No More Learning

Linton had not only
abjured his peevishness (though his spirits seemed still subdued by
Catherine's exuberance of vivacity), but he ventured no objection to her
taking Isabella with her to Wuthering Heights in the afternoon; and she
rewarded him with such a summer of sweetness and affection in return as
made the house a paradise for several days; both master and servants
profiting from the perpetual sunshine.

Heathcliff--Mr. Heathcliff I should say in future--used the liberty of
visiting at Thrushcross Grange cautiously, at first: he seemed estimating
how far its owner would bear his intrusion. Catherine, also, deemed it
judicious to moderate her expressions of pleasure in receiving him; and
he gradually established his right to be expected. He retained a great
deal of the reserve for which his boyhood was remarkable; and that served
to repress all startling demonstrations of feeling. My master's
uneasiness experienced a lull, and further circumstances diverted it into
another channel for a space.

His new source of trouble sprang from the not anticipated misfortune of
Isabella Linton evincing a sudden and irresistible attraction towards the
tolerated guest. She was at that time a charming young lady of eighteen;
infantile in manners, though possessed of keen wit, keen feelings, and a
keen temper, too, if irritated. Her brother, who loved her tenderly, was
appalled at this fantastic preference. Leaving aside the degradation of
an alliance with a nameless man, and the possible fact that his property,
in default of heirs male, might pass into such a one's power, he had
sense to comprehend Heathcliff's disposition: to know that, though his
exterior was altered, his mind was unchangeable and unchanged. And he
dreaded that mind: it revolted him: he shrank forebodingly from the idea
of committing Isabella to its keeping. He would have recoiled still more
had he been aware that her attachment rose unsolicited, and was bestowed
where it awakened no reciprocation of sentiment; for the minute he
discovered its existence he laid the blame on Heathcliff's deliberate
designing.

We had all remarked, during some time, that Miss Linton fretted and pined
over something. She grew cross and wearisome; snapping at and teasing
Catherine continually, at the imminent risk of exhausting her limited
patience. We excused her, to a certain extent, on the plea of
ill-health: she was dwindling and fading before our eyes. But one day,
when she had been peculiarly wayward, rejecting her breakfast,
complaining that the servants did not do what she told them; that the
mistress would allow her to be nothing in the house, and Edgar neglected
her; that she had caught a cold with the doors being left open, and we
let the parlour fire go out on purpose to vex her, with a hundred yet
more frivolous accusations, Mrs. Linton peremptorily insisted that she
should get to bed; and, having scolded her heartily, threatened to send
for the doctor. Mention of Kenneth caused her to exclaim, instantly,
that her health was perfect, and it was only Catherine's harshness which
made her unhappy.

'How can you say I am harsh, you naughty fondling? ' cried the mistress,
amazed at the unreasonable assertion. 'You are surely losing your
reason. When have I been harsh, tell me? '

'Yesterday,' sobbed Isabella, 'and now! '

'Yesterday! ' said her sister-in-law. 'On what occasion? '

'In our walk along the moor: you told me to ramble where I pleased, while
you sauntered on with Mr. Heathcliff! '

'And that's your notion of harshness? ' said Catherine, laughing. 'It was
no hint that your company was superfluous? We didn't care whether you
kept with us or not; I merely thought Heathcliff's talk would have
nothing entertaining for your ears. '

'Oh, no,' wept the young lady; 'you wished me away, because you knew I
liked to be there! '

'Is she sane? ' asked Mrs. Linton, appealing to me. 'I'll repeat our
conversation, word for word, Isabella; and you point out any charm it
could have had for you. '

'I don't mind the conversation,' she answered: 'I wanted to be with--'

'Well? ' said Catherine, perceiving her hesitate to complete the sentence.

'With him: and I won't be always sent off! ' she continued, kindling up.
'You are a dog in the manger, Cathy, and desire no one to be loved but
yourself! '

'You are an impertinent little monkey! ' exclaimed Mrs. Linton, in
surprise. 'But I'll not believe this idiotcy! It is impossible that you
can covet the admiration of Heathcliff--that you consider him an
agreeable person! I hope I have misunderstood you, Isabella? '

'No, you have not,' said the infatuated girl. 'I love him more than ever
you loved Edgar, and he might love me, if you would let him! '

'I wouldn't be you for a kingdom, then! ' Catherine declared,
emphatically: and she seemed to speak sincerely. 'Nelly, help me to
convince her of her madness. Tell her what Heathcliff is: an unreclaimed
creature, without refinement, without cultivation; an arid wilderness of
furze and whinstone. I'd as soon put that little canary into the park on
a winter's day, as recommend you to bestow your heart on him! It is
deplorable ignorance of his character, child, and nothing else, which
makes that dream enter your head. Pray, don't imagine that he conceals
depths of benevolence and affection beneath a stern exterior! He's not a
rough diamond--a pearl-containing oyster of a rustic: he's a fierce,
pitiless, wolfish man. I never say to him, "Let this or that enemy
alone, because it would be ungenerous or cruel to harm them;" I say, "Let
them alone, because _I_ should hate them to be wronged:" and he'd crush
you like a sparrow's egg, Isabella, if he found you a troublesome charge.
I know he couldn't love a Linton; and yet he'd be quite capable of
marrying your fortune and expectations: avarice is growing with him a
besetting sin. There's my picture: and I'm his friend--so much so, that
had he thought seriously to catch you, I should, perhaps, have held my
tongue, and let you fall into his trap. '

Miss Linton regarded her sister-in-law with indignation.

'For shame! for shame! ' she repeated, angrily. 'You are worse than
twenty foes, you poisonous friend! '

'Ah! you won't believe me, then? ' said Catherine. 'You think I speak
from wicked selfishness? '

'I'm certain you do,' retorted Isabella; 'and I shudder at you! '

'Good! ' cried the other. 'Try for yourself, if that be your spirit: I
have done, and yield the argument to your saucy insolence. '--

'And I must suffer for her egotism! ' she sobbed, as Mrs. Linton left the
room. 'All, all is against me: she has blighted my single consolation.
But she uttered falsehoods, didn't she? Mr. Heathcliff is not a fiend:
he has an honourable soul, and a true one, or how could he remember her? '

'Banish him from your thoughts, Miss,' I said. 'He's a bird of bad omen:
no mate for you. Mrs. Linton spoke strongly, and yet I can't contradict
her. She is better acquainted with his heart than I, or any one besides;
and she never would represent him as worse than he is. Honest people
don't hide their deeds. How has he been living? how has he got rich? why
is he staying at Wuthering Heights, the house of a man whom he abhors?
They say Mr. Earnshaw is worse and worse since he came. They sit up all
night together continually, and Hindley has been borrowing money on his
land, and does nothing but play and drink: I heard only a week ago--it
was Joseph who told me--I met him at Gimmerton: "Nelly," he said, "we's
hae a crowner's 'quest enow, at ahr folks'. One on 'em 's a'most getten
his finger cut off wi' hauding t' other fro' stickin' hisseln loike a
cawlf. That's maister, yeah knaw, 'at 's soa up o' going tuh t' grand
'sizes. He's noan feared o' t' bench o' judges, norther Paul, nur Peter,
nur John, nur Matthew, nor noan on 'em, not he! He fair likes--he langs
to set his brazened face agean 'em! And yon bonny lad Heathcliff, yah
mind, he's a rare 'un. He can girn a laugh as well 's onybody at a
raight divil's jest. Does he niver say nowt of his fine living amang us,
when he goes to t' Grange? This is t' way on 't:--up at sun-down: dice,
brandy, cloised shutters, und can'le-light till next day at noon: then,
t'fooil gangs banning und raving to his cham'er, makking dacent fowks dig
thur fingers i' thur lugs fur varry shame; un' the knave, why he can
caint his brass, un' ate, un' sleep, un' off to his neighbour's to gossip
wi' t' wife. I' course, he tells Dame Catherine how her fathur's goold
runs into his pocket, and her fathur's son gallops down t' broad road,
while he flees afore to oppen t' pikes! " Now, Miss Linton, Joseph is an
old rascal, but no liar; and, if his account of Heathcliff's conduct be
true, you would never think of desiring such a husband, would you? '

'You are leagued with the rest, Ellen! ' she replied. 'I'll not listen to
your slanders. What malevolence you must have to wish to convince me
that there is no happiness in the world! '

Whether she would have got over this fancy if left to herself, or
persevered in nursing it perpetually, I cannot say: she had little time
to reflect. The day after, there was a justice-meeting at the next town;
my master was obliged to attend; and Mr. Heathcliff, aware of his
absence, called rather earlier than usual. Catherine and Isabella were
sitting in the library, on hostile terms, but silent: the latter alarmed
at her recent indiscretion, and the disclosure she had made of her secret
feelings in a transient fit of passion; the former, on mature
consideration, really offended with her companion; and, if she laughed
again at her pertness, inclined to make it no laughing matter to her. She
did laugh as she saw Heathcliff pass the window. I was sweeping the
hearth, and I noticed a mischievous smile on her lips. Isabella,
absorbed in her meditations, or a book, remained till the door opened;
and it was too late to attempt an escape, which she would gladly have
done had it been practicable.

'Come in, that's right! ' exclaimed the mistress, gaily, pulling a chair
to the fire. 'Here are two people sadly in need of a third to thaw the
ice between them; and you are the very one we should both of us choose.
Heathcliff, I'm proud to show you, at last, somebody that dotes on you
more than myself. I expect you to feel flattered. Nay, it's not Nelly;
don't look at her! My poor little sister-in-law is breaking her heart by
mere contemplation of your physical and moral beauty. It lies in your
own power to be Edgar's brother! No, no, Isabella, you sha'n't run off,'
she continued, arresting, with feigned playfulness, the confounded girl,
who had risen indignantly. 'We were quarrelling like cats about you,
Heathcliff; and I was fairly beaten in protestations of devotion and
admiration: and, moreover, I was informed that if I would but have the
manners to stand aside, my rival, as she will have herself to be, would
shoot a shaft into your soul that would fix you for ever, and send my
image into eternal oblivion! '

'Catherine! ' said Isabella, calling up her dignity, and disdaining to
struggle from the tight grasp that held her, 'I'd thank you to adhere to
the truth and not slander me, even in joke! Mr. Heathcliff, be kind
enough to bid this friend of yours release me: she forgets that you and I
are not intimate acquaintances; and what amuses her is painful to me
beyond expression. '

As the guest answered nothing, but took his seat, and looked thoroughly
indifferent what sentiments she cherished concerning him, she turned and
whispered an earnest appeal for liberty to her tormentor.

'By no means! ' cried Mrs. Linton in answer. 'I won't be named a dog in
the manger again. You _shall_ stay: now then! Heathcliff, why don't you
evince satisfaction at my pleasant news? Isabella swears that the love
Edgar has for me is nothing to that she entertains for you. I'm sure she
made some speech of the kind; did she not, Ellen? And she has fasted
ever since the day before yesterday's walk, from sorrow and rage that I
despatched her out of your society under the idea of its being
unacceptable. '

'I think you belie her,' said Heathcliff, twisting his chair to face
them. 'She wishes to be out of my society now, at any rate! '

And he stared hard at the object of discourse, as one might do at a
strange repulsive animal: a centipede from the Indies, for instance,
which curiosity leads one to examine in spite of the aversion it raises.
The poor thing couldn't bear that; she grew white and red in rapid
succession, and, while tears beaded her lashes, bent the strength of her
small fingers to loosen the firm clutch of Catherine; and perceiving that
as fast as she raised one finger off her arm another closed down, and she
could not remove the whole together, she began to make use of her nails;
and their sharpness presently ornamented the detainer's with crescents of
red.

'There's a tigress! ' exclaimed Mrs. Linton, setting her free, and shaking
her hand with pain. 'Begone, for God's sake, and hide your vixen face!
How foolish to reveal those talons to him. Can't you fancy the
conclusions he'll draw? Look, Heathcliff! they are instruments that will
do execution--you must beware of your eyes. '

'I'd wrench them off her fingers, if they ever menaced me,' he answered,
brutally, when the door had closed after her. 'But what did you mean by
teasing the creature in that manner, Cathy? You were not speaking the
truth, were you? '

'I assure you I was,' she returned. 'She has been dying for your sake
several weeks, and raving about you this morning, and pouring forth a
deluge of abuse, because I represented your failings in a plain light,
for the purpose of mitigating her adoration. But don't notice it
further: I wished to punish her sauciness, that's all. I like her too
well, my dear Heathcliff, to let you absolutely seize and devour her up. '

'And I like her too ill to attempt it,' said he, 'except in a very
ghoulish fashion. You'd hear of odd things if I lived alone with that
mawkish, waxen face: the most ordinary would be painting on its white the
colours of the rainbow, and turning the blue eyes black, every day or
two: they detestably resemble Linton's. '

'Delectably! ' observed Catherine. 'They are dove's eyes--angel's! '

'She's her brother's heir, is she not? ' he asked, after a brief silence.

'I should be sorry to think so,' returned his companion. 'Half a dozen
nephews shall erase her title, please heaven! Abstract your mind from
the subject at present: you are too prone to covet your neighbour's
goods; remember _this_ neighbour's goods are mine. '

'If they were _mine_, they would be none the less that,' said Heathcliff;
'but though Isabella Linton may be silly, she is scarcely mad; and, in
short, we'll dismiss the matter, as you advise. '

From their tongues they did dismiss it; and Catherine, probably, from her
thoughts. The other, I felt certain, recalled it often in the course of
the evening. I saw him smile to himself--grin rather--and lapse into
ominous musing whenever Mrs. Linton had occasion to be absent from the
apartment.

I determined to watch his movements. My heart invariably cleaved to the
master's, in preference to Catherine's side: with reason I imagined, for
he was kind, and trustful, and honourable; and she--she could not be
called _opposite_, yet she seemed to allow herself such wide latitude,
that I had little faith in her principles, and still less sympathy for
her feelings. I wanted something to happen which might have the effect
of freeing both Wuthering Heights and the Grange of Mr. Heathcliff
quietly; leaving us as we had been prior to his advent. His visits were
a continual nightmare to me; and, I suspected, to my master also. His
abode at the Heights was an oppression past explaining. I felt that God
had forsaken the stray sheep there to its own wicked wanderings, and an
evil beast prowled between it and the fold, waiting his time to spring
and destroy.




CHAPTER XI


Sometimes, while meditating on these things in solitude, I've got up in a
sudden terror, and put on my bonnet to go see how all was at the farm.
I've persuaded my conscience that it was a duty to warn him how people
talked regarding his ways; and then I've recollected his confirmed bad
habits, and, hopeless of benefiting him, have flinched from re-entering
the dismal house, doubting if I could bear to be taken at my word.

One time I passed the old gate, going out of my way, on a journey to
Gimmerton. It was about the period that my narrative has reached: a
bright frosty afternoon; the ground bare, and the road hard and dry. I
came to a stone where the highway branches off on to the moor at your
left hand; a rough sand-pillar, with the letters W. H. cut on its north
side, on the east, G. , and on the south-west, T. G. It serves as a
guide-post to the Grange, the Heights, and village. The sun shone yellow
on its grey head, reminding me of summer; and I cannot say why, but all
at once a gush of child's sensations flowed into my heart. Hindley and I
held it a favourite spot twenty years before. I gazed long at the
weather-worn block; and, stooping down, perceived a hole near the bottom
still full of snail-shells and pebbles, which we were fond of storing
there with more perishable things; and, as fresh as reality, it appeared
that I beheld my early playmate seated on the withered turf: his dark,
square head bent forward, and his little hand scooping out the earth
with a piece of slate. 'Poor Hindley! ' I exclaimed, involuntarily. I
started: my bodily eye was cheated into a momentary belief that the
child lifted its face and stared straight into mine! It vanished in a
twinkling; but immediately I felt an irresistible yearning to be at the
Heights. Superstition urged me to comply with this impulse: supposing he
should be dead! I thought--or should die soon! --supposing it were a sign
of death! The nearer I got to the house the more agitated I grew; and on
catching sight of it I trembled in every limb.
The apparition had
outstripped me: it stood looking through the gate. That was my first
idea on observing an elf-locked, brown-eyed boy setting his ruddy
countenance against the bars. Further reflection suggested this must be
Hareton, _my_ Hareton, not altered greatly since I left him, ten months
since.

'God bless thee, darling! ' I cried, forgetting instantaneously my
foolish fears. 'Hareton, it's Nelly! Nelly, thy nurse. '

He retreated out of arm's length, and picked up a large flint.

'I am come to see thy father, Hareton,' I added, guessing from the
action that Nelly, if she lived in his memory at all, was not recognised
as one with me.

He raised his missile to hurl it; I commenced a soothing speech, but
could not stay his hand: the stone struck my bonnet; and then ensued,
from the stammering lips of the little fellow, a string of curses, which,
whether he comprehended them or not, were delivered with practised
emphasis, and distorted his baby features into a shocking expression of
malignity. You may be certain this grieved more than angered me. Fit to
cry, I took an orange from my pocket, and offered it to propitiate him.
He hesitated, and then snatched it from my hold; as if he fancied I only
intended to tempt and disappoint him. I showed another, keeping it out
of his reach.

'Who has taught you those fine words, my bairn? ' I inquired. 'The
curate? '

'Damn the curate, and thee! Gie me that,' he replied.

'Tell us where you got your lessons, and you shall have it,' said I.
'Who's your master? '

'Devil daddy,' was his answer.

'And what do you learn from daddy? ' I continued.

He jumped at the fruit; I raised it higher. 'What does he teach you? ' I
asked.

'Naught,' said he, 'but to keep out of his gait. Daddy cannot bide me,
because I swear at him. '

'Ah! and the devil teaches you to swear at daddy? ' I observed.

'Ay--nay,' he drawled.

'Who, then? '

'Heathcliff. '

'I asked if he liked Mr. Heathcliff. '

'Ay! ' he answered again.

Desiring to have his reasons for liking him, I could only gather the
sentences--'I known't: he pays dad back what he gies to me--he curses
daddy for cursing me. He says I mun do as I will. '

'And the curate does not teach you to read and write, then? ' I pursued.

'No, I was told the curate should have his--teeth dashed down his--throat,
if he stepped over the threshold--Heathcliff had promised that! '

I put the orange in his hand, and bade him tell his father that a woman
called Nelly Dean was waiting to speak with him, by the garden gate. He
went up the walk, and entered the house; but, instead of Hindley,
Heathcliff appeared on the door-stones; and I turned directly and ran
down the road as hard as ever I could race, making no halt till I gained
the guide-post, and feeling as scared as if I had raised a goblin. This
is not much connected with Miss Isabella's affair: except that it urged
me to resolve further on mounting vigilant guard, and doing my utmost to
check the spread of such bad influence at the Grange: even though I
should wake a domestic storm, by thwarting Mrs. Linton's pleasure.

The next time Heathcliff came my young lady chanced to be feeding some
pigeons in the court. She had never spoken a word to her sister-in-law
for three days; but she had likewise dropped her fretful complaining, and
we found it a great comfort. Heathcliff had not the habit of bestowing a
single unnecessary civility on Miss Linton, I knew. Now, as soon as he
beheld her, his first precaution was to take a sweeping survey of the
house-front. I was standing by the kitchen-window, but I drew out of
sight. He then stepped across the pavement to her, and said something:
she seemed embarrassed, and desirous of getting away; to prevent it, he
laid his hand on her arm. She averted her face: he apparently put some
question which she had no mind to answer. There was another rapid glance
at the house, and supposing himself unseen, the scoundrel had the
impudence to embrace her.

'Judas! Traitor! ' I ejaculated. 'You are a hypocrite, too, are you? A
deliberate deceiver. '

'Who is, Nelly? ' said Catherine's voice at my elbow: I had been
over-intent on watching the pair outside to mark her entrance.

'Your worthless friend! ' I answered, warmly: 'the sneaking rascal yonder.
Ah, he has caught a glimpse of us--he is coming in! I wonder will he
have the heart to find a plausible excuse for making love to Miss, when
he told you he hated her? '

Mrs. Linton saw Isabella tear herself free, and run into the garden; and
a minute after, Heathcliff opened the door. I couldn't withhold giving
some loose to my indignation; but Catherine angrily insisted on silence,
and threatened to order me out of the kitchen, if I dared to be so
presumptuous as to put in my insolent tongue.

'To hear you, people might think you were the mistress! ' she cried. 'You
want setting down in your right place! Heathcliff, what are you about,
raising this stir? I said you must let Isabella alone! --I beg you will,
unless you are tired of being received here, and wish Linton to draw the
bolts against you! '

'God forbid that he should try! ' answered the black villain. I detested
him just then. 'God keep him meek and patient! Every day I grow madder
after sending him to heaven! '

'Hush! ' said Catherine, shutting the inner door! 'Don't vex me. Why
have you disregarded my request? Did she come across you on purpose? '

'What is it to you? ' he growled. 'I have a right to kiss her, if she
chooses; and you have no right to object. I am not _your_ husband: _you_
needn't be jealous of me! '

'I'm not jealous of you,' replied the mistress; 'I'm jealous for you.
Clear your face: you sha'n't scowl at me! If you like Isabella, you
shall marry her. But do you like her? Tell the truth, Heathcliff!
There, you won't answer. I'm certain you don't. '

'And would Mr. Linton approve of his sister marrying that man? ' I
inquired.

'Mr. Linton should approve,' returned my lady, decisively.

'He might spare himself the trouble,' said Heathcliff: 'I could do as
well without his approbation. And as to you, Catherine, I have a mind to
speak a few words now, while we are at it. I want you to be aware that I
_know_ you have treated me infernally--infernally! Do you hear? And if
you flatter yourself that I don't perceive it, you are a fool; and if
you think I can be consoled by sweet words, you are an idiot: and if you
fancy I'll suffer unrevenged, I'll convince you of the contrary, in a
very little while! Meantime, thank you for telling me your
sister-in-law's secret: I swear I'll make the most of it. And stand you
aside! '

'What new phase of his character is this? ' exclaimed Mrs. Linton, in
amazement. 'I've treated you infernally--and you'll take your revenge!
How will you take it, ungrateful brute? How have I treated you
infernally? '

'I seek no revenge on you,' replied Heathcliff, less vehemently. 'That's
not the plan. The tyrant grinds down his slaves and they don't turn
against him; they crush those beneath them. You are welcome to torture
me to death for your amusement, only allow me to amuse myself a little in
the same style, and refrain from insult as much as you are able. Having
levelled my palace, don't erect a hovel and complacently admire your own
charity in giving me that for a home. If I imagined you really wished me
to marry Isabel, I'd cut my throat! '

'Oh, the evil is that I am _not_ jealous, is it? ' cried Catherine. 'Well,
I won't repeat my offer of a wife: it is as bad as offering Satan a lost
soul. Your bliss lies, like his, in inflicting misery. You prove it.
Edgar is restored from the ill-temper he gave way to at your coming; I
begin to be secure and tranquil; and you, restless to know us at peace,
appear resolved on exciting a quarrel. Quarrel with Edgar, if you
please, Heathcliff, and deceive his sister: you'll hit on exactly the
most efficient method of revenging yourself on me. '

The conversation ceased. Mrs. Linton sat down by the fire, flushed and
gloomy. The spirit which served her was growing intractable: she could
neither lay nor control it. He stood on the hearth with folded arms,
brooding on his evil thoughts; and in this position I left them to seek
the master, who was wondering what kept Catherine below so long.

'Ellen,' said he, when I entered, 'have you seen your mistress? '

'Yes; she's in the kitchen, sir,' I answered. 'She's sadly put out by
Mr. Heathcliff's behaviour: and, indeed, I do think it's time to arrange
his visits on another footing. There's harm in being too soft, and now
it's come to this--. ' And I related the scene in the court, and, as near
as I dared, the whole subsequent dispute. I fancied it could not be very
prejudicial to Mrs. Linton; unless she made it so afterwards, by assuming
the defensive for her guest. Edgar Linton had difficulty in hearing me
to the close. His first words revealed that he did not clear his wife of
blame.

'This is insufferable! ' he exclaimed. 'It is disgraceful that she should
own him for a friend, and force his company on me! Call me two men out
of the hall, Ellen. Catherine shall linger no longer to argue with the
low ruffian--I have humoured her enough. '

He descended, and bidding the servants wait in the passage, went,
followed by me, to the kitchen. Its occupants had recommenced their
angry discussion: Mrs. Linton, at least, was scolding with renewed
vigour; Heathcliff had moved to the window, and hung his head, somewhat
cowed by her violent rating apparently. He saw the master first, and
made a hasty motion that she should be silent; which she obeyed,
abruptly, on discovering the reason of his intimation.

'How is this? ' said Linton, addressing her; 'what notion of propriety
must you have to remain here, after the language which has been held to
you by that blackguard? I suppose, because it is his ordinary talk you
think nothing of it: you are habituated to his baseness, and, perhaps,
imagine I can get used to it too! '

'Have you been listening at the door, Edgar? ' asked the mistress, in a
tone particularly calculated to provoke her husband, implying both
carelessness and contempt of his irritation. Heathcliff, who had raised
his eyes at the former speech, gave a sneering laugh at the latter; on
purpose, it seemed, to draw Mr. Linton's attention to him. He succeeded;
but Edgar did not mean to entertain him with any high flights of passion.

'I've been so far forbearing with you, sir,' he said quietly; 'not that I
was ignorant of your miserable, degraded character, but I felt you were
only partly responsible for that; and Catherine wishing to keep up your
acquaintance, I acquiesced--foolishly. Your presence is a moral poison
that would contaminate the most virtuous: for that cause, and to prevent
worse consequences, I shall deny you hereafter admission into this house,
and give notice now that I require your instant departure. Three
minutes' delay will render it involuntary and ignominious.

Heathcliff measured the height and breadth of the speaker with an eye
full of derision.

'Cathy, this lamb of yours threatens like a bull! ' he said. 'It is in
danger of splitting its skull against my knuckles. By God! Mr. Linton,
I'm mortally sorry that you are not worth knocking down! '

My master glanced towards the passage, and signed me to fetch the men: he
had no intention of hazarding a personal encounter. I obeyed the hint;
but Mrs. Linton, suspecting something, followed; and when I attempted to
call them, she pulled me back, slammed the door to, and locked it.

'Fair means! ' she said, in answer to her husband's look of angry
surprise. 'If you have not courage to attack him, make an apology, or
allow yourself to be beaten. It will correct you of feigning more valour
than you possess. No, I'll swallow the key before you shall get it! I'm
delightfully rewarded for my kindness to each! After constant indulgence
of one's weak nature, and the other's bad one, I earn for thanks two
samples of blind ingratitude, stupid to absurdity! Edgar, I was
defending you and yours; and I wish Heathcliff may flog you sick, for
daring to think an evil thought of me! '

It did not need the medium of a flogging to produce that effect on the
master. He tried to wrest the key from Catherine's grasp, and for safety
she flung it into the hottest part of the fire; whereupon Mr. Edgar was
taken with a nervous trembling, and his countenance grew deadly pale. For
his life he could not avert that excess of emotion: mingled anguish and
humiliation overcame him completely. He leant on the back of a chair,
and covered his face.

'Oh, heavens! In old days this would win you knighthood! ' exclaimed Mrs.
Linton. 'We are vanquished! we are vanquished! Heathcliff would as soon
lift a finger at you as the king would march his army against a colony of
mice. Cheer up! you sha'n't be hurt! Your type is not a lamb, it's a
sucking leveret. '

'I wish you joy of the milk-blooded coward, Cathy! ' said her friend. 'I
compliment you on your taste. And that is the slavering, shivering thing
you preferred to me! I would not strike him with my fist, but I'd kick
him with my foot, and experience considerable satisfaction.