The rainy night had ushered in a misty morning\u2014half frost, half drizzle\u2014and temporary brooks crossed our path\u2014gurgling from the uplands. My feet were thoroughly wetted; I was cross and low; exactly the humour suited for making the most of these disagreeable things. We entered the farm-house by the kitchen way, to ascertain whether Mr. Heathcliff were really absent: because I put slight faith in his own affirmation.<\/p>\n
Joseph seemed sitting in a sort of elysium alone, beside a roaring fire; a quart of ale on the table near him, bristling with large pieces of toasted oat-cake; and his black, short pipe in his mouth. Catherine ran to the hearth to warm herself. I asked if the master was in? My question remained so long unanswered, that I thought the old man had grown deaf, and repeated it louder.<\/p>\n
\u201cNa\u2014ay!\u201d he snarled, or rather screamed through his nose. \u201cNa\u2014ay! yah muh goa back whear yah coom frough.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cJoseph!\u201d cried a peevish voice, simultaneously with me, from the inner room. \u201cHow often am I to call you? There are only a few red ashes now. Joseph! come this moment.\u201d<\/p>\n
Vigorous puffs, and a resolute stare into the grate, declared he had no ear for this appeal. The housekeeper and Hareton were invisible; one gone on an errand, and the other at his work, probably. We knew Linton\u2019s tones, and entered.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, I hope you\u2019ll die in a garret, starved to death!\u201d said the boy, mistaking our approach for that of his negligent attendant.<\/p>\n
He stopped on observing his error: his cousin flew to him.<\/p>\n
\u201cIs that you, Miss Linton?\u201d he said, raising his head from the arm of the great chair, in which he reclined. \u201cNo\u2014don\u2019t kiss me: it takes my breath. Dear me! Papa said you would call,\u201d continued he, after recovering a little from Catherine\u2019s embrace; while she stood by looking very contrite. \u201cWill you shut the door, if you please? you left it open; and those\u2014those detestable<\/i> creatures won\u2019t bring coals to the fire. It\u2019s so cold!\u201d<\/p>\n
I stirred up the cinders, and fetched a scuttleful myself. The invalid complained of being covered with ashes; but he had a tiresome cough, and looked feverish and ill, so I did not rebuke his temper.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, Linton,\u201d murmured Catherine, when his corrugated brow relaxed, \u201care you glad to see me? Can I do you any good?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWhy didn\u2019t you come before?\u201d he asked. \u201cYou should have come, instead of writing. It tired me dreadfully writing those long letters. I\u2019d far rather have talked to you. Now, I can neither bear to talk, nor anything else. I wonder where Zillah is! Will you\u201d (looking at me) \u201cstep into the kitchen and see?\u201d<\/p>\n
I had received no thanks for my other service; and being unwilling to run to and fro at his behest, I replied\u2014\u201cNobody is out there but Joseph.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI want to drink,\u201d he exclaimed fretfully, turning away. \u201cZillah is constantly gadding off to Gimmerton since papa went: it\u2019s miserable! And I\u2019m obliged to come down here\u2014they resolved never to hear me upstairs.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIs your father attentive to you, Master Heathcliff?\u201d I asked, perceiving Catherine to be checked in her friendly advances.<\/p>\n
\u201cAttentive? He makes them a little more attentive at least,\u201d he cried. \u201cThe wretches! Do you know, Miss Linton, that brute Hareton laughs at me! I hate him! indeed, I hate them all: they are odious beings.\u201d<\/p>\n
Cathy began searching for some water; she lighted on a pitcher in the dresser, filled a tumbler, and brought it. He bid her add a spoonful of wine from a bottle on the table; and having swallowed a small portion, appeared more tranquil, and said she was very kind.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd are you glad to see me?\u201d asked she, reiterating her former question and pleased to detect the faint dawn of a smile.<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, I am. It\u2019s something new to hear a voice like yours!\u201d he replied. \u201cBut I have been vexed, because you wouldn\u2019t come. And papa swore it was owing to me: he called me a pitiful, shuffling, worthless thing; and said you despised me; and if he had been in my place, he would be more the master of the Grange than your father by this time. But you don\u2019t despise me, do you, Miss\u2014?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI wish you would say Catherine, or Cathy,\u201d interrupted my young lady. \u201cDespise you? No! Next to papa and Ellen, I love you better than anybody living. I don\u2019t love Mr. Heathcliff, though; and I dare not come when he returns: will he stay away many days?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNot many,\u201d answered Linton; \u201cbut he goes on to the moors frequently, since the shooting season commenced; and you might spend an hour or two with me in his absence. Do say you will. I think I should not be peevish with you: you\u2019d not provoke me, and you\u2019d always be ready to help me, wouldn\u2019t you?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes,\u201d said Catherine, stroking his long soft hair: \u201cif I could only get papa\u2019s consent, I\u2019d spend half my time with you. Pretty Linton! I wish you were my brother.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd then you would like me as well as your father?\u201d observed he, more cheerfully. \u201cBut papa says you would love me better than him and all the world, if you were my wife; so I\u2019d rather you were that.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, I should never love anybody better than papa,\u201d she returned gravely. \u201cAnd people hate their wives, sometimes; but not their sisters and brothers: and if you were the latter, you would live with us, and papa would be as fond of you as he is of me.\u201d<\/p>\n
Linton denied that people ever hated their wives; but Cathy affirmed they did, and, in her wisdom, instanced his own father\u2019s aversion to her aunt. I endeavoured to stop her thoughtless tongue. I couldn\u2019t succeed till everything she knew was out. Master Heathcliff, much irritated, asserted her relation was false.<\/p>\n
\u201cPapa told me; and papa does not tell falsehoods,\u201d she answered pertly.<\/p>\n
\u201cMy<\/i> papa scorns yours!\u201d cried Linton. \u201cHe calls him a sneaking fool.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYours is a wicked man,\u201d retorted Catherine; \u201cand you are very naughty to dare to repeat what he says. He must be wicked to have made Aunt Isabella leave him as she did.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe didn\u2019t leave him,\u201d said the boy; \u201cyou sha\u2019n\u2019t contradict me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cShe did,\u201d cried my young lady.<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, I\u2019ll tell you something!\u201d said Linton. \u201cYour mother hated your father: now then.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cOh!\u201d exclaimed Catherine, too enraged to continue.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd she loved mine,\u201d added he.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou little liar! I hate you now!\u201d she panted, and her face grew red with passion.<\/p>\n
\u201cShe did! she did!\u201d sang Linton, sinking into the recess of his chair, and leaning back his head to enjoy the agitation of the other disputant, who stood behind.<\/p>\n
\u201cHush, Master Heathcliff!\u201d I said; \u201cthat\u2019s your father\u2019s tale, too, I suppose.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt isn\u2019t: you hold your tongue!\u201d he answered. \u201cShe did, she did, Catherine! she did, she did!\u201d<\/p>\n
Cathy, beside herself, gave the chair a violent push, and caused him to fall against one arm. He was immediately seized by a suffocating cough that soon ended his triumph. It lasted so long that it frightened even me. As to his cousin, she wept with all her might, aghast at the mischief she had done: though she said nothing. I held him till the fit exhausted itself. Then he thrust me away, and leant his head down silently. Catherine quelled her lamentations also, took a seat opposite, and looked solemnly into the fire.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow do you feel now, Master Heathcliff?\u201d I inquired, after waiting ten minutes.<\/p>\n
\u201cI wish she<\/i> felt as I do,\u201d he replied: \u201cspiteful, cruel thing! Hareton never touches me: he never struck me in his life. And I was better to-day: and there\u2014\u201d his voice died in a whimper.<\/p>\n
\u201cI<\/i> didn\u2019t strike you!\u201d muttered Cathy, chewing her lip to prevent another burst of emotion.<\/p>\n
He sighed and moaned like one under great suffering, and kept it up for a quarter of an hour; on purpose to distress his cousin apparently, for whenever he caught a stifled sob from her he put renewed pain and pathos into the inflexions of his voice.<\/p>\n
\u201cI\u2019m sorry I hurt you, Linton,\u201d she said at length, racked beyond endurance. \u201cBut I couldn\u2019t have been hurt by that little push, and I had no idea that you could, either: you\u2019re not much, are you, Linton? Don\u2019t let me go home thinking I\u2019ve done you harm. Answer! speak to me.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI can\u2019t speak to you,\u201d he murmured; \u201cyou\u2019ve hurt me so that I shall lie awake all night choking with this cough. If you had it you\u2019d know what it was; but you\u2019ll<\/i> be comfortably asleep while I\u2019m in agony, and nobody near me. I wonder how you would like to pass those fearful nights!\u201d And he began to wail aloud, for very pity of himself.<\/p>\n
\u201cSince you are in the habit of passing dreadful nights,\u201d I said, \u201cit won\u2019t be Miss who spoils your ease: you\u2019d be the same had she never come. However, she shall not disturb you again; and perhaps you\u2019ll get quieter when we leave you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cMust I go?\u201d asked Catherine dolefully, bending over him. \u201cDo you want me to go, Linton?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou can\u2019t alter what you\u2019ve done,\u201d he replied pettishly, shrinking from her, \u201cunless you alter it for the worse by teasing me into a fever.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, then, I must go?\u201d she repeated.<\/p>\n
\u201cLet me alone, at least,\u201d said he; \u201cI can\u2019t bear your talking.\u201d<\/p>\n
She lingered, and resisted my persuasions to departure a tiresome while; but as he neither looked up nor spoke, she finally made a movement to the door, and I followed. We were recalled by a scream. Linton had slid from his seat on to the hearthstone, and lay writhing in the mere perverseness of an indulged plague of a child, determined to be as grievous and harassing as it can. I thoroughly gauged his disposition from his behaviour, and saw at once it would be folly to attempt humouring him. Not so my companion: she ran back in terror, knelt down, and cried, and soothed, and entreated, till he grew quiet from lack of breath: by no means from compunction at distressing her.<\/p>\n
\u201cI shall lift him on to the settle,\u201d I said, \u201cand he may roll about as he pleases: we can\u2019t stop to watch him. I hope you are satisfied, Miss Cathy, that you are not the person to benefit him; and that his condition of health is not occasioned by attachment to you. Now, then, there he is! Come away: as soon as he knows there is nobody by to care for his nonsense, he\u2019ll be glad to lie still.\u201d<\/p>\n
She placed a cushion under his head, and offered him some water; he rejected the latter, and tossed uneasily on the former, as if it were a stone or a block of wood. She tried to put it more comfortably.<\/p>\n
\u201cI can\u2019t do with that,\u201d he said; \u201cit\u2019s not high enough.\u201d<\/p>\n
Catherine brought another to lay above it.<\/p>\n
\u201cThat\u2019s too high,\u201d murmured the provoking thing.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow must I arrange it, then?\u201d she asked despairingly.<\/p>\n
He twined himself up to her, as she half knelt by the settle, and converted her shoulder into a support.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo, that won\u2019t do,\u201d I said. \u201cYou\u2019ll be content with the cushion, Master Heathcliff. Miss has wasted too much time on you already: we cannot remain five minutes longer.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYes, yes, we can!\u201d replied Cathy. \u201cHe\u2019s good and patient now. He\u2019s beginning to think I shall have far greater misery than he will to-night, if I believe he is the worse for my visit: and then I dare not come again. Tell the truth about it, Linton; for I musn\u2019t come, if I have hurt you.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cYou must come, to cure me,\u201d he answered. \u201cYou ought to come, because you have hurt me: you know you have extremely! I was not as ill when you entered as I am at present\u2014was I?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cBut you\u2019ve made yourself ill by crying and being in a passion.\u2014I didn\u2019t do it all,\u201d said his cousin. \u201cHowever, we\u2019ll be friends now. And you want me: you would wish to see me sometimes, really?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI told you I did,\u201d he replied impatiently. \u201cSit on the settle and let me lean on your knee. That\u2019s as mamma used to do, whole afternoons together. Sit quite still and don\u2019t talk: but you may sing a song, if you can sing; or you may say a nice long interesting ballad\u2014one of those you promised to teach me; or a story. I\u2019d rather have a ballad, though: begin.\u201d<\/p>\n
Catherine repeated the longest she could remember. The employment pleased both mightily. Linton would have another, and after that another, notwithstanding my strenuous objections; and so they went on until the clock struck twelve, and we heard Hareton in the court, returning for his dinner.<\/p>\n
\u201cAnd to-morrow, Catherine, will you be here to-morrow?\u201d asked young Heathcliff, holding her frock as she rose reluctantly.<\/p>\n
\u201cNo,\u201d I answered, \u201cnor next day neither.\u201d She, however, gave a different response evidently, for his forehead cleared as she stooped and whispered in his ear.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou won\u2019t go to-morrow, recollect, Miss!\u201d I commenced, when we were out of the house. \u201cYou are not dreaming of it, are you?\u201d<\/p>\n
She smiled.<\/p>\n
\u201cOh, I\u2019ll take good care,\u201d I continued: \u201cI\u2019ll have that lock mended, and you can escape by no way else.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cI can get over the wall,\u201d she said laughing. \u201cThe Grange is not a prison, Ellen, and you are not my gaoler. And besides, I\u2019m almost seventeen: I\u2019m a woman. And I\u2019m certain Linton would recover quickly if he had me to look after him. I\u2019m older than he is, you know, and wiser: less childish, am I not? And he\u2019ll soon do as I direct him, with some slight coaxing. He\u2019s a pretty little darling when he\u2019s good. I\u2019d make such a pet of him, if he were mine. We should never quarrel, should we after we were used to each other? Don\u2019t you like him, Ellen?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cLike him!\u201d I exclaimed. \u201cThe worst-tempered bit of a sickly slip that ever struggled into its teens. Happily, as Mr. Heathcliff conjectured, he\u2019ll not win twenty. I doubt whether he\u2019ll see spring, indeed. And small loss to his family whenever he drops off. And lucky it is for us that his father took him: the kinder he was treated, the more tedious and selfish he\u2019d be. I\u2019m glad you have no chance of having him for a husband, Miss Catherine.\u201d<\/p>\n
My companion waxed serious at hearing this speech. To speak of his death so regardlessly wounded her feelings.<\/p>\n
\u201cHe\u2019s younger than I,\u201d she answered, after a protracted pause of meditation, \u201cand he ought to live the longest: he will\u2014he must live as long as I do. He\u2019s as strong now as when he first came into the north; I\u2019m positive of that. It\u2019s only a cold that ails him, the same as papa has. You say papa will get better, and why shouldn\u2019t he?\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cWell, well,\u201d I cried, \u201cafter all, we needn\u2019t trouble ourselves; for listen, Miss,\u2014and mind, I\u2019ll keep my word,\u2014if you attempt going to Wuthering Heights again, with or without me, I shall inform Mr. Linton, and, unless he allow it, the intimacy with your cousin must not be revived.\u201d<\/p>\n
\u201cIt has been revived,\u201d muttered Cathy, sulkily.<\/p>\n
\u201cMust not be continued, then,\u201d I said.<\/p>\n
\u201cWe\u2019ll see,\u201d was her reply, and she set off at a gallop, leaving me to toil in the rear.<\/p>\n
We both reached home before our dinner-time; my master supposed we had been wandering through the park, and therefore he demanded no explanation of our absence. As soon as I entered I hastened to change my soaked shoes and stockings; but sitting such a while at the Heights had done the mischief. On the succeeding morning I was laid up, and during three weeks I remained incapacitated for attending to my duties: a calamity never experienced prior to that period, and never, I am thankful to say, since.<\/p>\n
My little mistress behaved like an angel in coming to wait on me, and cheer my solitude; the confinement brought me exceedingly low. It is wearisome, to a stirring active body: but few have slighter reasons for complaint than I had. The moment Catherine left Mr. Linton\u2019s room she appeared at my bedside. Her day was divided between us; no amusement usurped a minute: she neglected her meals, her studies, and her play; and she was the fondest nurse that ever watched. She must have had a warm heart, when she loved her father so, to give so much to me. I said her days were divided between us; but the master retired early, and I generally needed nothing after six o\u2019clock, thus the evening was her own. Poor thing! I never considered what she did with herself after tea. And though frequently, when she looked in to bid me good-night, I remarked a fresh colour in her cheeks and a pinkness over her slender fingers, instead of fancying the hue borrowed from a cold ride across the moors, I laid it to the charge of a hot fire in the library.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":299,"menu_order":23,"template":"","meta":{"pb_show_title":"on","pb_short_title":"","pb_subtitle":"","pb_authors":[],"pb_section_license":""},"chapter-type":[48],"contributor":[],"license":[],"class_list":["post-46","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\/46","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\/46\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":173,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/wutheringheights\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapters\/46\/revisions\/173"}],"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\/46\/metadata\/"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/wutheringheights\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=46"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"chapter-type","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/wutheringheights\/wp-json\/pressbooks\/v2\/chapter-type?post=46"},{"taxonomy":"contributor","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/wutheringheights\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/contributor?post=46"},{"taxonomy":"license","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/pressbooks.library.torontomu.ca\/wutheringheights\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/license?post=46"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}