At the close of three weeks I was able to quit my chamber and move about the house. And on the first occasion of my sitting up in the evening I asked Catherine to read to me, because my eyes were weak. We were in the library, the master having gone to bed: she consented, rather unwillingly, I fancied; and imagining my sort of books did not suit her, I bid her please herself in the choice of what she perused. She selected one of her own favourites, and got forward steadily about an hour; then came frequent questions.
"Ellen, are not you tired? Hadn't you better lie down now? You'll be sick, keeping up so long, Ellen."
"No, no, dear, I'm not tired," I returned, continually.
Perceiving me immovable, she essayed another method of showing her disrelish for her occupation. It changed to yawning, and stretching, and-
"Ellen, I'm tired."
"Give over then and talk," I answered.
That was worse: she fretted and sighed, and looked at her watch till eight, and finally went to her room, completely overdone with sleep; judging by her peevish, heavy look, and the constant rubbing she inflicted on her eyes. The following night she seemed more impatient still; and on the third from recovering my company she complained of a headache, and left me. I thought her conduct odd; and having remained alone a long while, I resolved on going and inquiring whether she were better, and asking her to come and lie on the sofa, instead of upstairs in the dark. No Catherine could I discover upstairs, and none below. The servants affirmed they had not seen her. I listened at Mr. Edgar's door; all was silence. I returned to her apartment, extinguished my candle, and seated myself in the window.
The moon shone bright; a sprinkling of snow covered the ground, and I reflected that she might, possibly, have taken it into her head to walk about the garden, for refreshment. I did detect a figure creeping along the inner fence of the park; but it was not my young mistress: on its emerging into the light, I recognised one of the grooms. He stood a considerable period, viewing the carriage-road through the grounds; then started off at a brisk pace, as if he had detected something, and reappeared presently, leading Miss's pony; and there she was, just dismounted, and walking by its side. The man took his charge stealthily across the grass towards the stable. Cathy entered by the casement-window of the drawing-room, and glided noiselessly up to where I awaited her. She put the door gently too, slipped off her snowy shoes, untied her hat, and was proceeding, unconscious of my espionage, to lay aside her mantle, when I suddenly rose and revealed myself. The surprise petrified her an instant: she uttered an inarticulate exclamation, and stood fixed.
"My dear Miss Catherine," I began, too vividly impressed by her recent kindness to break into a scold, "where have you been riding out at this hour? And why should you try to deceive me by telling a tale? Where have you been? Speak!"
"To the bottom of the park," she stammered. "I didn't tell a tale."
"And nowhere else?" I demanded.
"No," was the muttered reply.
"Oh, Catherine!" I cried, sorrowfully. "You know you have been doing wrong, or you wouldn't be driven to uttering an untruth to me. That does grieve me. I'd rather be three months ill, than hear you frame a deliberate lie."
She sprang forward, and bursting into tears, threw her arms round my neck.
"Well, Ellen, I'm so afraid of you being angry," she said. "Promise not to be angry, and you shall know the very truth: I hate to hide it."
We sat down in the window-seat; I assured her I would not scold, whatever her secret might be, and I guessed it, of course; so she commenced-
"I've been to Wuthering Heights, Ellen, and I've never missed going a day since you fell ill; except thrice before, and twice after you left your room. I gave Michael books and pictures to prepare Minny every evening, and to put her back in the stable: you mustn't scold him either, mind. I was at the Heights by half-past six, and generally stayed till half-past eight, and then galloped home. It was not to amuse myself that I went: I was often wretched all the time. Now and then I was happy: once in a week perhaps. At first, I expected there would be sad work persuading you to let me keep my word to Linton: for I had engaged to call again next day, when we quitted him; but, as you stayed upstairs on the morrow, I escaped that trouble. While Michael was refastening the lock of the park door in the afternoon, I got possession of the key, and told him how my cousin wished me to visit him, because he was sick, and couldn't come to the Grange; and how papa would object to my going: and then I negotiated with him about the pony. He is fond of reading, and he thinks of leaving soon to get married; so he offered, if I would lend him books out of the library, to do what I wished: but I preferred giving him my own, and that satisfied him better.
"On my second visit Linton seemed in lively spirits; and Zillah (that is their housekeeper) made us a clean room and a good fire, and told us that, as Joseph was out at a prayer-meeting and Hareton Earnshaw was off with his dogs-robbing our woods of pheasants, as I heard afterwards-we might do what we liked. She brought me some warm wine and gingerbread, and appeared exceedingly good-natured, and Linton sat in the arm-chair, and I in the little rocking chair on the hearth-stone, and we laughed and talked so merrily, and found so much to say: we planned where we would go, and what we would do in summer. I needn't repeat that, because you would call it silly.
"One time, however, we were near quarrelling. He said the pleasantest manner of spending a hot July day was lying from morning till evening on a bank of heath in the middle of the moors, with the bees humming dreamily about among the bloom, and the larks singing high up overhead, and the blue sky and bright sun shining steadily and cloudlessly. That was his most perfect idea of heaven's happiness: mine was rocking in a rustling green tree, with a west wind blowing, and bright white clouds flitting rapidly above; and not only larks, but throstles, and blackbirds, and linnets, and cuckoos pouring out music on every side, and the moors seen at a distance, broken into cool dusky dells; but close by great swells of long grass undulating in waves to the breeze; and woods and sounding water, and the whole world awake and wild with joy. He wanted all to lie in an ecstasy of peace; I wanted all to sparkle and dance in a glorious jubilee. I said his heaven would be only half alive; and he said mine would be drunk: I said I should fall asleep in his; and he said he could not breathe in mine, and began to grow very snappish. At last, we agreed to try both, as soon as the right weather came; and then we kissed each other and were friends.
"After sitting still an hour, I looked at the great room with its smooth uncarpeted floor, and thought how nice it would be to play in, if we removed the table; and I asked Linton to call Zillah in to help us, and we'd have a game at blindman's-buff; she should try to catch us: you used to, you know, Ellen. He wouldn't: there was no pleasure in it, he said; but he consented to play at ball with me. We found two in a cupboard, among a heap of old toys, tops, and hoops, and battledores and shuttlecocks. One was marked C., and the other H.; I wished to have the C., because that stood for Catherine, and the H. might be for Heathcliff, his name; but the bran came out of H., and Linton didn't like it. I beat him constantly: and he got cross again, and coughed, and returned to his chair. That night, though, he easily recovered his good humour: he was charmed with two or three pretty songs-_your_ songs, Ellen; and when I was obliged to go, he begged and entreated me to come the following evening; and I promised. Minny and I went flying home as light as air; and I dreamt of Wuthering Heights and my sweet, darling cousin, till morning.
"On the morrow I was sad; partly because you were poorly, and partly that I wished my father knew, and approved of my excursions: but it was beautiful moonlight after tea; and, as I rode on, the gloom cleared. I shall have another happy evening, I thought to myself; and what delights me more, my pretty Linton will. I trotted up their garden, and was turning round to the back, when that fellow Earnshaw met me, took my bridle, and bid me go in by the front entrance. He patted Minny's neck, and said she was a bonny beast, and appeared as if he wanted me to speak to him. I only told him to leave my horse alone, or else it would kick him. He answered in his vulgar accent, 'It wouldn't do mitch hurt if it did;' and surveyed its legs with a smile. I was half inclined to make it try; however, he moved off to open the door, and, as he raised the latch, he looked up to the inscription above, and said, with a stupid mixture of awkwardness and elation: 'Miss Catherine! I can read yon, now.'
"'Wonderful,' I exclaimed. 'Pray let us hear you-you _are_ grown clever!'
"He spelt, and drawled over by syllables, the name-'Hareton Earnshaw.'
"'And the figures?' I cried, encouragingly, perceiving that he came to a dead halt.
"'I cannot tell them yet,' he answered.
"'Oh, you dunce!' I said, laughing heartily at his failure.
"The fool stared, with a grin hovering about his lips, and a scowl gathering over his eyes, as if uncertain whether he might not join in my mirth: whether it were not pleasant familiarity, or what it really was, contempt. I settled his doubts, by suddenly retrieving my gravity and desiring him to walk away, for I came to see Linton, not him. He reddened-I saw that by the moonlight-dropped his hand from the latch, and skulked off, a picture of mortified vanity. He imagined himself to be as accomplished as Linton, I suppose, because he could spell his own name; and was marvellously discomfited that I didn't think the same."
"Stop, Miss Catherine, dear!"-I interrupted. "I shall not scold, but I don't like your conduct there. If you had remembered that Hareton was your cousin as much as Master Heathcliff, you would have felt how improper it was to behave in that way. At least, it was praiseworthy ambition for him to desire to be as accomplished as Linton; and probably he did not learn merely to show off: you had made him ashamed of his ignorance before, I have no doubt; and he wished to remedy it and please you. To sneer at his imperfect attempt was very bad breeding. Had you been brought up in his circumstances, would you be less rude? He was as quick and as intelligent a child as ever you were; and I'm hurt that he should be despised now, because that base Heathcliff has treated him so unjustly."
"Well, Ellen, you won't cry about it, will you?" she exclaimed, surprised at my earnestness. "But wait, and you shall hear if he conned his A B C to please me; and if it were worth while being civil to the brute. I entered; Linton was lying on the settle, and half got up to welcome me.
"'I'm ill to-night, Catherine, love,' he said; 'and you must have all the talk, and let me listen. Come, and sit by me. I was sure you wouldn't break your word, and I'll make you promise again, before you go.'
"I knew now that I mustn't tease him, as he was ill; and I spoke softly and put no questions, and avoided irritating him in any way. I had brought some of my nicest books for him: he asked me to read a little of one, and I was about to comply, when Earnshaw burst the door open: having gathered venom with reflection. He advanced direct to us, seized Linton by the arm, and swung him off the seat.
"'Get to thy own room!' he said, in a voice almost inarticulate with passion; and his face looked swelled and furious. 'Take her there if she comes to see thee: thou shalln't keep me out of this. Begone wi' ye both!'
"He swore at us, and left Linton no time to answer, nearly throwing him into the kitchen; and he clenched his fist as I followed, seemingly longing to knock me down. I was afraid for a moment, and I let one volume fall; he kicked it after me, and shut us out. I heard a malignant, crackly laugh by the fire, and turning, beheld that odious Joseph standing rubbing his bony hands, and quivering.
"'I wer sure he'd sarve ye out! He's a grand lad! He's getten t' raight sperrit in him! _He_ knaws-ay, he knaws, as weel as I do, who sud be t' maister yonder-Ech, ech, ech! He made ye skift properly! Ech, ech, ech!'
"'Where must we go?' I asked of my cousin, disregarding the old wretch's mockery.
"Linton was white and trembling. He was not pretty then, Ellen: oh, no! he looked frightful; for his thin face and large eyes were wrought into an expression of frantic, powerless fury. He grasped the handle of the door, and shook it: it was fastened inside.
"'If you don't let me in, I'll kill you!-If you don't let me in, I'll kill you!' he rather shrieked than said. 'Devil! devil!-I'll kill you-I'll kill you!'
Joseph uttered his croaking laugh again.
"'Thear, that's t' father!' he cried. 'That's father! We've allas summut o' either side in us. Niver heed, Hareton, lad-dunnut be 'feard-he cannot get at thee!'
"I took hold of Linton's hands, and tried to pull him away; but he shrieked so shockingly that I dared not proceed. At last his cries were choked by a dreadful fit of coughing; blood gushed from his mouth, and he fell on the ground. I ran into the yard, sick with terror; and called for Zillah, as loud as I could. She soon heard me: she was milking the cows in a shed behind the barn, and hurrying from her work, she inquired what there was to do? I hadn't breath to explain; dragging her in, I looked about for Linton. Earnshaw had come out to examine the mischief he had caused, and he was then conveying the poor thing upstairs. Zillah and I ascended after him; but he stopped me at the top of the steps, and said I shouldn't go in: I must go home. I exclaimed that he had killed Linton, and I _would_ enter. Joseph locked the door, and declared I should do 'no sich stuff,' and asked me whether I were 'bahn to be as mad as him.' I stood crying till the housekeeper reappeared. She affirmed he would be better in a bit, but he couldn't do with that shrieking and din; and she took me, and nearly carried me into the house.
"Ellen, I was ready to tear my hair off my head! I sobbed and wept so that my eyes were almost blind; and the ruffian you have such sympathy with stood opposite: presuming every now and then to bid me 'wisht,' and denying that it was his fault; and, finally, frightened by my assertions that I would tell papa, and that he should be put in prison and hanged, he commenced blubbering himself, and hurried out to hide his cowardly agitation. Still, I was not rid of him: when at length they compelled me to depart, and I had got some hundred yards off the premises, he suddenly issued from the shadow of the road-side, and checked Minny and took hold of me.
"'Miss Catherine, I'm ill grieved,' he began, 'but it's rayther too bad-'
"I gave him a cut with my whip, thinking perhaps he would murder me. He let go, thundering one of his horrid curses, and I galloped home more than half out of my senses.
"I didn't bid you good-night that evening, and I didn't go to Wuthering Heights the next: I wished to go exceedingly; but I was strangely excited, and dreaded to hear that Linton was dead, sometimes; and sometimes shuddered at the thought of encountering Hareton. On the third day I took courage: at least, I couldn't bear longer suspense, and stole off once more. I went at five o'clock, and walked; fancying I might manage to creep into the house, and up to Linton's room, unobserved. However, the dogs gave notice of my approach. Zillah received me, and saying 'the lad was mending nicely,' showed me into a small, tidy, carpeted apartment, where, to my inexpressible joy, I beheld Linton laid on a little sofa, reading one of my books. But he would neither speak to me nor look at me, through a whole hour, Ellen: he has such an unhappy temper. And what quite confounded me, when he did open his mouth, it was to utter the falsehood that I had occasioned the uproar, and Hareton was not to blame! Unable to reply, except passionately, I got up and walked from the room. He sent after me a faint 'Catherine!' He did not reckon on being answered so: but I wouldn't turn back; and the morrow was the second day on which I stayed at home, nearly determined to visit him no more. But it was so miserable going to bed and getting up, and never hearing anything about him, that my resolution melted into air before it was properly formed. It had appeared wrong to take the journey once; now it seemed wrong to refrain. Michael came to ask if he must saddle Minny; I said 'Yes,' and considered myself doing a duty as she bore me over the hills. I was forced to pass the front windows to get to the court: it was no use trying to conceal my presence.
"'Young master is in the house,' said Zillah, as she saw me making for the parlour. I went in; Earnshaw was there also, but he quitted the room directly. Linton sat in the great arm-chair half asleep; walking up to the fire, I began in a serious tone, partly meaning it to be true-
"'As you don't like me, Linton, and as you think I come on purpose to hurt you, and pretend that I do so every time, this is our last meeting: let us say good-bye; and tell Mr. Heathcliff that you have no wish to see me, and that he mustn't invent any more falsehoods on the subject.'
"'Sit down and take your hat off, Catherine,' he answered. 'You are so much happier than I am, you ought to be better. Papa talks enough of my defects, and shows enough scorn of me, to make it natural I should doubt myself. I doubt whether I am not altogether as worthless as he calls me, frequently; and then I feel so cross and bitter, I hate everybody! I am worthless, and bad in temper, and bad in spirit, almost always; and, if you choose, you may say good-bye: you'll get rid of an annoyance. Only, Catherine, do me this justice: believe that if I might be as sweet, and as kind, and as good as you are, I would be; as willingly, and more so, than as happy and as healthy. And believe that your kindness has made me love you deeper than if I deserved your love: and though I couldn't, and cannot help showing my nature to you, I regret it and repent it; and shall regret and repent it till I die!'
"I felt he spoke the truth; and I felt I must forgive him: and, though we should quarrel the next moment, I must forgive him again. We were reconciled; but we cried, both of us, the whole time I stayed: not entirely for sorrow; yet I _was_ sorry Linton had that distorted nature. He'll never let his friends be at ease, and he'll never be at ease himself! I have always gone to his little parlour, since that night; because his father returned the day after.
"About three times, I think, we have been merry and hopeful, as we were the first evening; the rest of my visits were dreary and troubled: now with his selfishness and spite, and now with his sufferings: but I've learned to endure the former with nearly as little resentment as the latter. Mr. Heathcliff purposely avoids me: I have hardly seen him at all. Last Sunday, indeed, coming earlier than usual, I heard him abusing poor Linton cruelly for his conduct of the night before. I can't tell how he knew of it, unless he listened. Linton had certainly behaved provokingly: however, it was the business of nobody but me, and I interrupted Mr. Heathcliff's lecture by entering and telling him so. He burst into a laugh, and went away, saying he was glad I took that view of the matter. Since then, I've told Linton he must whisper his bitter things. Now, Ellen, you have heard all. I can't be prevented from going to Wuthering Heights, except by inflicting misery on two people; whereas, if you'll only not tell papa, my going need disturb the tranquillity of none. You'll not tell, will you? It will be very heartless, if you do."
"I'll make up my mind on that point by to-morrow, Miss Catherine," I replied. "It requires some study; and so I'll leave you to your rest, and go think it over."
I thought it over aloud, in my master's presence; walking straight from her room to his, and relating the whole story: with the exception of her conversations with her cousin, and any mention of Hareton. Mr. Linton was alarmed and distressed, more than he would acknowledge to me. In the morning, Catherine learnt my betrayal of her confidence, and she learnt also that her secret visits were to end. In vain she wept and writhed against the interdict, and implored her father to have pity on Linton: all she got to comfort her was a promise that he would write and give him leave to come to the Grange when he pleased; but explaining that he must no longer expect to see Catherine at Wuthering Heights. Perhaps, had he been aware of his nephew's disposition and state of health, he would have seen fit to withhold even that slight consolation.

After three weeks I was able to quit my chamber. The first time I sat up in the evening I asked Catherine to read to me, because my eyes were weak. We were in the library: she consented, rather unwillingly; so I asked her to choose a book she liked. She read for a while; then came frequent questions.
'Ellen, are not you tired? Hadn't you better lie down now?'
'No, no, dear, I'm not tired,' I replied.
Next she began to yawn and stretch, saying, 'Ellen, I'm tired.'
'Stop reading then and talk,' I answered.
That was worse: she fretted and sighed, and looked at her watch till eight, and finally went to her room, rubbing her eyes. The following night she seemed more impatient still; and on the third complained of a headache, and left me.
I thought her conduct odd; so I went to ask her to come and lie on the sofa, instead of upstairs in the dark. I could not find her upstairs, nor below. The servants said they had not seen her. I listened at Mr. Edgar's door; all was silence. I returned to her apartment, extinguished my candle, and seated myself in the window.
The moon shone bright; a sprinkling of snow covered the ground, and I reflected that she might have taken it into her head to walk about the garden. I did detect a figure creeping along the inner fence of the park; but on its emerging into the light, I recognised one of the grooms. He stood a while viewing the road through the grounds before moving away; but soon reappeared leading Miss's pony; and there she was, walking by its side. The man took the pony stealthily across the grass towards the stable.
Cathy entered by the window of the drawing-room, and glided noiselessly up to where I waited. She closed the door gently, slipped off her snowy shoes, untied her hat, and was taking off her cloak when I suddenly rose and revealed myself. The surprise petrified her: she stood fixed.
'My dear Miss Catherine,' I began, 'where have you been riding at this hour? And why did you try to deceive me by telling a tale? Where have you been?'
'To the bottom of the park,' she stammered. 'I didn't tell a tale.'
'Oh, Catherine!' I cried, sorrowfully. 'You know you have been doing wrong, or you wouldn't tell me lies. That does grieve me. I'd rather be three months ill, than hear you tell a lie.'
She sprang forward, and bursting into tears, threw her arms round my neck.
'Ellen, I'm so afraid of you being angry,' she said. 'Promise not to be angry, and you shall know the truth.'
I assured her I would not scold, whatever her secret might be. I guessed it, of course. She began-
'I've been to Wuthering Heights, Ellen, every day since you fell ill. I asked Michael to prepare Minny every evening, and to put her back in the stable: you mustn't scold him either. I was at the Heights by half-past six, and generally stayed till half-past eight, and then galloped home. It was not to amuse myself: I was often wretched. Perhaps once in a week I was happy. After my first visit, I got the key of the park door from Michael. I told him how my cousin wished me to visit him, because he was sick, and couldn't come to the Grange. Michael is fond of reading, so I gave him books, and he offered to do what I wished.
'On my second visit Linton seemed lively; and Zillah the housekeeper made us a good fire, and told us that Joseph was out at a prayer-meeting and Hareton Earnshaw was off with his dogs, so we might do what we liked. She brought me wine and gingerbread, and seemed very good-natured, and Linton sat in the arm-chair, and I in the little rocking chair, and we laughed and talked so merrily, and found so much to say: we planned where we would go, and what we would do in summer.
'But we almost quarrelled over that. He said the pleasantest manner of spending a hot July day was lying on the heather in the middle of the moors, with the bees humming dreamily about, and the larks singing overhead, and the blue sky and bright sun shining cloudlessly.
'That was his most perfect idea of heaven's happiness: mine was rocking in a rustling green tree, with a west wind blowing, and bright white clouds flitting rapidly above; and not only larks, but thrushes, and blackbirds, and linnets, and cuckoos pouring out music on every side, and the moors seen at a distance, broken into cool dusky dells; but close by, great swells of long grass undulating in waves to the breeze; and woods and sounding water, and the whole world awake and wild with joy.
'He wanted all to lie in an ecstasy of peace; I wanted all to sparkle and dance in a glorious jubilee. I said his heaven would be only half alive; and he said mine would be drunk: I said I should fall asleep in his; and he said he could not breathe in mine, and grew very snappish. At last, we agreed to try both, as soon as the right weather came; and then we kissed each other and were friends.
'Then I asked Linton to play at blindman's buff; but he wouldn't: there was no pleasure in it, he said; but he consented to play at ball. We found two in a cupboard, among a heap of old toys, and battledores and shuttlecocks. One was marked C., and the other H.; I wished to have the C., because that stood for Catherine, and the H. might be for Heathcliff, but Linton didn't like it. I kept beating him: and he got cross again. He recovered his good humour, though, when I sang to him; and when I had to go, he begged me to come the following evening; so I promised. Minny and I went flying home as light as air; and I dreamt of Wuthering Heights and my sweet, darling cousin, till morning.
'On the morrow I was sad; partly because you were poorly, and partly because I wished that my father approved of my visits: but it was beautiful moonlight after tea. As I rode there, I looked forward to another happy evening. At their garden, that fellow Earnshaw met me, took my bridle, and bid me go in by the front door. He patted Minny's neck, and said she was a bonny beast. I told him to leave my horse alone, or else it would kick him.
'He answered in his vulgar accent, "It wouldn't do mitch hurt if it did," and surveyed its legs with a smile. When he opened the door, he looked up to the inscription above, and said, with a stupid mixture of awkwardness and elation: "Miss Catherine! I can read yon, now."
'"Wonderful," I exclaimed. "Let us hear you - you are grown clever!"
'He spelt over by syllables, the name "Hareton Earnshaw."
'"And the figures?" I cried.
'"I cannot tell them yet," he answered.
'"Oh, you dunce!" I said, laughing heartily.
'The fool stared uncertainly, with a grin hovering about his lips, and a scowl gathering over his eyes. I asked him to walk away, for I came to see Linton, not him. He reddened and skulked off, a picture of mortified vanity. He imagined himself to be as accomplished as Linton, I suppose, because he could spell his own name.'
'Stop, Miss Catherine, dear!' I interrupted. 'I shall not scold, but I don't like your conduct there. Hareton is your cousin; and it was a praiseworthy ambition for him to wish to learn to read. Probably he did not learn merely to show off: you had made him ashamed of his ignorance, I have no doubt; and he wished to remedy it and to please you. To sneer at his attempt was very rude. If you had been brought up in his circumstances, would you be any better? He was as intelligent a child as ever you were; and I'm hurt that he should be despised now, because that base Heathcliff has treated him so unjustly.'
'Well, Ellen, you won't cry about it, will you?' she exclaimed, surprised at my earnestness. 'But wait, and you shall hear if it were worth while being civil to the brute. I entered; Linton was lying on the settle, and half got up to welcome me.
'"I'm ill to-night, Catherine, love," he said; "Come, and sit by me. I was sure you wouldn't break your word, and I'll make you promise again, before you go."
'I knew that I mustn't tease him, as he was ill; and I spoke softly to him. I had brought some of my nicest books: he asked me to read, and I was about to comply, when Earnshaw burst in. He advanced on us, seized Linton by the arm, and swung him off the seat.
'"Get to thy own room!" he said, passionately. He looked furious. "Take her there if she comes to see thee: thou shan't keep me out of here. Begone wi' ye both!"
'He swore at us, and clenched his fist at me. I was afraid for a moment, and I dropped a book; he kicked it after me, and shut us out. I heard a malignant laugh by the fire, and turning, saw that odious Joseph rubbing his bony hands.
'"He's a grand lad! He's getten t' right spirit in him! He knows who should be t' master! He made ye shift!"
'"Where must we go?" I asked my cousin, ignoring the old wretch.
'Linton was white and trembling. He looked frightful; for his thin face and large eyes bore an expression of powerless fury. He shook the door handle.
'"If you don't let me in, I'll kill you!" he shrieked. "Devil! - I'll kill you!"
'Joseph laughed again.
'"There, that's t' father!" he cried. "Don't be afeard, Hareton, lad - he cannot get at thee!"
'I tried to pull Linton away; but he shrieked, and then had a dreadful fit of coughing; blood gushed from his mouth, and he fell on the ground. I ran into the yard, sick with terror, and called for Zillah. She came hurrying from the cow-shed, and I dragged her in. Earnshaw was taking poor Linton upstairs. Zillah and I went up after him; but he stopped me at the top of the steps, and said I must go home. I exclaimed that I would enter.
'But Joseph locked the door, and declared I should not. I stood crying till the housekeeper reappeared. She said Linton would be better in a bit, but he couldn't stand that shrieking; and she nearly carried me into the kitchen.
'Ellen, I sobbed until my eyes were almost blind; and the ruffian you have such sympathy with stood opposite: every now and then saying "hush," and denying that it was his fault. Finally, when I said that I would tell papa, and that he should be put in prison and hanged, he began blubbering himself, and hurried out. Still, I was not rid of him: when at length they made me leave, he suddenly appeared.
'"Miss Catherine, I'm grieved," he began, "but it's too bad-"
'I gave him a cut with my whip. He thundered one of his horrid curses, and I galloped home half out of my senses.
'I didn't go to Wuthering Heights the next evening: I wished to go, but I dreaded to hear that Linton was dead, and shuddered at the thought of meeting Hareton. On the third day I took courage, and stole off once more. I walked there, hoping to creep into the house unobserved; however, the dogs barked at me. Zillah received me, and saying "the lad was mending nicely," showed me into a small, tidy room, where, to my joy, I beheld Linton on a little sofa, reading one of my books.
'But he would neither speak to me nor look at me, through a whole hour, Ellen: he has such an unhappy temper. And when he did open his mouth, it was to say that I had caused the uproar, and Hareton was not to blame! I got up and walked out. He said faintly; "Catherine!" but I wouldn't turn back; and the next day I stayed at home.
'Yet I was so miserable that when Michael came to ask if he must saddle Minny, I said "Yes." This time I did not try to conceal my presence.
'"Young master is in the parlour," said Zillah. I went in; Earnshaw was there also, but he quitted the room directly. Linton sat in the great arm-chair half asleep. I began in a serious tone-
'"As you don't like me, Linton, and as you think I come on purpose to hurt you, this is our last meeting. Let us say good-bye; and tell Mr. Heathcliff that you have no wish to see me."
'"Sit down, Catherine," he answered. "You are so much happier than I am, you ought to be better. Papa shows so much scorn of me, that I doubt my own worth; and I feel so cross and bitter, I hate everybody! I am bad in temper, and bad in spirit, almost always; and, if you choose, you may say good-bye. Only, Catherine, do me this justice: believe that if I might be as sweet, and as kind, and as good as you are, I would be, willingly. And believe that your kindness has made me love you deeper than if I deserved your love: and though I cannot help showing my nature to you, I regret it and repent it; and shall regret and repent it till I die!"
'I felt he spoke the truth; and I felt I must forgive him. We were reconciled; yet I was sorry Linton had that distorted nature. He'll never let his friends be at ease, and he'll never be at ease himself!
'About three times, I think, we have been merry and hopeful, as we were the first evening; the rest of my visits were dreary and troubled: sometimes with his selfishness, and sometimes with his sufferings: but I've learned to endure both.
'Mr. Heathcliff avoids me: I have hardly seen him at all. Last Sunday, I heard him abusing poor Linton cruelly for his conduct of the night before. I don't know how he knew of it, unless he listened. Linton had certainly behaved provokingly: however, it was nobody's business but mine, and I interrupted Mr. Heathcliff by entering and telling him so. He laughed, and went away, saying he was glad I took that view. Since then, I've told Linton he must whisper his bitter things. Now, Ellen, you have heard all. You will not tell Papa, will you?'
'I'll make up my mind by tomorrow, Miss Catherine,' I replied. 'I'll leave you to rest, and go think it over.'
I thought it over aloud, in my master's presence; walking straight from her room to his, and relating the whole story, except for her conversations with her cousin, and any mention of Hareton. Mr. Linton was alarmed and distressed. In the morning, Catherine learnt of my betrayal, and she learnt also that her secret visits were to end.
In vain she wept, and implored her father to have pity: all she got to comfort her was a promise that her father would write and allow Linton to come to the Grange when he pleased; but explaining that he must no longer expect to see Catherine at Wuthering Heights. Perhaps, had he been aware of his nephew's character and state of health, he would have withheld even that slight consolation.


"These things happened last winter, sir," said Mrs. Dean; "hardly more than a year ago. Last winter, I did not think, at another twelve months' end, I should be amusing a stranger to the family with relating them! Yet, who knows how long you'll be a stranger? You're too young to rest always contented, living by yourself; and I some way fancy no one could see Catherine Linton and not love her. You smile; but why do you look so lively and interested when I talk about her? and why have you asked me to hang her picture over your fireplace? and why-?"
"Stop, my good friend!" I cried. "It may be very possible that _I_ should love her; but would she love me? I doubt it too much to venture my tranquillity by running into temptation: and then my home is not here. I'm of the busy world, and to its arms I must return. Go on. Was Catherine obedient to her father's commands?"
"She was," continued the housekeeper. "Her affection for him was still the chief sentiment in her heart; and he spoke without anger: he spoke in the deep tenderness of one about to leave his treasure amid perils and foes, where his remembered words would be the only aid that he could bequeath to guide her. He said to me, a few days afterwards, 'I wish my nephew would write, Ellen, or call. Tell me, sincerely, what you think of him: is he changed for the better, or is there a prospect of improvement, as he grows a man?'
"'He's very delicate, sir,' I replied; 'and scarcely likely to reach manhood: but this I can say, he does not resemble his father; and if Miss Catherine had the misfortune to marry him, he would not be beyond her control: unless she were extremely and foolishly indulgent. However, master, you'll have plenty of time to get acquainted with him and see whether he would suit her: it wants four years and more to his being of age.'"
Edgar sighed; and, walking to the window, looked out towards Gimmerton Kirk. It was a misty afternoon, but the February sun shone dimly, and we could just distinguish the two fir-trees in the yard, and the sparely-scattered gravestones.
"I've prayed often," he half soliloquised, "for the approach of what is coming; and now I begin to shrink, and fear it. I thought the memory of the hour I came down that glen a bridegroom would be less sweet than the anticipation that I was soon, in a few months, or, possibly, weeks, to be carried up, and laid in its lonely hollow! Ellen, I've been very happy with my little Cathy: through winter nights and summer days she was a living hope at my side. But I've been as happy musing by myself among those stones, under that old church: lying, through the long June evenings, on the green mound of her mother's grave, and wishing-yearning for the time when I might lie beneath it. What can I do for Cathy? How must I quit her? I'd not care one moment for Linton being Heathcliff's son; nor for his taking her from me, if he could console her for my loss. I'd not care that Heathcliff gained his ends, and triumphed in robbing me of my last blessing! But should Linton be unworthy-only a feeble tool to his father-I cannot abandon her to him! And, hard though it be to crush her buoyant spirit, I must persevere in making her sad while I live, and leaving her solitary when I die. Darling! I'd rather resign her to God, and lay her in the earth before me."
"Resign her to God as it is, sir," I answered, "and if we should lose you-which may He forbid-under His providence, I'll stand her friend and counsellor to the last. Miss Catherine is a good girl: I don't fear that she will go wilfully wrong; and people who do their duty are always finally rewarded."
Spring advanced; yet my master gathered no real strength, though he resumed his walks in the grounds with his daughter. To her inexperienced notions, this itself was a sign of convalescence; and then his cheek was often flushed, and his eyes were bright; she felt sure of his recovering. On her seventeenth birthday, he did not visit the churchyard: it was raining, and I observed-"You'll surely not go out to-night, sir?"
He answered,-"No, I'll defer it this year a little longer." He wrote again to Linton, expressing his great desire to see him; and, had the invalid been presentable, I've no doubt his father would have permitted him to come. As it was, being instructed, he returned an answer, intimating that Mr. Heathcliff objected to his calling at the Grange; but his uncle's kind remembrance delighted him, and he hoped to meet him sometimes in his rambles, and personally to petition that his cousin and he might not remain long so utterly divided.
That part of his letter was simple, and probably his own. Heathcliff knew he could plead eloquently for Catherine's company, then.
"I do not ask," he said, "that she may visit here; but am I never to see her, because my father forbids me to go to her home, and you forbid her to come to mine? Do, now and then, ride with her towards the Heights; and let us exchange a few words, in your presence! We have done nothing to deserve this separation; and you are not angry with me: you have no reason to dislike me, you allow, yourself. Dear uncle! send me a kind note to-morrow, and leave to join you anywhere you please, except at Thrushcross Grange. I believe an interview would convince you that my father's character is not mine: he affirms I am more your nephew than his son; and though I have faults which render me unworthy of Catherine, she has excused them, and for her sake, you should also. You inquire after my health-it is better; but while I remain cut off from all hope, and doomed to solitude, or the society of those who never did and never will like me, how can I be cheerful and well?"
Edgar, though he felt for the boy, could not consent to grant his request; because he could not accompany Catherine. He said, in summer, perhaps, they might meet: meantime, he wished him to continue writing at intervals, and engaged to give him what advice and comfort he was able by letter; being well aware of his hard position in his family. Linton complied; and had he been unrestrained, would probably have spoiled all by filling his epistles with complaints and lamentations: but his father kept a sharp watch over him; and, of course, insisted on every line that my master sent being shown; so, instead of penning his peculiar personal sufferings and distresses, the themes constantly uppermost in his thoughts, he harped on the cruel obligation of being held asunder from his friend and love; and gently intimated that Mr. Linton must allow an interview soon, or he should fear he was purposely deceiving him with empty promises.
Cathy was a powerful ally at home; and between them they at length persuaded my master to acquiesce in their having a ride or a walk together about once a week, under my guardianship, and on the moors nearest the Grange: for June found him still declining. Though he had set aside yearly a portion of his income for my young lady's fortune, he had a natural desire that she might retain-or at least return in a short time to-the house of her ancestors; and he considered her only prospect of doing that was by a union with his heir; he had no idea that the latter was failing almost as fast as himself; nor had any one, I believe: no doctor visited the Heights, and no one saw Master Heathcliff to make report of his condition among us. I, for my part, began to fancy my forebodings were false, and that he must be actually rallying, when he mentioned riding and walking on the moors, and seemed so earnest in pursuing his object. I could not picture a father treating a dying child as tyrannically and wickedly as I afterwards learned Heathcliff had treated him, to compel this apparent eagerness: his efforts redoubling the more imminently his avaricious and unfeeling plans were threatened with defeat by death.

'These things happened last winter, sir,' said Mrs. Dean. 'I did not think, back then, I should be amusing a stranger with relating them! Yet, who knows how long you'll be a stranger? I fancy no one could see Catherine Linton and not love her. You smile; but why do you look so lively and interested when I talk about her? and why have you asked me to hang her picture over your fireplace?'
'Stop, my good friend!' I cried. 'It may be very possible that I should love her; but would she love me? I doubt it: and my home is not here. I'm of the busy world, and to its arms I must return. Go on. Did Catherine obey her father?'
'She did.' The housekeeper continued her story:
Edgar spoke without anger, with the deep tenderness of one about to leave his treasure, who can bequeath only words to guide her.
He said to me, 'I wish my nephew would write, Ellen. Tell me, sincerely: is he changed for the better, or is he likely to improve as he grows to a man?'
'He's very delicate, sir,' I replied; 'and scarcely likely to reach manhood: but this I can say, he does not resemble his father; and if Miss Catherine had the misfortune to marry him, he would not be beyond her control unless she were foolishly indulgent. However, master, you'll have plenty of time to get acquainted with him: it's still four years until he's of age at twenty-one.'
Edgar sighed; and, walking to the window, looked out towards Gimmerton Church. It was a misty afternoon, but the February sun shone dimly, and we could just distinguish the gravestones.
'I've prayed often,' he murmured, 'for the approach of what is coming. I've been very happy with my little Cathy. But I've been as happy musing by myself among those stones, under that old church: lying on the green mound of her mother's grave, and yearning for the time when I might lie beneath it. What can I do for Cathy? It doesn't matter that Linton is Heathcliff's son, if he could console her for my loss. But if Linton is unworthy - only a feeble tool to his father - I cannot abandon her to him! And, hard though it be, I must make her sad while I live, and leave her solitary when I die. Darling! I'd rather resign her to God, and lay her in the earth before me.'
'Resign her to God, sir,' I answered, 'and if we should lose you - which may God forbid - I'll stand her friend to the last. Miss Catherine is a good girl, and does her duty.'
Spring advanced; yet my master gathered no strength, though he resumed his walks in the grounds with his daughter. She thought he was recovering: his cheek was often flushed, and his eyes were bright.
On her seventeenth birthday, he wrote again to Linton, expressing his great desire to see him; and, had the invalid been presentable, I've no doubt his father would have let him come. As it was, Linton replied that Mr. Heathcliff objected to his calling at the Grange; but that his uncle's kind remembrance delighted him, and he hoped to meet him sometimes in his rambles, and to ask that his cousin and he might not remain divided. That part of his letter was simple, and probably his own.
'I do not ask,' he said, 'that she may visit here; but am I never to see her? Do sometimes ride with her towards the Heights; and let us exchange a few words, in your presence! Dear uncle! send me a kind note tomorrow, and allow me to join you anywhere except at Thrushcross Grange. My father's character is not mine: he says I am more your nephew than his son; and though I have faults which make me unworthy of Catherine, she has excused them. My health is better; but while I am cut off from hope, and doomed to solitude, how can I be cheerful and well?'
Edgar, though he felt for the boy, could not grant his request; because he could not accompany Catherine. He said, in summer, perhaps, they might meet: meantime, he sent him advice, and wished him to continue writing.
Linton obeyed. If he had been unrestrained, he would probably have spoiled all by filling his letters with complaints: but his father kept a sharp watch over him, and insisted on seeing every line; so he merely suggested that Mr. Linton must allow him an interview with Cathy soon.
At length my master agreed to their having a ride or a walk together once a week, under my guardianship, on the moors near the Grange. He was still declining in health. Though he had set aside money for my young lady's fortune, he had a natural desire that she might return to Wuthering Heights, the house of her ancestors; and her only prospect of doing that was by marrying his heir. He had no idea that Linton was failing almost as fast as himself; nor had any one, I believe: no doctor visited the Heights.
I, for my part, began to think that Linton must be rallying, when he mentioned riding and walking on the moors. I could not picture a father treating a dying child as tyrannically and wickedly as I afterwards learned Heathcliff had treated him, to make him write so eagerly, when his greedy plans were threatened with defeat by death.


As soon as I had perused this epistle I went to the master, and informed him that his sister had arrived at the Heights, and sent me a letter expressing her sorrow for Mrs. Linton's situation, and her ardent desire to see him; with a wish that he would transmit to her, as early as possible, some token of forgiveness by me.
"Forgiveness!" said Linton. "I have nothing to forgive her, Ellen. You may call at Wuthering Heights this afternoon, if you like, and say that I am not angry, but I'm sorry to have lost her; especially as I can never think she'll be happy. It is out of the question my going to see her, however: we are eternally divided; and should she really wish to oblige me, let her persuade the villain she has married to leave the country."
"And you won't write her a little note, sir?" I asked, imploringly.
"No," he answered. "It is needless. My communication with Heathcliff's family shall be as sparing as his with mine. It shall not exist!"
Mr. Edgar's coldness depressed me exceedingly; and all the way from the Grange I puzzled my brains how to put more heart into what he said, when I repeated it; and how to soften his refusal of even a few lines to console Isabella. I daresay she had been on the watch for me since morning: I saw her looking through the lattice as I came up the garden causeway, and I nodded to her; but she drew back, as if afraid of being observed. I entered without knocking. There never was such a dreary, dismal scene as the formerly cheerful house presented! I must confess, that if I had been in the young lady's place, I would, at least, have swept the hearth, and wiped the tables with a duster. But she already partook of the pervading spirit of neglect which encompassed her. Her pretty face was wan and listless; her hair uncurled: some locks hanging lankly down, and some carelessly twisted round her head. Probably she had not touched her dress since yester evening. Hindley was not there. Mr. Heathcliff sat at a table, turning over some papers in his pocket-book; but he rose when I appeared, asked me how I did, quite friendly, and offered me a chair. He was the only thing there that seemed decent; and I thought he never looked better. So much had circumstances altered their positions, that he would certainly have struck a stranger as a born and bred gentleman; and his wife as a thorough little slattern! She came forward eagerly to greet me, and held out one hand to take the expected letter. I shook my head. She wouldn't understand the hint, but followed me to a sideboard, where I went to lay my bonnet, and importuned me in a whisper to give her directly what I had brought. Heathcliff guessed the meaning of her manoeuvres, and said-"If you have got anything for Isabella (as no doubt you have, Nelly), give it to her. You needn't make a secret of it: we have no secrets between us."
"Oh, I have nothing," I replied, thinking it best to speak the truth at once. "My master bid me tell his sister that she must not expect either a letter or a visit from him at present. He sends his love, ma'am, and his wishes for your happiness, and his pardon for the grief you have occasioned; but he thinks that after this time his household and the household here should drop intercommunication, as nothing could come of keeping it up."
Mrs. Heathcliff's lip quivered slightly, and she returned to her seat in the window. Her husband took his stand on the hearthstone, near me, and began to put questions concerning Catherine. I told him as much as I thought proper of her illness, and he extorted from me, by cross-examination, most of the facts connected with its origin. I blamed her, as she deserved, for bringing it all on herself; and ended by hoping that he would follow Mr. Linton's example and avoid future interference with his family, for good or evil.
"Mrs. Linton is now just recovering," I said; "she'll never be like she was, but her life is spared; and if you really have a regard for her, you'll shun crossing her way again: nay, you'll move out of this country entirely; and that you may not regret it, I'll inform you Catherine Linton is as different now from your old friend Catherine Earnshaw, as that young lady is different from me. Her appearance is changed greatly, her character much more so; and the person who is compelled, of necessity, to be her companion, will only sustain his affection hereafter by the remembrance of what she once was, by common humanity, and a sense of duty!"
"That is quite possible," remarked Heathcliff, forcing himself to seem calm: "quite possible that your master should have nothing but common humanity and a sense of duty to fall back upon. But do you imagine that I shall leave Catherine to his _duty_ and _humanity_? and can you compare my feelings respecting Catherine to his? Before you leave this house, I must exact a promise from you that you'll get me an interview with her: consent, or refuse, I _will_ see her! What do you say?"
"I say, Mr. Heathcliff," I replied, "you must not: you never shall, through my means. Another encounter between you and the master would kill her altogether."
"With your aid that may be avoided," he continued; "and should there be danger of such an event-should he be the cause of adding a single trouble more to her existence-why, I think I shall be justified in going to extremes! I wish you had sincerity enough to tell me whether Catherine would suffer greatly from his loss: the fear that she would restrains me. And there you see the distinction between our feelings: had he been in my place, and I in his, though I hated him with a hatred that turned my life to gall, I never would have raised a hand against him. You may look incredulous, if you please! I never would have banished him from her society as long as she desired his. The moment her regard ceased, I would have torn his heart out, and drunk his blood! But, till then-if you don't believe me, you don't know me-till then, I would have died by inches before I touched a single hair of his head!"
"And yet," I interrupted, "you have no scruples in completely ruining all hopes of her perfect restoration, by thrusting yourself into her remembrance now, when she has nearly forgotten you, and involving her in a new tumult of discord and distress."
"You suppose she has nearly forgotten me?" he said. "Oh, Nelly! you know she has not! You know as well as I do, that for every thought she spends on Linton she spends a thousand on me! At a most miserable period of my life, I had a notion of the kind: it haunted me on my return to the neighbourhood last summer; but only her own assurance could make me admit the horrible idea again. And then, Linton would be nothing, nor Hindley, nor all the dreams that ever I dreamt. Two words would comprehend my future-_death_ and _hell_: existence, after losing her, would be hell. Yet I was a fool to fancy for a moment that she valued Edgar Linton's attachment more than mine. If he loved with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn't love as much in eighty years as I could in a day. And Catherine has a heart as deep as I have: the sea could be as readily contained in that horse-trough as her whole affection be monopolised by him. Tush! He is scarcely a degree dearer to her than her dog, or her horse. It is not in him to be loved like me: how can she love in him what he has not?"
"Catherine and Edgar are as fond of each other as any two people can be," cried Isabella, with sudden vivacity. "No one has a right to talk in that manner, and I won't hear my brother depreciated in silence!"
"Your brother is wondrous fond of you too, isn't he?" observed Heathcliff, scornfully. "He turns you adrift on the world with surprising alacrity."
"He is not aware of what I suffer," she replied. "I didn't tell him that."
"You have been telling him something, then: you have written, have you?"
"To say that I was married, I did write-you saw the note."
"And nothing since?"
"No."
"My young lady is looking sadly the worse for her change of condition," I remarked. "Somebody's love comes short in her case, obviously; whose, I may guess; but, perhaps, I shouldn't say."
"I should guess it was her own," said Heathcliff. "She degenerates into a mere slut! She is tired of trying to please me uncommonly early. You'd hardly credit it, but the very morrow of our wedding she was weeping to go home. However, she'll suit this house so much the better for not being over nice, and I'll take care she does not disgrace me by rambling abroad."
"Well, sir," returned I, "I hope you'll consider that Mrs. Heathcliff is accustomed to be looked after and waited on; and that she has been brought up like an only daughter, whom every one was ready to serve. You must let her have a maid to keep things tidy about her, and you must treat her kindly. Whatever be your notion of Mr. Edgar, you cannot doubt that she has a capacity for strong attachments, or she wouldn't have abandoned the elegancies, and comforts, and friends of her former home, to fix contentedly, in such a wilderness as this, with you."
"She abandoned them under a delusion," he answered; "picturing in me a hero of romance, and expecting unlimited indulgences from my chivalrous devotion. I can hardly regard her in the light of a rational creature, so obstinately has she persisted in forming a fabulous notion of my character and acting on the false impressions she cherished. But, at last, I think she begins to know me: I don't perceive the silly smiles and grimaces that provoked me at first; and the senseless incapability of discerning that I was in earnest when I gave her my opinion of her infatuation and herself. It was a marvellous effort of perspicacity to discover that I did not love her. I believed, at one time, no lessons could teach her that! And yet it is poorly learnt; for this morning she announced, as a piece of appalling intelligence, that I had actually succeeded in making her hate me! A positive labour of Hercules, I assure you! If it be achieved, I have cause to return thanks. Can I trust your assertion, Isabella? Are you sure you hate me? If I let you alone for half a day, won't you come sighing and wheedling to me again? I daresay she would rather I had seemed all tenderness before you: it wounds her vanity to have the truth exposed. But I don't care who knows that the passion was wholly on one side: and I never told her a lie about it. She cannot accuse me of showing one bit of deceitful softness. The first thing she saw me do, on coming out of the Grange, was to hang up her little dog; and when she pleaded for it, the first words I uttered were a wish that I had the hanging of every being belonging to her, except one: possibly she took that exception for herself. But no brutality disgusted her: I suppose she has an innate admiration of it, if only her precious person were secure from injury! Now, was it not the depth of absurdity-of genuine idiocy, for that pitiful, slavish, mean-minded brach to dream that I could love her? Tell your master, Nelly, that I never, in all my life, met with such an abject thing as she is. She even disgraces the name of Linton; and I've sometimes relented, from pure lack of invention, in my experiments on what she could endure, and still creep shamefully cringing back! But tell him, also, to set his fraternal and magisterial heart at ease: that I keep strictly within the limits of the law. I have avoided, up to this period, giving her the slightest right to claim a separation; and, what's more, she'd thank nobody for dividing us. If she desired to go, she might: the nuisance of her presence outweighs the gratification to be derived from tormenting her!"
"Mr. Heathcliff," said I, "this is the talk of a madman; your wife, most likely, is convinced you are mad; and, for that reason, she has borne with you hitherto: but now that you say she may go, she'll doubtless avail herself of the permission. You are not so bewitched, ma'am, are you, as to remain with him of your own accord?"
"Take care, Ellen!" answered Isabella, her eyes sparkling irefully; there was no misdoubting by their expression the full success of her partner's endeavours to make himself detested. "Don't put faith in a single word he speaks. He's a lying fiend! a monster, and not a human being! I've been told I might leave him before; and I've made the attempt, but I dare not repeat it! Only, Ellen, promise you'll not mention a syllable of his infamous conversation to my brother or Catherine. Whatever he may pretend, he wishes to provoke Edgar to desperation: he says he has married me on purpose to obtain power over him; and he sha'n't obtain it-I'll die first! I just hope, I pray, that he may forget his diabolical prudence and kill me! The single pleasure I can imagine is to die, or to see him dead!"
"There-that will do for the present!" said Heathcliff. "If you are called upon in a court of law, you'll remember her language, Nelly! And take a good look at that countenance: she's near the point which would suit me. No; you're not fit to be your own guardian, Isabella, now; and I, being your legal protector, must retain you in my custody, however distasteful the obligation may be. Go upstairs; I have something to say to Ellen Dean in private. That's not the way: upstairs, I tell you! Why, this is the road upstairs, child!"
He seized, and thrust her from the room; and returned muttering-"I have no pity! I have no pity! The more the worms writhe, the more I yearn to crush out their entrails! It is a moral teething; and I grind with greater energy in proportion to the increase of pain."
"Do you understand what the word pity means?" I said, hastening to resume my bonnet. "Did you ever feel a touch of it in your life?"
"Put that down!" he interrupted, perceiving my intention to depart. "You are not going yet. Come here now, Nelly: I must either persuade or compel you to aid me in fulfilling my determination to see Catherine, and that without delay. I swear that I meditate no harm: I don't desire to cause any disturbance, or to exasperate or insult Mr. Linton; I only wish to hear from herself how she is, and why she has been ill; and to ask if anything that I could do would be of use to her. Last night I was in the Grange garden six hours, and I'll return there to-night; and every night I'll haunt the place, and every day, till I find an opportunity of entering. If Edgar Linton meets me, I shall not hesitate to knock him down, and give him enough to insure his quiescence while I stay. If his servants oppose me, I shall threaten them off with these pistols. But wouldn't it be better to prevent my coming in contact with them, or their master? And you could do it so easily. I'd warn you when I came, and then you might let me in unobserved, as soon as she was alone, and watch till I departed, your conscience quite calm: you would be hindering mischief."
I protested against playing that treacherous part in my employer's house: and, besides, I urged the cruelty and selfishness of his destroying Mrs. Linton's tranquillity for his satisfaction. "The commonest occurrence startles her painfully," I said. "She's all nerves, and she couldn't bear the surprise, I'm positive. Don't persist, sir! or else I shall be obliged to inform my master of your designs; and he'll take measures to secure his house and its inmates from any such unwarrantable intrusions!"
"In that case I'll take measures to secure you, woman!" exclaimed Heathcliff; "you shall not leave Wuthering Heights till to-morrow morning. It is a foolish story to assert that Catherine could not bear to see me; and as to surprising her, I don't desire it: you must prepare her-ask her if I may come. You say she never mentions my name, and that I am never mentioned to her. To whom should she mention me if I am a forbidden topic in the house? She thinks you are all spies for her husband. Oh, I've no doubt she's in hell among you! I guess by her silence, as much as anything, what she feels. You say she is often restless, and anxious-looking: is that a proof of tranquillity? You talk of her mind being unsettled. How the devil could it be otherwise in her frightful isolation? And that insipid, paltry creature attending her from _duty_ and _humanity_! From _pity_ and _charity_! He might as well plant an oak in a flower-pot, and expect it to thrive, as imagine he can restore her to vigour in the soil of his shallow cares? Let us settle it at once: will you stay here, and am I to fight my way to Catherine over Linton and his footman? Or will you be my friend, as you have been hitherto, and do what I request? Decide! because there is no reason for my lingering another minute, if you persist in your stubborn ill-nature!"
Well, Mr. Lockwood, I argued and complained, and flatly refused him fifty times; but in the long run he forced me to an agreement. I engaged to carry a letter from him to my mistress; and should she consent, I promised to let him have intelligence of Linton's next absence from home, when he might come, and get in as he was able: I wouldn't be there, and my fellow-servants should be equally out of the way. Was it right or wrong? I fear it was wrong, though expedient. I thought I prevented another explosion by my compliance; and I thought, too, it might create a favourable crisis in Catherine's mental illness: and then I remembered Mr. Edgar's stern rebuke of my carrying tales; and I tried to smooth away all disquietude on the subject, by affirming, with frequent iteration, that that betrayal of trust, if it merited so harsh an appellation, should be the last. Notwithstanding, my journey homeward was sadder than my journey thither; and many misgivings I had, ere I could prevail on myself to put the missive into Mrs. Linton's hand.
But here is Kenneth; I'll go down, and tell him how much better you are. My history is _dree_, as we say, and will serve to while away another morning.
Dree, and dreary! I reflected as the good woman descended to receive the doctor: and not exactly of the kind which I should have chosen to amuse me. But never mind! I'll extract wholesome medicines from Mrs. Dean's bitter herbs; and firstly, let me beware of the fascination that lurks in Catherine Heathcliff's brilliant eyes. I should be in a curious taking if I surrendered my heart to that young person, and the daughter turned out a second edition of the mother.

As soon as I had read this letter I went to the master, and told him about it, informing him of his sister's ardent desire to see him, and her wish to be sent some token of forgiveness.
'Forgiveness!' said Linton. 'I have nothing to forgive her, Ellen. Call at Wuthering Heights this afternoon, if you like, and say that I am not angry, but I'm sorry to have lost her; especially as I can never think she'll be happy. It is out of the question my going to see her, however.'
'And you won't write her a little note, sir?' I implored.
'No. I will not communicate with Heathcliff's family.'
Mr. Edgar's coldness depressed me exceedingly; and all the way from the Grange I puzzled my brains how to soften his refusal of even a few lines to Isabella.
I entered Wuthering Heights without knocking. There never was such a dismal scene as that formerly cheerful great room! If I had been there, I would, at least, have swept the hearth, and wiped the tables. But Isabella already shared the pervading spirit of neglect. Her pretty face was pale and listless; her dress was unchanged, and her hair was carelessly twisted round her head.
Hindley was not there. Mr. Heathcliff sat at a table, turning over some papers, but he rose and asked me how I did, quite friendly, and offered me a chair. He was the only thing there that seemed decent; and I thought he never looked better. He would certainly have struck a stranger as a born and bred gentleman; and his wife as a thorough little slattern! She came forward eagerly to greet me, and held out one hand to take the expected letter. I shook my head. She wouldn't understand the hint, but followed me to a sideboard, where I went to lay my bonnet; and begged me in a whisper to give her what I had brought.
Heathcliff said, 'If you have got anything for Isabella, give it to her, Nelly. You needn't make a secret of it: we have no secrets between us.'
'I have nothing,' I replied, thinking it best to speak the truth at once. 'My master bid me tell his sister that she must not expect either a letter or a visit from him. He sends his love, ma'am, and his wishes for your happiness, and his pardon for the grief you have caused; but he thinks you and he should drop communication.'
Mrs. Heathcliff's lip quivered slightly, and she returned to her seat. Her husband began to ask about Catherine's illness. I told him as much as I thought proper, blaming her for bringing it on herself; and ended by hoping that he would avoid future interference with the family.
'Mrs. Linton is recovering,' I said; 'she'll never be like she was, but her life is spared; and if you really have a regard for her, you won't see her again: nay, you'll leave this country entirely. Catherine Linton is different now from your old friend Catherine Earnshaw. Her appearance is changed greatly, her character much more so; and Mr. Linton will only sustain his affection from now on by the remembrance of what she once was, by common humanity, and a sense of duty!'
Heathcliff, forcing himself to seem calm, said: 'Possibly your master has nothing but common humanity and a sense of duty to fall back upon. But do you imagine that I shall leave Catherine to his duty? Can you compare my feelings to his? Promise that you'll get me an interview with her! What do you say?'
'I say, Mr. Heathcliff,' I replied, 'never, through my means. Another encounter between you and the master would kill her altogether.'
'With your aid that may be avoided,' he continued; 'and if he troubles her, I shall be justified in going to extremes! I wish you would tell me truly whether Catherine would suffer from his loss: the fear that she would restrains me. And there you see the difference between our feelings. If he had been in my place, and I in his, I never would have raised a hand against him. You may look incredulous - but I never would have banished him as long as she desired his company. The moment her affection ceased, I would have torn his heart out, and drunk his blood! But, till then, I would have died before I touched a single hair of his head!'
'And yet,' I interrupted, 'you have no scruples in completely ruining all hopes of her health, by thrusting yourself into her remembrance now, when she has nearly forgotten you, and giving her new distress.'
'You suppose she has nearly forgotten me?' he said. 'Oh, Nelly! you know she has not! You know that for every thought she spends on Linton she spends a thousand on me! If she did not care about me, two words would comprehend my future - death and hell. Existence, after losing her, would be hell. Edgar Linton couldn't love as much in eighty years as I could in a day. And Catherine has a heart as deep as I have: he is no dearer to her than her dog. How could he be?'
'Catherine and Edgar are as fond of each other as any two people can be,' cried Isabella. 'I won't hear my brother depreciated in silence!'
'Your brother is wondrous fond of you too, isn't he?' observed Heathcliff scornfully. 'He turns you adrift on the world.'
'I didn't tell him what I suffer,' she replied.
'You have written, then, have you?'
'I did write to say that I was married - you saw the note.'
'And nothing since?'
'No.'
'My young lady is looking sadly the worse for her change of condition,' I remarked. 'Somebody's love comes short in her case, obviously.'
'Her own,' said Heathcliff. 'She degenerates into a mere slut! She tired of trying to please me uncommonly early. You'd hardly credit it, but the very morrow of our wedding she was weeping to go home. However, I'll take care she does not disgrace me by rambling abroad.'
'Well, sir,' returned I, 'consider that Mrs. Heathcliff is accustomed to be looked after and waited on. You must let her have a maid, and you must treat her kindly. You cannot doubt that she feels strong attachments, or she wouldn't have abandoned the friends and comforts of her former home to live with you in this wilderness.'
'She abandoned them under a delusion,' he answered; 'picturing in me a hero of romance. I can hardly regard her as a rational creature, so obstinately has she cherished false impressions of me. But I think she begins to know me: I don't see the silly smiles and grimaces that provoked me at first; and she no longer thinks I love her. I believed, at one time, no lesson could teach her that!
'And yet it is poorly learnt; for this morning she announced, as a piece of appalling intelligence, that I had actually succeeded in making her hate me! Are you sure you hate me, Isabella? If I let you alone for half a day, won't you come sighing and wheedling to me again? I don't care who knows that the passion was wholly on one side: I never lied about it. She cannot accuse me of showing one bit of deceitful softness. The first thing she saw me do, on leaving the Grange, was to hang her little dog; and when she pleaded for it, I said I wished I could hang every being belonging to her, except one: possibly she took that exception for herself. But no brutality disgusted her: I suppose she admires it, as long as she is safe from injury!
'Now, was it not the depth of absurdity for that pitiful, slavish, mean-minded creature to dream that I could love her? I never met with such an abject thing as she is. She even disgraces the name of Linton; and I've run out of ideas to see what she could endure, and still creep shamefully cringing back! But tell her brother that I keep strictly within the limits of the law. I have not given her the slightest right to claim a separation; and, what's more, she'd thank nobody for dividing us. If she desired to go, she might: the nuisance of her presence outweighs the pleasure of tormenting her!'
'Mr. Heathcliff,' said I, 'this is the talk of a madman. Your wife, most likely, is convinced you are mad; and, for that reason, she has borne with you: but now that you say she may go, she'll doubtless do so. You are not so bewitched, ma'am, are you, as to remain with him of your own accord?'
'Take care, Ellen!' answered Isabella, her eyes sparkling angrily. 'Don't believe a single word he speaks. He's a lying fiend! a monster, not a human being! I've been told I might leave him before; and I've made the attempt, but I dare not repeat it! Only, Ellen, promise you'll not mention this conversation to my brother or Catherine. Heathcliff wishes to provoke Edgar: he says he has married me to obtain power over him; but I'll die first! I just pray that he may forget his diabolical prudence and kill me! The single pleasure I can imagine is to die, or to see him dead!'
'That will do!' said Heathcliff. 'If you are called upon in a court of law, you'll remember her language, Nelly! You're not fit to be your own guardian, Isabella, and I, being your legal protector, must keep you in my custody. Go upstairs; I have something to say to Ellen Dean in private. Upstairs, child!'
He thrust her from the room; and returned muttering, 'I have no pity! I have no pity! The more the worms writhe, the more I yearn to crush out their entrails! It is a moral teething; and I grind with greater energy in proportion to the increase of pain.'
'Do you understand what the word pity means?' I said, taking up my bonnet. 'Did you ever feel a touch of it in your life?'
'Put that down!' he interrupted. 'You are not going yet. You must help me to see Catherine, and that without delay. I swear that I mean no harm: I don't desire to cause any disturbance, or to insult Mr. Linton; I only wish to hear from herself how she is, and to ask if anything that I could do would be of use to her. Last night I was in the Grange garden six hours, and I'll return there to-night; and haunt the place till I find an opportunity of entering. If Edgar Linton meets me, I shall knock him down. If his servants oppose me, I shall threaten them off with pistols. But wouldn't it be better to prevent my meeting them? And you could do it so easily. I'd warn you when I came, and then you might let me in as soon as she was alone, and watch till I departed, your conscience quite calm: you would be preventing mischief.'
I protested, and told him it would be treacherous, and cruel and selfish. 'Mrs. Linton is all nerves, and she couldn't bear the surprise,' I said. 'Don't persist, sir! or I shall be obliged to inform my master of your plans; and he'll take measures to secure his house against you!'
'In that case I'll take measures to secure you, woman!' exclaimed Heathcliff. 'You shall not leave Wuthering Heights till tomorrow. It is foolish to assert that Catherine could not bear to see me; and as to surprising her, I don't desire it: you must prepare her. You say she never mentions my name. To whom should she mention me if I am a forbidden topic in the house? She thinks you are all spies for her husband. I've no doubt she's in hell among you! You say she is often restless, and her mind is unsettled. How the devil could it be otherwise in her frightful isolation? And that insipid, paltry creature attending her from duty and humanity! He might as well plant an oak in a flower-pot, and expect it to thrive, as imagine he can restore her to vigour in the soil of his shallow cares! Am I to fight my way to Catherine? Or will you be my friend, and do what I request? Decide!'
Well, Mr. Lockwood, I argued and refused him fifty times; but in the end he forced me to agree to carry a letter to my mistress. If she consented, I promised to let him know of Linton's next absence from home, when he might come and visit.
Was it right or wrong? I fear it was wrong, though I thought it might prevent another explosion, and even create a favourable crisis in Catherine's mental illness. Then I remembered Mr. Edgar's stern rebuke of my carrying tales; and I vowed that this betrayal of trust should be my last. My journey homeward was sadder than my journey thither; and many misgivings I had, before I put the message into Mrs. Linton's hand.
But here is Dr. Kenneth; I'll go down, and tell him how much better you are. My history is dree, as we say, and will serve to while away another morning.
Dree, and dreary! I reflected as the good woman descended to receive the doctor: and not exactly of the kind which I should have chosen to amuse me. But never mind! I'll extract wholesome medicines from Mrs. Dean's bitter herbs; and let me beware of the fascination that lurks in Catherine Heathcliff's brilliant eyes. I should be in a fix if I surrendered my heart to that young person, and the daughter turned out a second edition of the mother.