To obviate the danger of this threat being fulfilled, Mr. Linton commissioned me to take the boy home early, on Catherine\u2019s pony; and, said he\u2014\u201cAs we shall now have no influence over his destiny, good or bad, you must say nothing of where he is gone to my daughter: she cannot associate with him hereafter, and it is better for her to remain in ignorance of his proximity; lest she should be restless, and anxious to visit the Heights. Merely tell her his father sent for him suddenly, and he has been obliged to leave us.\u201d<\/p>\n
Linton was very reluctant to be roused from his bed at five o\u2019clock, and astonished to be informed that he must prepare for further travelling; but I softened off the matter by stating that he was going to spend some time with his father, Mr. Heathcliff, who wished to see him so much, he did not like to defer the pleasure till he should recover from his late journey.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy father!\u201d he cried, in strange perplexity. \u201cMamma never told me I had a father. Where does he live? I\u2019d rather stay with uncle.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe lives a little distance from the Grange,\u201d I replied; \u201cjust beyond those hills: not so far, but you may walk over here when you get hearty. And you should be glad to go home, and to see him. You must try to love him, as you did your mother, and then he will love you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut why have I not heard of him before?\u201d asked Linton. \u201cWhy didn\u2019t mamma and he live together, as other people do?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe had business to keep him in the north,\u201d I answered, \u201cand your mother\u2019s health required her to reside in the south.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd why didn\u2019t mamma speak to me about him?\u201d persevered the child. \u201cShe often talked of uncle, and I learnt to love him long ago. How am I to love papa? I don\u2019t know him.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, all children love their parents,\u201d I said. \u201cYour mother, perhaps, thought you would want to be with him if she mentioned him often to you. Let us make haste. An early ride on such a beautiful morning is much preferable to an hour\u2019s more sleep.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIs she<\/i> to go with us,\u201d he demanded, \u201cthe little girl I saw yesterday?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot now,\u201d replied I.<\/p>\n
\u201cIs uncle?\u201d he continued.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, I shall be your companion there,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
Linton sank back on his pillow and fell into a brown study.<\/p>\n
\u201cI won\u2019t go without uncle,\u201d he cried at length: \u201cI can\u2019t tell where you mean to take me.\u201d<\/p>\n
I attempted to persuade him of the naughtiness of showing reluctance to meet his father; still he obstinately resisted any progress towards dressing, and I had to call for my master\u2019s assistance in coaxing him out of bed. The poor thing was finally got off, with several delusive assurances that his absence should be short: that Mr. Edgar and Cathy would visit him, and other promises, equally ill-founded, which I invented and reiterated at intervals throughout the way. The pure heather-scented air, the bright sunshine, and the gentle canter of Minny, relieved his despondency after a while. He began to put questions concerning his new home, and its inhabitants, with greater interest and liveliness.<\/p>\n
\u201cIs Wuthering Heights as pleasant a place as Thrushcross Grange?\u201d he inquired, turning to take a last glance into the valley, whence a light mist mounted and formed a fleecy cloud on the skirts of the blue.<\/p>\n
\u201cIt is not so buried in trees,\u201d I replied, \u201cand it is not quite so large, but you can see the country beautifully all round; and the air is healthier for you\u2014fresher and drier. You will, perhaps, think the building old and dark at first; though it is a respectable house: the next best in the neighbourhood. And you will have such nice rambles on the moors. Hareton Earnshaw\u2014that is, Miss Cathy\u2019s other cousin, and so yours in a manner\u2014will show you all the sweetest spots; and you can bring a book in fine weather, and make a green hollow your study; and, now and then, your uncle may join you in a walk: he does, frequently, walk out on the hills.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd what is my father like?\u201d he asked. \u201cIs he as young and handsome as uncle?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s as young,\u201d said I; \u201cbut he has black hair and eyes, and looks sterner; and he is taller and bigger altogether. He\u2019ll not seem to you so gentle and kind at first, perhaps, because it is not his way: still, mind you, be frank and cordial with him; and naturally he\u2019ll be fonder of you than any uncle, for you are his own.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBlack hair and eyes!\u201d mused Linton. \u201cI can\u2019t fancy him. Then I am not like him, am I?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot much,\u201d I answered: not a morsel, I thought, surveying with regret the white complexion and slim frame of my companion, and his large languid eyes\u2014his mother\u2019s eyes, save that, unless a morbid touchiness kindled them a moment, they had not a vestige of her sparkling spirit.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow strange that he should never come to see mamma and me!\u201d he murmured. \u201cHas he ever seen me? If he has, I must have been a baby. I remember not a single thing about him!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy, Master Linton,\u201d said I, \u201cthree hundred miles is a great distance; and ten years seem very different in length to a grown-up person compared with what they do to you. It is probable Mr. Heathcliff proposed going from summer to summer, but never found a convenient opportunity; and now it is too late. Don\u2019t trouble him with questions on the subject: it will disturb him, for no good.\u201d<\/p>\n
The boy was fully occupied with his own cogitations for the remainder of the ride, till we halted before the farmhouse garden-gate. I watched to catch his impressions in his countenance. He surveyed the carved front and low-browed lattices, the straggling gooseberry-bushes and crooked firs, with solemn intentness, and then shook his head: his private feelings entirely disapproved of the exterior of his new abode. But he had sense to postpone complaining: there might be compensation within. Before he dismounted, I went and opened the door. It was half-past six; the family had just finished breakfast: the servant was clearing and wiping down the table. Joseph stood by his master\u2019s chair telling some tale concerning a lame horse; and Hareton was preparing for the hayfield.<\/p>\n
\u201cHallo, Nelly!\u201d said Mr. Heathcliff, when he saw me. \u201cI feared I should have to come down and fetch my property myself. You\u2019ve brought it, have you? Let us see what we can make of it.\u201d<\/p>\n
He got up and strode to the door: Hareton and Joseph followed in gaping curiosity. Poor Linton ran a frightened eye over the faces of the three.<\/p>\n
\u201cSure-ly,\u201d said Joseph after a grave inspection, \u201che\u2019s swopped wi\u2019 ye, Maister, an\u2019 yon\u2019s his lass!\u201d<\/p>\n
Heathcliff, having stared his son into an ague of confusion, uttered a scornful laugh.<\/p>\n
\u201cGod! what a beauty! what a lovely, charming thing!\u201d he exclaimed. \u201cHav\u2019n\u2019t they reared it on snails and sour milk, Nelly? Oh, damn my soul! but that\u2019s worse than I expected\u2014and the devil knows I was not sanguine!\u201d<\/p>\n
I bid the trembling and bewildered child get down, and enter. He did not thoroughly comprehend the meaning of his father\u2019s speech, or whether it were intended for him: indeed, he was not yet certain that the grim, sneering stranger was his father. But he clung to me with growing trepidation; and on Mr. Heathcliff\u2019s taking a seat and bidding him \u201ccome hither\u201d he hid his face on my shoulder and wept.<\/p>\n
\u201cTut, tut!\u201d said Heathcliff, stretching out a hand and dragging him roughly between his knees, and then holding up his head by the chin. \u201cNone of that nonsense! We\u2019re not going to hurt thee, Linton\u2014isn\u2019t that thy name? Thou art thy mother\u2019s child, entirely! Where is my share in thee, puling chicken?\u201d<\/p>\n
He took off the boy\u2019s cap and pushed back his thick flaxen curls, felt his slender arms and his small fingers; during which examination Linton ceased crying, and lifted his great blue eyes to inspect the inspector.<\/p>\n
\u201cDo you know me?\u201d asked Heathcliff, having satisfied himself that the limbs were all equally frail and feeble.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d said Linton, with a gaze of vacant fear.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou\u2019ve heard of me, I daresay?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d he replied again.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo! What a shame of your mother, never to waken your filial regard for me! You are my son, then, I\u2019ll tell you; and your mother was a wicked slut to leave you in ignorance of the sort of father you possessed. Now, don\u2019t wince, and colour up! Though it is something to see you have not white blood. Be a good lad; and I\u2019ll do for you. Nelly, if you be tired you may sit down; if not, get home again. I guess you\u2019ll report what you hear and see to the cipher at the Grange; and this thing won\u2019t be settled while you linger about it.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell,\u201d replied I, \u201cI hope you\u2019ll be kind to the boy, Mr. Heathcliff, or you\u2019ll not keep him long; and he\u2019s all you have akin in the wide world, that you will ever know\u2014remember.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019ll be very kind to him, you needn\u2019t fear,\u201d he said, laughing. \u201cOnly nobody else must be kind to him: I\u2019m jealous of monopolising his affection. And, to begin my kindness, Joseph, bring the lad some breakfast. Hareton, you infernal calf, begone to your work. Yes, Nell,\u201d he added, when they had departed, \u201cmy son is prospective owner of your place, and I should not wish him to die till I was certain of being his successor. Besides, he\u2019s mine<\/i>, and I want the triumph of seeing my<\/i> descendant fairly lord of their estates; my child hiring their children to till their fathers\u2019 lands for wages. That is the sole consideration which can make me endure the whelp: I despise him for himself, and hate him for the memories he revives! But that consideration is sufficient: he\u2019s as safe with me, and shall be tended as carefully as your master tends his own. I have a room upstairs, furnished for him in handsome style; I\u2019ve engaged a tutor, also, to come three times a week, from twenty miles\u2019 distance, to teach him what he pleases to learn. I\u2019ve ordered Hareton to obey him: and in fact I\u2019ve arranged everything with a view to preserve the superior and the gentleman in him, above his associates. I do regret, however, that he so little deserves the trouble: if I wished any blessing in the world, it was to find him a worthy object of pride; and I\u2019m bitterly disappointed with the whey-faced, whining wretch!\u201d<\/p>\n
While he was speaking, Joseph returned bearing a basin of milk-porridge, and placed it before Linton: who stirred round the homely mess with a look of aversion, and affirmed he could not eat it. I saw the old man-servant shared largely in his master\u2019s scorn of the child; though he was compelled to retain the sentiment in his heart, because Heathcliff plainly meant his underlings to hold him in honour.<\/p>\n
\u201cCannot ate it?\u201d repeated he, peering in Linton\u2019s face, and subduing his voice to a whisper, for fear of being overheard. \u201cBut Maister Hareton nivir ate naught else, when he wer a little \u2019un; and what wer gooid enough for him\u2019s gooid enough for ye, I\u2019s rayther think!\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI sha\u2019n\u2019t<\/i> eat it!\u201d answered Linton, snappishly. \u201cTake it away.\u201d<\/p>\n
Joseph snatched up the food indignantly, and brought it to us.<\/p>\n
\u201cIs there aught ails th\u2019 victuals?\u201d he asked, thrusting the tray under Heathcliff\u2019s nose.<\/p>\n
\u201cWhat should ail them?\u201d he said.<\/p>\n
\u201cWah!\u201d answered Joseph, \u201cyon dainty chap says he cannut ate \u2019em. But I guess it\u2019s raight! His mother wer just soa\u2014we wer a\u2019most too mucky to sow t\u2019 corn for makking her breead.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t mention his mother to me,\u201d said the master, angrily. \u201cGet him something that he can eat, that\u2019s all. What is his usual food, Nelly?\u201d<\/p>\n
I suggested boiled milk or tea; and the housekeeper received instructions to prepare some. Come, I reflected, his father\u2019s selfishness may contribute to his comfort. He perceives his delicate constitution, and the necessity of treating him tolerably. I\u2019ll console Mr. Edgar by acquainting him with the turn Heathcliff\u2019s humour has taken. Having no excuse for lingering longer, I slipped out, while Linton was engaged in timidly rebuffing the advances of a friendly sheep-dog. But he was too much on the alert to be cheated: as I closed the door, I heard a cry, and a frantic repetition of the words\u2014<\/p>\n
\u201cDon\u2019t leave me! I\u2019ll not stay here! I\u2019ll not stay here!\u201d<\/p>\n
Then the latch was raised and fell: they did not suffer him to come forth. I mounted Minny, and urged her to a trot; and so my brief guardianship ended.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":299,"menu_order":20,"template":"","meta":{"pb_show_title":"on","pb_short_title":"","pb_subtitle":"","pb_authors":[],"pb_section_license":""},"chapter-type":[48],"contributor":[],"license":[],"class_list":["post-43","chapter","type-chapter","status-publish","hentry","chapter-type-numberless"],"part":3,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/wutheringheights\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/43","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/wutheringheights\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/wutheringheights\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/chapter"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/wutheringheights\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/299"}],"version-history":[{"count":3,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/wutheringheights\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/43\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":170,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/wutheringheights\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/43\/revisions\/170"}],"part":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/wutheringheights\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/parts\/3"}],"metadata":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/wutheringheights\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/43\/metadata\/"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/wutheringheights\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=43"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"chapter-type","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/wutheringheights\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapter-type?post=43"},{"taxonomy":"contributor","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/wutheringheights\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/contributor?post=43"},{"taxonomy":"license","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/wutheringheights\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/license?post=43"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}