No More Learning

On one side of the
road rose a high, rough bank, where hazels and stunted oaks, with their
roots half exposed, held uncertain tenure: the soil was too loose for the
latter; and strong winds had blown some nearly horizontal. In summer
Miss Catherine delighted to climb along these trunks, and sit in the
branches, swinging twenty feet above the ground; and I, pleased with her
agility and her light, childish heart, still considered it proper to
scold every time I caught her at such an elevation, but so that she knew
there was no necessity for descending. From dinner to tea she would lie
in her breeze-rocked cradle, doing nothing except singing old songs--my
nursery lore--to herself, or watching the birds, joint tenants, feed and
entice their young ones to fly: or nestling with closed lids, half
thinking, half dreaming, happier than words can express.

'Look, Miss! ' I exclaimed, pointing to a nook under the roots of one
twisted tree. 'Winter is not here yet. There's a little flower up
yonder, the last bud from the multitude of bluebells that clouded those
turf steps in July with a lilac mist. Will you clamber up, and pluck it
to show to papa? ' Cathy stared a long time at the lonely blossom
trembling in its earthy shelter, and replied, at length--'No, I'll not
touch it: but it looks melancholy, does it not, Ellen? '

'Yes,' I observed, 'about as starved and suckless as you: your cheeks are
bloodless; let us take hold of hands and run. You're so low, I daresay I
shall keep up with you. '

'No,' she repeated, and continued sauntering on, pausing at intervals to
muse over a bit of moss, or a tuft of blanched grass, or a fungus
spreading its bright orange among the heaps of brown foliage; and, ever
and anon, her hand was lifted to her averted face.

'Catherine, why are you crying, love? ' I asked, approaching and putting
my arm over her shoulder. 'You mustn't cry because papa has a cold; be
thankful it is nothing worse. '

She now put no further restraint on her tears; her breath was stifled by
sobs.

'Oh, it will be something worse,' she said. 'And what shall I do when
papa and you leave me, and I am by myself? I can't forget your words,
Ellen; they are always in my ear. How life will be changed, how dreary
the world will be, when papa and you are dead. '

'None can tell whether you won't die before us,' I replied. 'It's wrong
to anticipate evil. We'll hope there are years and years to come before
any of us go: master is young, and I am strong, and hardly forty-five. My
mother lived till eighty, a canty dame to the last. And suppose Mr.
Linton were spared till he saw sixty, that would be more years than you
have counted, Miss. And would it not be foolish to mourn a calamity
above twenty years beforehand? '

'But Aunt Isabella was younger than papa,' she remarked, gazing up with
timid hope to seek further consolation.

'Aunt Isabella had not you and me to nurse her,' I replied. 'She wasn't
as happy as Master: she hadn't as much to live for. All you need do, is
to wait well on your father, and cheer him by letting him see you
cheerful; and avoid giving him anxiety on any subject: mind that, Cathy!
I'll not disguise but you might kill him if you were wild and reckless,
and cherished a foolish, fanciful affection for the son of a person who
would be glad to have him in his grave; and allowed him to discover that
you fretted over the separation he has judged it expedient to make. '

'I fret about nothing on earth except papa's illness,' answered my
companion. 'I care for nothing in comparison with papa. And I'll
never--never--oh, never, while I have my senses, do an act or say a word
to vex him. I love him better than myself, Ellen; and I know it by this:
I pray every night that I may live after him; because I would rather be
miserable than that he should be: that proves I love him better than
myself. '

'Good words,' I replied. 'But deeds must prove it also; and after he is
well, remember you don't forget resolutions formed in the hour of fear. '

As we talked, we neared a door that opened on the road; and my young
lady, lightening into sunshine again, climbed up and seated herself on
the top of the wall, reaching over to gather some hips that bloomed
scarlet on the summit branches of the wild-rose trees shadowing the
highway side: the lower fruit had disappeared, but only birds could touch
the upper, except from Cathy's present station. In stretching to pull
them, her hat fell off; and as the door was locked, she proposed
scrambling down to recover it. I bid her be cautious lest she got a
fall, and she nimbly disappeared. But the return was no such easy
matter: the stones were smooth and neatly cemented, and the rose-bushes
and black-berry stragglers could yield no assistance in re-ascending. I,
like a fool, didn't recollect that, till I heard her laughing and
exclaiming--'Ellen! you'll have to fetch the key, or else I must run
round to the porter's lodge. I can't scale the ramparts on this side! '

'Stay where you are,' I answered; 'I have my bundle of keys in my pocket:
perhaps I may manage to open it; if not, I'll go. '

Catherine amused herself with dancing to and fro before the door, while I
tried all the large keys in succession. I had applied the last, and
found that none would do; so, repeating my desire that she would remain
there, I was about to hurry home as fast as I could, when an approaching
sound arrested me. It was the trot of a horse; Cathy's dance stopped
also.

'Who is that? ' I whispered.

'Ellen, I wish you could open the door,' whispered back my companion,
anxiously.

'Ho, Miss Linton! ' cried a deep voice (the rider's), 'I'm glad to meet
you. Don't be in haste to enter, for I have an explanation to ask and
obtain. '

'I sha'n't speak to you, Mr. Heathcliff,' answered Catherine. 'Papa says
you are a wicked man, and you hate both him and me; and Ellen says the
same. '

'That is nothing to the purpose,' said Heathcliff. (He it was. ) 'I
don't hate my son, I suppose; and it is concerning him that I demand your
attention. Yes; you have cause to blush. Two or three months since,
were you not in the habit of writing to Linton? making love in play, eh?
You deserved, both of you, flogging for that! You especially, the elder;
and less sensitive, as it turns out. I've got your letters, and if you
give me any pertness I'll send them to your father. I presume you grew
weary of the amusement and dropped it, didn't you? Well, you dropped
Linton with it into a Slough of Despond. He was in earnest: in love,
really. As true as I live, he's dying for you; breaking his heart at
your fickleness: not figuratively, but actually. Though Hareton has made
him a standing jest for six weeks, and I have used more serious measures,
and attempted to frighten him out of his idiotcy, he gets worse daily;
and he'll be under the sod before summer, unless you restore him! '

'How can you lie so glaringly to the poor child? ' I called from the
inside. 'Pray ride on! How can you deliberately get up such paltry
falsehoods? Miss Cathy, I'll knock the lock off with a stone: you won't
believe that vile nonsense. You can feel in yourself it is impossible
that a person should die for love of a stranger. '

'I was not aware there were eavesdroppers,' muttered the detected
villain. 'Worthy Mrs. Dean, I like you, but I don't like your
double-dealing,' he added aloud. 'How could _you_ lie so glaringly as to
affirm I hated the "poor child"? and invent bugbear stories to terrify
her from my door-stones? Catherine Linton (the very name warms me), my
bonny lass, I shall be from home all this week; go and see if have not
spoken truth: do, there's a darling! Just imagine your father in my
place, and Linton in yours; then think how you would value your careless
lover if he refused to stir a step to comfort you, when your father
himself entreated him; and don't, from pure stupidity, fall into the
same error. I swear, on my salvation, he's going to his grave, and none
but you can save him! '

The lock gave way and I issued out.

'I swear Linton is dying,' repeated Heathcliff, looking hard at me. 'And
grief and disappointment are hastening his death. Nelly, if you won't
let her go, you can walk over yourself. But I shall not return till this
time next week; and I think your master himself would scarcely object to
her visiting her cousin. '

'Come in,' said I, taking Cathy by the arm and half forcing her to
re-enter; for she lingered, viewing with troubled eyes the features of
the speaker, too stern to express his inward deceit.

He pushed his horse close, and, bending down, observed--'Miss Catherine,
I'll own to you that I have little patience with Linton; and Hareton and
Joseph have less. I'll own that he's with a harsh set. He pines for
kindness, as well as love; and a kind word from you would be his best
medicine. Don't mind Mrs. Dean's cruel cautions; but be generous, and
contrive to see him. He dreams of you day and night, and cannot be
persuaded that you don't hate him, since you neither write nor call. '

I closed the door, and rolled a stone to assist the loosened lock in
holding it; and spreading my umbrella, I drew my charge underneath: for
the rain began to drive through the moaning branches of the trees, and
warned us to avoid delay. Our hurry prevented any comment on the
encounter with Heathcliff, as we stretched towards home; but I divined
instinctively that Catherine's heart was clouded now in double darkness.
Her features were so sad, they did not seem hers: she evidently regarded
what she had heard as every syllable true.

The master had retired to rest before we came in. Cathy stole to his
room to inquire how he was; he had fallen asleep. She returned, and
asked me to sit with her in the library. We took our tea together; and
afterwards she lay down on the rug, and told me not to talk, for she was
weary. I got a book, and pretended to read. As soon as she supposed me
absorbed in my occupation, she recommenced her silent weeping: it
appeared, at present, her favourite diversion. I suffered her to enjoy
it a while; then I expostulated: deriding and ridiculing all Mr.
Heathcliff's assertions about his son, as if I were certain she would
coincide. Alas! I hadn't skill to counteract the effect his account had
produced: it was just what he intended.

'You may be right, Ellen,' she answered; 'but I shall never feel at ease
till I know. And I must tell Linton it is not my fault that I don't
write, and convince him that I shall not change. '

What use were anger and protestations against her silly credulity? We
parted that night--hostile; but next day beheld me on the road to
Wuthering Heights, by the side of my wilful young mistress's pony. I
couldn't bear to witness her sorrow: to see her pale, dejected
countenance, and heavy eyes: and I yielded, in the faint hope that Linton
himself might prove, by his reception of us, how little of the tale was
founded on fact.




CHAPTER XXIII


The rainy night had ushered in a misty morning--half frost, half
drizzle--and temporary brooks crossed our path--gurgling 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.

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.

'Na--ay! ' he snarled, or rather screamed through his nose. 'Na--ay! yah
muh goa back whear yah coom frough. '

'Joseph! ' cried a peevish voice, simultaneously with me, from the inner
room. 'How often am I to call you? There are only a few red ashes now.
Joseph! come this moment. '

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's
tones, and entered.

'Oh, I hope you'll die in a garret, starved to death! ' said the boy,
mistaking our approach for that of his negligent attendant.

He stopped on observing his error: his cousin flew to him.

'Is that you, Miss Linton? ' he said, raising his head from the arm of the
great chair, in which he reclined. 'No--don't kiss me: it takes my
breath. Dear me! Papa said you would call,' continued he, after
recovering a little from Catherine's embrace; while she stood by looking
very contrite. 'Will you shut the door, if you please? you left it open;
and those--those _detestable_ creatures won't bring coals to the fire.
It's so cold! '

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.

'Well, Linton,' murmured Catherine, when his corrugated brow relaxed,
'are you glad to see me? Can I do you any good? '

'Why didn't you come before? ' he asked. 'You should have come, instead
of writing. It tired me dreadfully writing those long letters. I'd far
rather have talked to you. Now, I can neither bear to talk, nor anything
else. I wonder where Zillah is! Will you' (looking at me) 'step into
the kitchen and see? '

I had received no thanks for my other service; and being unwilling to run
to and fro at his behest, I replied--'Nobody is out there but Joseph. '

'I want to drink,' he exclaimed fretfully, turning away. 'Zillah is
constantly gadding off to Gimmerton since papa went: it's miserable! And
I'm obliged to come down here--they resolved never to hear me up-stairs. '

'Is your father attentive to you, Master Heathcliff? ' I asked, perceiving
Catherine to be checked in her friendly advances.

'Attentive? He makes them a little more attentive at least,' he cried.
'The wretches! Do you know, Miss Linton, that brute Hareton laughs at
me! I hate him! indeed, I hate them all: they are odious beings. '

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.

'And are you glad to see me? ' asked she, reiterating her former question
and pleased to detect the faint dawn of a smile.

'Yes, I am. It's something new to hear a voice like yours! ' he replied.
'But I have been vexed, because you wouldn't 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't
despise me, do you, Miss--? '

'I wish you would say Catherine, or Cathy,' interrupted my young lady.
'Despise you? No! Next to papa and Ellen, I love you better than
anybody living. I don't love Mr. Heathcliff, though; and I dare not come
when he returns: will he stay away many days? '

'Not many,' answered Linton; 'but 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'd not provoke me, and you'd always be ready to help
me, wouldn't you? '

'Yes,' said Catherine, stroking his long soft hair: 'if I could only get
papa's consent, I'd spend half my time with you. Pretty Linton! I wish
you were my brother. '

'And then you would like me as well as your father? ' observed he, more
cheerfully. 'But papa says you would love me better than him and all the
world, if you were my wife; so I'd rather you were that. '

'No, I should never love anybody better than papa,' she returned gravely.
'And 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. '

Linton denied that people ever hated their wives; but Cathy affirmed they
did, and, in her wisdom, instanced his own father's aversion to her aunt.
I endeavoured to stop her thoughtless tongue. I couldn't succeed till
everything she knew was out. Master Heathcliff, much irritated, asserted
her relation was false.

'Papa told me; and papa does not tell falsehoods,' she answered pertly.

'_My_ papa scorns yours! ' cried Linton. 'He calls him a sneaking fool. '

'Yours is a wicked man,' retorted Catherine; 'and 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. '

'She didn't leave him,' said the boy; 'you sha'n't contradict me. '

'She did,' cried my young lady.

'Well, I'll tell you something! ' said Linton. 'Your mother hated your
father: now then. '

'Oh! ' exclaimed Catherine, too enraged to continue.

'And she loved mine,' added he.

'You little liar! I hate you now! ' she panted, and her face grew red
with passion.

'She did! she did! ' 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.

'Hush, Master Heathcliff! ' I said; 'that's your father's tale, too, I
suppose. '

'It isn't: you hold your tongue! ' he answered. 'She did, she did,
Catherine! she did, she did! '

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.

'How do you feel now, Master Heathcliff? ' I inquired, after waiting ten
minutes.

'I wish _she_ felt as I do,' he replied: 'spiteful, cruel thing! Hareton
never touches me: he never struck me in his life. And I was better
to-day: and there--' his voice died in a whimper.

'_I_ didn't strike you! ' muttered Cathy, chewing her lip to prevent
another burst of emotion.

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.

'I'm sorry I hurt you, Linton,' she said at length, racked beyond
endurance. 'But I couldn't have been hurt by that little push, and I had
no idea that you could, either: you're not much, are you, Linton? Don't
let me go home thinking I've done you harm. Answer! speak to me. '

'I can't speak to you,' he murmured; 'you've hurt me so that I shall lie
awake all night choking with this cough. If you had it you'd know what
it was; but _you'll_ be comfortably asleep while I'm in agony, and nobody
near me. I wonder how you would like to pass those fearful nights! ' And
he began to wail aloud, for very pity of himself.

'Since you are in the habit of passing dreadful nights,' I said, 'it
won't be Miss who spoils your ease: you'd be the same had she never come.
However, she shall not disturb you again; and perhaps you'll get quieter
when we leave you. '

'Must I go? ' asked Catherine dolefully, bending over him. 'Do you want
me to go, Linton? '

'You can't alter what you've done,' he replied pettishly, shrinking from
her, 'unless you alter it for the worse by teasing me into a fever. '

'Well, then, I must go? ' she repeated.

'Let me alone, at least,' said he; 'I can't bear your talking. '

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.

'I shall lift him on to the settle,' I said, 'and he may roll about as he
pleases: we can't 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'll be glad to lie still. '

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.

'I can't do with that,' he said; 'it's not high enough. '

Catherine brought another to lay above it.

'That's too high,' murmured the provoking thing.

'How must I arrange it, then? ' she asked despairingly.

He twined himself up to her, as she half knelt by the settle, and
converted her shoulder into a support.

'No, that won't do,' I said. 'You'll be content with the cushion, Master
Heathcliff. Miss has wasted too much time on you already: we cannot
remain five minutes longer. '

'Yes, yes, we can! ' replied Cathy. 'He's good and patient now. He's
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't come, if I have
hurt you. '

'You must come, to cure me,' he answered. 'You 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--was I? '

'But you've made yourself ill by crying and being in a passion. --I didn't
do it all,' said his cousin. 'However, we'll be friends now. And you
want me: you would wish to see me sometimes, really? '

'I told you I did,' he replied impatiently. 'Sit on the settle and let
me lean on your knee. That's as mamma used to do, whole afternoons
together. Sit quite still and don't talk: but you may sing a song, if
you can sing; or you may say a nice long interesting ballad--one of those
you promised to teach me; or a story. I'd rather have a ballad, though:
begin. '

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.

'And to-morrow, Catherine, will you be here to-morrow? ' asked young
Heathcliff, holding her frock as she rose reluctantly.

'No,' I answered, 'nor next day neither. ' She, however, gave a different
response evidently, for his forehead cleared as she stooped and whispered
in his ear.

'You won't go to-morrow, recollect, Miss! ' I commenced, when we were out
of the house. 'You are not dreaming of it, are you? '

She smiled.

'Oh, I'll take good care,' I continued: 'I'll have that lock mended, and
you can escape by no way else. '

'I can get over the wall,' she said laughing. 'The Grange is not a
prison, Ellen, and you are not my gaoler. And besides, I'm almost
seventeen: I'm a woman. And I'm certain Linton would recover quickly if
he had me to look after him. I'm older than he is, you know, and wiser:
less childish, am I not? And he'll soon do as I direct him, with some
slight coaxing. He's a pretty little darling when he's good. I'd make
such a pet of him, if he were mine. We should never quarrel, should we
after we were used to each other? Don't you like him, Ellen? '

'Like him! ' I exclaimed. 'The worst-tempered bit of a sickly slip that
ever struggled into its teens. Happily, as Mr. Heathcliff conjectured,
he'll not win twenty. I doubt whether he'll 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'd be. I'm glad you have no chance of having him for a
husband, Miss Catherine. '

My companion waxed serious at hearing this speech. To speak of his death
so regardlessly wounded her feelings.

'He's younger than I,' she answered, after a protracted pause of
meditation, 'and he ought to live the longest: he will--he must live as
long as I do. He's as strong now as when he first came into the north;
I'm positive of that. It's only a cold that ails him, the same as papa
has. You say papa will get better, and why shouldn't he? '

'Well, well,' I cried, 'after all, we needn't trouble ourselves; for
listen, Miss,--and mind, I'll keep my word,--if 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. '

'It has been revived,' muttered Cathy, sulkily.

'Must not be continued, then,' I said.

'We'll see,' was her reply, and she set off at a gallop, leaving me to
toil in the rear.

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 awhile 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.

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's 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'clock, 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 line borrowed from a cold ride across the moors,
I laid it to the charge of a hot fire in the library.




CHAPTER XXIV


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 up-stairs
in the dark. No Catherine could I discover up-stairs, 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.