I said Mrs. Heathcliff lived above a dozen years after quitting her husband. Her family were of a delicate constitution: she and Edgar both lacked the ruddy health that you will generally meet in these parts. What her last illness was, I am not certain: I conjecture, they died of the same thing, a kind of fever, slow at its commencement, but incurable, and rapidly consuming life towards the close. She wrote to inform her brother of the probable conclusion of a four-months' indisposition under which she had suffered, and entreated him to come to her, if possible; for she had much to settle, and she wished to bid him adieu, and deliver Linton safely into his hands. Her hope was that Linton might be left with him, as he had been with her: his father, she would fain convince herself, had no desire to assume the burden of his maintenance or education. My master hesitated not a moment in complying with her request: reluctant as he was to leave home at ordinary calls, he flew to answer this; commanding Catherine to my peculiar vigilance, in his absence, with reiterated orders that she must not wander out of the park, even under my escort: he did not calculate on her going unaccompanied.
He was away three weeks. The first day or two my charge sat in a corner of the library, too sad for either reading or playing: in that quiet state she caused me little trouble; but it was succeeded by an interval of impatient, fretful weariness; and being too busy, and too old then, to run up and down amusing her, I hit on a method by which she might entertain herself. I used to send her on her travels round the grounds-now on foot, and now on a pony; indulging her with a patient audience of all her real and imaginary adventures when she returned.

I said Mrs. Heathcliff lived over a dozen years after leaving her husband. She and Edgar were both delicate; what her last illness was, I am not certain, but she wrote to inform her brother that she was probably dying, and begged him to come to her. She wished to bid him adieu, and deliver her son Linton safely into his hands.
My master did not hesitate: reluctant as he usually was to leave home, he flew to her; telling me that in his absence, I must ensure that Catherine did not wander out of the park.
He was away three weeks. The first day or two Catherine sat in the library, too sad for either reading or playing: her quiet state caused me little trouble; but it was followed by fretful weariness; and to amuse her, I sent her on her travels round the grounds - on foot, or on a pony; listening to her real and imaginary adventures when she returned.
