed by the fire and candlelight, I was amazed, more than ever, to behold the transformation of Heathcliff. He had grown a tall, athletic, well-formed man. Beside whom, my master seemed quite slender and new-like. His upright courage suggested the idea of his having been in the army. His countenance was much older in expression and decision of features than Mr. Linton's. He looked intelligent and retained no marks or former degradation. A half-civilized, ferocity-loating, depressed, brosen eyes full of black fire. But it was subdued, and his manner was even dignified. Quite diverse in roughness, though too stern for grace. My master's surprise equaled or exceeded mine. He remained for a minute at the last how to address the blow-boy, as he had called him. Heathcliff dropped his slight hand, and, still looking at him, cooing, he chose to speak. The down-sir, he said along. Mrs. Linton, recalling old times, would have me give you a cordial reception, and, of course, I am gratified when anything occurs to please her. And I also answered Heathcliff, especially if it be anything which I have a part. I shall stay an hour or two willingly. He took a seat opposite Catherine, who kept her gaze fixed on him, as if she feared he would vanish where she would remove it. He did not raise his to her often. A quick glance now and then spiced. But it flashed back each time more confidently the undisguised delight he drank from hers. They were too much absorbed in the mutual joy to suffer embarrassment. Not so, Mr. Edgar. He grew pale with pure annoyance, a feeling which reached his climax when his lady rose, and, stepping across the rug, seized Heathcliff's hands again and laughed like wine beside herself. I shall think of a dream tomorrow, she cried. I shall not be able to believe that I have seen that and spoken to you once more. And yet, cruel Heathcliff, she don't deserve this welcome, to be absent and silent for three years, and never to think of me. A little more than you have thought of me, in murmured. And I heard of your marriage, Catherine, for a long since. And while waiting in the yard below, I meditated in his planned to have a glimpse of your face, a stare of surprise perhaps, and pretend of pleasure. After it settled my score with Hanley, and then, prevent the law by doing an execution on myself. You welcome has put easy ideas out of my mind, but beware of meeting me with another aspect next time. No, you'll not drive me up again. You were really sorry for me, were you? While it was cold, I forged through bitter life since I last heard your voice. But you must forgive me for I struggled only for you. Catherine, unless we ought to have cold tea, pleased to come to the table, interrupted Linton, striving to preserve his ordinary tone, and a new matter of politeness. Mr. Heathcliff will have a long walk, wherever he may lodge tonight, and I'm thirsty. She took her pose before the earth, and Mrs. Bella came, summoned by the bell, and having handed their chairs forward, I led the room. The meal, Hanley endured ten minutes. Catherine's cup was never filled, she could neither eat nor drink. Edgar had made a slap in his saucer, and scarcely swallowed a mouthful. There, Edgar did not protract his tail but evening above now, a long rest, as he parted if he went to give it time. No, to water in heights, he answered. Mr. Earnshaw invited me, and when I called this morning, Mr. Earnshaw invited me here, and he, called Mr. Earnshaw, I punished him as painfully as he was gone. They turned out a bit of a hype-crisis, coming into the country work with stiffeners or cloak. I'm yours. I had a presentment in the bottom of my heart, that he had better have remained away. About the middle of the night, I was wakened for my first nap by Mrs. Linton, gliding into my chamber, taking a seat in my bed, starting pulling me by the hair to rouse me. I cannot rest, and she said, but you have apology, and I want some living creature to keep me calm and in my happiness. Edgar was sulky, because I'm glad of a thing that doesn't interest him. He refused to open his mouth, except to outpatish silly speeches. And he affirmed I was cruel and selfish, for wishing to talk when he was so sick and sleepy. He always continues to be sick of the least cross. I gave a few sentences of commendation to Heathcliff, and he, either for a headache or a pack of envy, began to cry. So I got up and left him. What use is printing Heathcliff to him? I answered. As lads, they had an aversion to each other, and Heathcliff would hate that there's much to hear him praise. It's human nature. But Mr. Litton loaned about him, unless you would like an open quarrel between them. But that's not so great a weakness, but, you see, I'm just envious. I never feel hurt at the brightness of Isabella's yellow hair, and the whiteness of her skin, as her dainty elegance, and the funnest old family haggs a bit for her. Even you, Nellie, if we have a dispute sometimes, you pack Isabella at once. And I hear, like a foolish mother, I call her darling, and I flatter her into a good temper. It pleases her brother to see a score deal, and that pleases me. But they are very much alike. They spoil children, and fancy the world was made with a recommendation. And though they were human both, I think a smart retirement might improve them all the same. You're mistaken, Mrs. Linton, so I assume you. I know what it would be to deal with a denot. Then you can well forward to indulge the passing whims as long as the business is to anticipate all the desires. You may, however, fall out of the last over something of equal consequence to both sides. And then, those who turn moaning are very capable of being as obstinate as you. And then we shall fight to the death, Shandry Nellie should turn laughing. Now, I tell you, have such faith in Linton's love that I believe how I'd kill him. And he wouldn't wish to retell it. I advise her to value him more for his affection. I do, she answered, but in any resort, widening for trifles, it is childish. And instead of melding in tears, because I said that Heathcliff was now worthy of anyone's regard, and it would honor the first gentleman that counted to be his friend, he ought to have said it for me, and been delighted from sympathy. He must get accustomed to him, and he may as well like him, considering how Heathcliff has reason to object to him. I'm sure he behaved excellently. Which I think of he's going to both recognize, I inquire. It's reformed in every respect, apparently. Quite a question. Offering the right hand of fellowship to his enemies all around. He explained it, she replied. And what does matter to you? He said he called to gather information concerning me from you, supposing you resided there still. And Joseph, told Hanley, came out and fell to questioning him of what he had been doing, and how he had been living. And finally, desired him, desired him to walk in. There were some persons sitting at cars. Heathcliff joined him. My brother lost some money to him, and finding him plentifully supplied, he requested that he would come again in the evening. To which he consented. Hanley is too reckless to select his acquaintance to bring me. He doesn't trouble himself to reflect on the causes he might have from his judging one whom he has basely endured. But Heathcliff affirmed his principal reason for resuming a connection with his ancient persecutor, his wish to install himself in quarters at walking distance from the Grange, and an attachment to the house where we live together. And likewise, hope that I shall have more opportunities of seeing him here that I could have if he settled in Gimerton. He means too offer liberal payment for permission to lodge other hives. And doubtless, my brother's covenants will prompt him to accept the terms. He was always greedy, though would he grasp to one hand if he flings away with the other. It's a nice place for young man to fix his dwelling inside. Have you no fear of the consequences, Mrs. Linton? None for my French, replied. His strong hand will keep him from danger. A little for Hanley, but he can't be made morally worse than he is. And I stand between him and wouldn't be harmed. The event of this evening had reconciled me to God and humanity. I had reasons in anger rebellion against Providence. Oh, I've endured very, very bitter misery in Nellie. Is that creature new how bitter? He'd be ashamed to cloud its removal with idle petulance. It was kindness for him which induced me to bury it all alone. Had I expressed the agony I frequently felt, he would have been taught too long for its alleviation as ardently as I. However, it's over. Now I'll take no revenge on his falling. I can afford to suffer anything hereafter. Should the meanest thing alive slap me on the cheek and not only turn the other, but I'd ask pardon for provoking it. And as a proof, I'll go break my peace with Edgar instantly. Good night, I'm an angel. This self-complacent conviction she departed and the success of her fulfilled resolutions was so moral. Mr. Linton had not only abdued his peevishness, though his peers seemed still subdued by Catherine's exuberance of infesty. But he ventured no objection to her taking Isabella with her to Welling Heights in the afternoon. And she rewarded him with such a summer of sweetness and affection to return as made the House of Paradise for several days, both master and servant profiting from the perpetual sunshine. His cliff, Mr. His Cliff I should say in future, used the liberty of visiting Athrash cross-grained cautiously at first. He seemed estimating how far its owner would bear his intrusion. Catherine also judicious to moderate her expressions of pleasure in receiving him. He gradually established his right to be expected. He retained great deal of reserve for which his boyhood was remarkable and that served to repress all stumbling demonstrations of feeling. My master's uneasiness experienced a lull and further circumstances diverted into another channel for space. His new source of troubles sprang from the not-anticipated misfortune of Isabella Linton advancing a sudden and irresistible attraction towards the tolerated guest. She was at that time a charming young lady of 18. Infantile in manners, though possessed of keen wit, keen feeling, and a keen temper too if irritated. Her problem, who loved her tenderly, was appalled at his fantastic preference. Leaving aside the degradation of an alliance with a nameless man, and the possible fact that his property in default of ere's mail might pass into such a one's power, he had sense to comprehend easily this position, to know that, though his hysteria was altered, his mind was unchangeable and unchanged, and he dreaded that mind, it revolted him. He shrank forbodingly from the idea of committing Isabella's escaping. He would have recalled that Thiel Moore had been aware that her attachment rose unsolicited and once told where it awakened no reciprocation of sentiments. For the minute he discovered subsistence, he laid the blame on Heathcliff's deliberate designing. We had all remarked during some time that Ms. Linton fainted and pined over something. She grew cross and wearisome, snapping at and teasing Catherine continually of the enormous risk of exerting her limited patience. Wix used her to a certain extent on the plea of ill-health. She was dwindling and fading before our eyes. But one day, when she had been peculiarly wayward, rejecting her breakfast, complaining that the servants did not do what she told them, that the mistress of the lair had been nothing in their house, and Edkin neglected her, that she had gone cold with the doors being left open, and we let the pile of fire go out on purpose to vex her, with hundreds of more frivolous accusations. Ms. Linton apparently insisted that she should get to bed and having scolded her heartily, starting to send for the doctor. A mention of Kenneth caused her to exclaim instantly that her health was perfect and it would only Catherine's harshest, which made her unhappy. How can you say in harsh and no defunding? Quite the mistress amazed at the unrhythmal assertion. You are surely losing your reason when it haven't been harsh, tell me. Yesterday, sub Isabella, and now, yesterday, said her sister on our occasion. In our walk along the moor, you told me to ramble her up, please, while you salted on with Mr. Hiskley. And that's the notion of harshness that Catherine laughing. It was no hint that your company was superfluous. We didn't care whether you kept with us or not. I merely thought Hiskley's talk would have nothing entertaining for your ears. Oh no, whether young lady, you wished me away because you knew I'd like to be there. Is she sane? asked Mrs. Linton, appealing to me. I'll repeat our conversation word for word, Isabella, and you point out any charm it could have had for you. I don't mind the conversations, chances. I want you to bear with. Well? said Catherine, perceiving her hesitant to complete the sentence. With him. And I wouldn't be always sent off. She continued kindling up. You are a dog in the manger, Cathy, and desire no one to be loved but yourself. You are an impersonate little monkey, misclaiming Mrs. Linton in surprise. But I will not believe this idiocy. It is impossible that you could covet the admiration of Hiskley, that you consider him an agreeable person. I hope I have misunderstood you, Isabella. No, you have not, silly infatuated girl. I love him more than ever you loved Edgar. And he might love me if you would let him. I wouldn't be you for a kingdom then, Catherine declared emphatically. And she seemed to speak sincerely. Nellie, help me to convince her of her madness. Tell her what Hiskley's is, and I will reclaim the creature without refinement, without cultivation. And our brilliance of ferris and windstone, I will soon put a little Catherine into the park on a winter's day. I recommend you to bestow your heart on him. It is the plurable ignorance of his character, child, and nothing else which makes a dream enter your head. But I don't imagine that he conceals the depths of benevolence and affection beneath the stern exterior. He's not a rough diamond, a pearl containing oyster of rustic, he's a fierce, pitiless, warfish man. I never say to him, let this or that enemy alone, because it would be ungenerous or cruel to harm them. I say, let them alone, because I should hate them to be wronged. And he'd crush you like a spouse egg Isabella, if he found your troublesome child. And no, he couldn't love Linton. And yet, he'd be quite capable of marrying your fortunate expectations. I've arises growing with him of his sitting sin. This is my picture, and how much frame, so much so that hardly so seriously catch you. I should perhaps have held my tongue, and let you fall into his trap. Miss Linton regarded her sister in love with indignation. For shame, for shame, she repeated angrily. You are worse than plenty foes, you poisonous friend. You won't believe me then, said Catherine, who you think I speak from wicked selfishness. I'm certain you do, retorted Isabella, and I shudder at you. Good, cried the other, cry for yourself, would that be your spirit? I have done, and yield the argument you saucy insolence. And I must suffer for her egotism, she sobbed. I was missing an internet rule. Oh, oh, little girl's to me. She has blighted my single consolation. But she uttered falsehood, didn't she? Mr. Heathcliff is not a fiend. He has an honorable soul, and a true one. Oh, how could I remember her? Banished him from your throes, Miss, I said. He's a bird of bad omen, no maid for you. Mrs. Ninton spoke strongly, and yet I can't contradict her. She has better acquainted with his heart than I, or anyone besides. And she never would represent him as worse than he is. Honest people don't hide the teeth. How has he been living? How has he got rich? Why is he staying at Wuthering Heights, the house of a man whom you bore? They say Mr. Earnshaw is worse and worse since he came. Let's sit all night together continually, and honey has been borrowing money on his land, and there's nothing but play and drink. I heard only a week ago that there's Joseph who told me I met him at Giventon. Nelly, he said, with how crudest quest it now, at half-folks. One of them's most getting his finger cut off, with holding to the froes sitting here selling like a cove. That's maester, yet no. That's so up to going to trans sizes. His known feared advance of judges, no the poor, no Peter, no Joe, no Matthew, no the name nor he. His fear likes. He likes to set his brazen face against him. And young Bonnie let his place, if you mind. He's a rarer one. He can learn to laugh as well as not Bonnie at Ray's devil's desk. Doesn't even seem new to his fine living among us when he also's grange. This is 12th. Up at St. John. Dye his brandy clothes shutters, and cuddly to likes that I knew. Then full gangs, binding and raiding to his chamber, mucking dais and forks, dig their fingers to the likes for very shame. And the knave, where he can't get his brass, unate and sleep, not to his neighbors to gossip it wide. I calls, he tells them, casting how a father's gold rose into his pockets, and her father's son gulped down Blue Road, when he fled forth to open pikes. Now, Miss Linton, Joseph is no old rascal, but no liar. And if he's a kind of earflips, can't it be true? You wouldn't even think of desiring such a husband would you? And she applied. I not listen to your slanders, which malevolence you must have to wish to convince me that there is no happiness in the world. Whether she would have got over this fancy he fled to herself, or persevered in nursing it patchily, I cannot say. She had little time to reflect. The day after, there was a justice meeting at the next town. My master was obliged to attend, and Mr. Heathleaf, aware of his absence, called rather earlier than usual. Catherine de Isabella was sitting in the library on hostile terms, but silent. The letter alarmed at her recent indiscretion, and the disclosures she had made of her secret feelings in a transient field of passion. The foreman, on mature consideration, really offended with her companion, and as she laughed again in a prudence, inclined to make it no laughing matter to her. She did laugh as she saw Heathleaf pass the window. I was sweeping in half, and I noticed a mysterious smile on her lips. Isabella observed in her meditations, or a book remained until the door opened, and was too late to attempt an escape, which she would gladly have done had it been possible. Coming that's right, he's claiming Mr. Scaley putting her to the fire. There are two people sadly in need of a third to fill the eyes between them, and you are the very one we should both of us choose. Heathleaf, I'm proud to show you a last, somebody that notes on you more than myself. I expect you to feel flattered. No, it's not, Nelly, don't look at her. My poor little sister-in-law is breaking her heart by mere contemplation of your physical and moral beauty. It lies in your own power to be Edgar's brother. No, no, Isabella, you shan't rather, after she continued arresting you with faint playfulness, the confounded girl who had risen indignable, or a quarreling like cats about you, Heathleaf, than I was fairly beaten in protestations of devotion and admiration. And moreover, I was informed that if I would but have the manners to stand aside, my rival, as you would have yourself to be, would shoot a shot into your soul, that will fix you forever and seal my image into internal oblivion. Catherine, said Isabella calling up her dignity and stating to struggle from the tight grasp of hell, but thank you to Adieu to the truth and the slandering, even in joke. Mr. Heathleaf, be kind enough to be this fan of yours, release me. She forgets that you and I are not intimate acquaintances and what amuses her is painful to maybe an expression. As the guest answered nothing but took his seat and looked thoroughly indifferent with sentiments cherished concerning him, she turned and whispered an earnest appeal for liberty to her tormentor. By no means, cried Mrs. Lentz on the answer, I won't be named a dog in the manger again. You shall stay, now then. Heathleaf, why don't you have been satisfied with our pleasure news? Isabella swears that she loves Edgar as for me is nothing to that she entertains for you. I'm sure she made some speech of the kind, did she not, Ellen? Then she has fasted ever since the day before yesterday's walk from sorrow and rage that I dispatched her out of your society under the idea of it being unacceptable. My thank you belie her, said Heathleaf, twisting his chaired phasem. She wishes to be out of my society now at any rate. And he stared hard at the object of this course as one might do what a strange repulsive animal, a centipede from the M.D.s, for instance, which curiosity leads one to examine in spite of the aversion it raises. The poor thing couldn't bear that. She grew white and red in rapid succession, and while tears had been her lashes bent to the strength of her small fingers to loosen firm clutches of Catherine, and perceiving that as fast as she raised one finger off her arm and another closed out, that she could ever move the whole together, she began to make use of her nails, and their sharpness presently ornamented the detainees with questions of red. So, Tigress, exclaimed Mrs. Linton, setting her free and shaggy hand with pain. Be good for God's sake and hide your fix and face. How foolish reveal those talents to him! Cut your fence in the conclusions he'll draw. Look here, Cliff. The instruments that will do execution you might be aware of your eyes. I had wrenched them off her fingers till they ever menaced me, he answered brutally when the door had closed after her. What did you mean by it isn't the creature in that manor, Catherine? We were not speaking the truth, were you? I assure you I was, Richard. She has been dying for your sake several weeks, and raving about you this morning, and pouring forth the dilute of a pure, because I represent your failings in the play light, for the purpose of mitigating her adoration. But I'll notice it further. I wish to punish her sotaness. That's all. I like her too well, my dear his good, to let you absolutely seize and devour her. And I like her too ill to attempt it, said he, except in a very goldish fashion. You'd hear of odd things if I lived alone, with that mow-kish waxen face. The most ordinary would be painting her as white to the colours of the rainbow, and turning the blue eyes black every day or two, where these testably resembled lanterns. Delectably, observed Catherine, they are dove-sized angels. She is all brothers there, as she not, he asked after a brief silence. I should be sorry to think so, returned his companion, half a dozen after you, so resortized for peace heaven. Abstract your mind from this protective present, you are too prone to covet your neighbour's goods. Remember these neighbours goods are mine. They were mine, they would be none the less that, said his dear. Though his bear lantern may be silly, she is a cursed mad, and in short will dismiss the matter as you advise. From their tongues, they did dismiss it, and Catherine probably from her thoughts. The other, I felt certain, recalled often in the course of the evening. I saw him smile to himself, green rather, and lapsed into ominous musing, whenever Mrs. Linton had occasion to be absent from the apartment. I determined to watch his movements. My heart invariably cleaved to the masters in preference to Catherine's side. With reason, I imagined, for he was kind and trustful and honourable, and she, she could not be called opposite, yet she seemed to allow herself such wild attitude that I had little faith in her principles and still less sympathy for her feelings. I wanted something to happen which might have the effect of freeing both brotherly heights and the grandeur of mischief his cliff quietly, leaving us as we had been prior to his event. His visits were a continual nightmare to me, and I suspected to my master also. His bolder the heights, with an oppression past explaining, I felt that God had forsaken the stray ship there to his own wicked monuments, and an evil beast prowled between each of the four, waiting his time to spring mistry. End of chapter 10.