No More Learning

'That the two cousins may fall in love, and get
married. I'm acting generously to your master: his young chit has no
expectations, and should she second my wishes she'll be provided for at
once as joint successor with Linton. '

'If Linton died,' I answered, 'and his life is quite uncertain, Catherine
would be the heir. '

'No, she would not,' he said. 'There is no clause in the will to secure
it so: his property would go to me; but, to prevent disputes, I desire
their union, and am resolved to bring it about. '

'And I'm resolved she shall never approach your house with me again,' I
returned, as we reached the gate, where Miss Cathy waited our coming.

Heathcliff bade me be quiet; and, preceding us up the path, hastened to
open the door. My young lady gave him several looks, as if she could not
exactly make up her mind what to think of him; but now he smiled when he
met her eye, and softened his voice in addressing her; and I was foolish
enough to imagine the memory of her mother might disarm him from desiring
her injury. Linton stood on the hearth. He had been out walking in the
fields, for his cap was on, and he was calling to Joseph to bring him dry
shoes. He had grown tall of his age, still wanting some months of
sixteen. His features were pretty yet, and his eye and complexion
brighter than I remembered them, though with merely temporary lustre
borrowed from the salubrious air and genial sun.

'Now, who is that? ' asked Mr. Heathcliff, turning to Cathy. 'Can you
tell? '

'Your son? ' she said, having doubtfully surveyed, first one and then the
other.

'Yes, yes,' answered he: 'but is this the only time you have beheld him?
Think! Ah! you have a short memory. Linton, don't you recall your
cousin, that you used to tease us so with wishing to see? '

'What, Linton! ' cried Cathy, kindling into joyful surprise at the name.
'Is that little Linton? He's taller than I am! Are you Linton? '

The youth stepped forward, and acknowledged himself: she kissed him
fervently, and they gazed with wonder at the change time had wrought in
the appearance of each. Catherine had reached her full height; her
figure was both plump and slender, elastic as steel, and her whole aspect
sparkling with health and spirits. Linton's looks and movements were
very languid, and his form extremely slight; but there was a grace in his
manner that mitigated these defects, and rendered him not unpleasing.
After exchanging numerous marks of fondness with him, his cousin went to
Mr. Heathcliff, who lingered by the door, dividing his attention between
the objects inside and those that lay without: pretending, that is, to
observe the latter, and really noting the former alone.

'And you are my uncle, then! ' she cried, reaching up to salute him. 'I
thought I liked you, though you were cross at first. Why don't you visit
at the Grange with Linton? To live all these years such close
neighbours, and never see us, is odd: what have you done so for? '

'I visited it once or twice too often before you were born,' he answered.
'There--damn it! If you have any kisses to spare, give them to Linton:
they are thrown away on me. '

'Naughty Ellen! ' exclaimed Catherine, flying to attack me next with her
lavish caresses. 'Wicked Ellen! to try to hinder me from entering. But
I'll take this walk every morning in future: may I, uncle? and sometimes
bring papa. Won't you be glad to see us? '

'Of course,' replied the uncle, with a hardly suppressed grimace,
resulting from his deep aversion to both the proposed visitors. 'But
stay,' he continued, turning towards the young lady. 'Now I think of it,
I'd better tell you. Mr. Linton has a prejudice against me: we
quarrelled at one time of our lives, with unchristian ferocity; and, if
you mention coming here to him, he'll put a veto on your visits
altogether. Therefore, you must not mention it, unless you be careless
of seeing your cousin hereafter: you may come, if you will, but you must
not mention it. '

'Why did you quarrel? ' asked Catherine, considerably crestfallen.

'He thought me too poor to wed his sister,' answered Heathcliff, 'and was
grieved that I got her: his pride was hurt, and he'll never forgive it. '

'That's wrong! ' said the young lady: 'some time I'll tell him so. But
Linton and I have no share in your quarrel. I'll not come here, then; he
shall come to the Grange. '

'It will be too far for me,' murmured her cousin: 'to walk four miles
would kill me. No, come here, Miss Catherine, now and then: not every
morning, but once or twice a week. '

The father launched towards his son a glance of bitter contempt.

'I am afraid, Nelly, I shall lose my labour,' he muttered to me. 'Miss
Catherine, as the ninny calls her, will discover his value, and send him
to the devil. Now, if it had been Hareton! --Do you know that, twenty
times a day, I covet Hareton, with all his degradation? I'd have loved
the lad had he been some one else. But I think he's safe from _her_
love. I'll pit him against that paltry creature, unless it bestir itself
briskly. We calculate it will scarcely last till it is eighteen. Oh,
confound the vapid thing! He's absorbed in drying his feet, and never
looks at her. --Linton! '

'Yes, father,' answered the boy.

'Have you nothing to show your cousin anywhere about, not even a rabbit
or a weasel's nest? Take her into the garden, before you change your
shoes; and into the stable to see your horse. '

'Wouldn't you rather sit here? ' asked Linton, addressing Cathy in a tone
which expressed reluctance to move again.

'I don't know,' she replied, casting a longing look to the door, and
evidently eager to be active.

He kept his seat, and shrank closer to the fire. Heathcliff rose, and
went into the kitchen, and from thence to the yard, calling out for
Hareton. Hareton responded, and presently the two re-entered. The young
man had been washing himself, as was visible by the glow on his cheeks
and his wetted hair.

'Oh, I'll ask _you_, uncle,' cried Miss Cathy, recollecting the
housekeeper's assertion. 'That is not my cousin, is he? '

'Yes,' he, replied, 'your mother's nephew. Don't you like him! '

Catherine looked queer.

'Is he not a handsome lad? ' he continued.

The uncivil little thing stood on tiptoe, and whispered a sentence in
Heathcliff's ear. He laughed; Hareton darkened: I perceived he was very
sensitive to suspected slights, and had obviously a dim notion of his
inferiority. But his master or guardian chased the frown by exclaiming--

'You'll be the favourite among us, Hareton! She says you are a--What was
it? Well, something very flattering. Here! you go with her round the
farm. And behave like a gentleman, mind! Don't use any bad words; and
don't stare when the young lady is not looking at you, and be ready to
hide your face when she is; and, when you speak, say your words slowly,
and keep your hands out of your pockets. Be off, and entertain her as
nicely as you can. '

He watched the couple walking past the window. Earnshaw had his
countenance completely averted from his companion. He seemed studying
the familiar landscape with a stranger's and an artist's interest.
Catherine took a sly look at him, expressing small admiration. She then
turned her attention to seeking out objects of amusement for herself, and
tripped merrily on, lilting a tune to supply the lack of conversation.

'I've tied his tongue,' observed Heathcliff. 'He'll not venture a single
syllable all the time! Nelly, you recollect me at his age--nay, some
years younger. Did I ever look so stupid: so "gaumless," as Joseph calls
it? '

'Worse,' I replied, 'because more sullen with it. '

'I've a pleasure in him,' he continued, reflecting aloud. 'He has
satisfied my expectations. If he were a born fool I should not enjoy it
half so much. But he's no fool; and I can sympathise with all his
feelings, having felt them myself. I know what he suffers now, for
instance, exactly: it is merely a beginning of what he shall suffer,
though. And he'll never be able to emerge from his bathos of coarseness
and ignorance. I've got him faster than his scoundrel of a father
secured me, and lower; for he takes a pride in his brutishness. I've
taught him to scorn everything extra-animal as silly and weak. Don't you
think Hindley would be proud of his son, if he could see him? almost as
proud as I am of mine. But there's this difference; one is gold put to
the use of paving-stones, and the other is tin polished to ape a service
of silver. _Mine_ has nothing valuable about it; yet I shall have the
merit of making it go as far as such poor stuff can go. _His_ had
first-rate qualities, and they are lost: rendered worse than unavailing.
I have nothing to regret; he would have more than any but I are aware
of. And the best of it is, Hareton is damnably fond of me! You'll own
that I've outmatched Hindley there. If the dead villain could rise from
his grave to abuse me for his offspring's wrongs, I should have the fun
of seeing the said offspring fight him back again, indignant that he
should dare to rail at the one friend he has in the world! '

Heathcliff chuckled a fiendish laugh at the idea. I made no reply,
because I saw that he expected none. Meantime, our young companion, who
sat too removed from us to hear what was said, began to evince symptoms
of uneasiness, probably repenting that he had denied himself the treat of
Catherine's society for fear of a little fatigue. His father remarked
the restless glances wandering to the window, and the hand irresolutely
extended towards his cap.

'Get up, you idle boy! ' he exclaimed, with assumed heartiness.

'Away after them! they are just at the corner, by the stand of hives. '

Linton gathered his energies, and left the hearth. The lattice was open,
and, as he stepped out, I heard Cathy inquiring of her unsociable
attendant what was that inscription over the door? Hareton stared up, and
scratched his head like a true clown.

'It's some damnable writing,' he answered. 'I cannot read it. '

'Can't read it? ' cried Catherine; 'I can read it: it's English. But I
want to know why it is there. '

Linton giggled: the first appearance of mirth he had exhibited.

'He does not know his letters,' he said to his cousin. 'Could you
believe in the existence of such a colossal dunce? '

'Is he all as he should be? ' asked Miss Cathy, seriously; 'or is he
simple: not right? I've questioned him twice now, and each time he
looked so stupid I think he does not understand me. I can hardly
understand him, I'm sure! '

Linton repeated his laugh, and glanced at Hareton tauntingly; who
certainly did not seem quite clear of comprehension at that moment.

'There's nothing the matter but laziness; is there, Earnshaw? ' he said.
'My cousin fancies you are an idiot. There you experience the
consequence of scorning "book-larning," as you would say. Have you
noticed, Catherine, his frightful Yorkshire pronunciation? '

'Why, where the devil is the use on't? ' growled Hareton, more ready in
answering his daily companion. He was about to enlarge further, but the
two youngsters broke into a noisy fit of merriment: my giddy miss being
delighted to discover that she might turn his strange talk to matter of
amusement.

'Where is the use of the devil in that sentence? ' tittered Linton. 'Papa
told you not to say any bad words, and you can't open your mouth without
one. Do try to behave like a gentleman, now do! '

'If thou weren't more a lass than a lad, I'd fell thee this minute, I
would; pitiful lath of a crater! ' retorted the angry boor, retreating,
while his face burnt with mingled rage and mortification! for he was
conscious of being insulted, and embarrassed how to resent it.

Mr. Heathcliff having overheard the conversation, as well as I, smiled
when he saw him go; but immediately afterwards cast a look of singular
aversion on the flippant pair, who remained chattering in the door-way:
the boy finding animation enough while discussing Hareton's faults and
deficiencies, and relating anecdotes of his goings on; and the girl
relishing his pert and spiteful sayings, without considering the
ill-nature they evinced. I began to dislike, more than to compassionate
Linton, and to excuse his father in some measure for holding him cheap.

We stayed till afternoon: I could not tear Miss Cathy away sooner; but
happily my master had not quitted his apartment, and remained ignorant of
our prolonged absence. As we walked home, I would fain have enlightened
my charge on the characters of the people we had quitted: but she got it
into her head that I was prejudiced against them.

'Aha! ' she cried, 'you take papa's side, Ellen: you are partial I know;
or else you wouldn't have cheated me so many years into the notion that
Linton lived a long way from here. I'm really extremely angry; only I'm
so pleased I can't show it! But you must hold your tongue about _my_
uncle; he's my uncle, remember; and I'll scold papa for quarrelling with
him. '

And so she ran on, till I relinquished the endeavour to convince her of
her mistake. She did not mention the visit that night, because she did
not see Mr. Linton. Next day it all came out, sadly to my chagrin; and
still I was not altogether sorry: I thought the burden of directing and
warning would be more efficiently borne by him than me. But he was too
timid in giving satisfactory reasons for his wish that she should shun
connection with the household of the Heights, and Catherine liked good
reasons for every restraint that harassed her petted will.

'Papa! ' she exclaimed, after the morning's salutations, 'guess whom I saw
yesterday, in my walk on the moors. Ah, papa, you started! you've not
done right, have you, now? I saw--but listen, and you shall hear how I
found you out; and Ellen, who is in league with you, and yet pretended to
pity me so, when I kept hoping, and was always disappointed about
Linton's coming back! '

She gave a faithful account of her excursion and its consequences; and my
master, though he cast more than one reproachful look at me, said nothing
till she had concluded. Then he drew her to him, and asked if she knew
why he had concealed Linton's near neighbourhood from her? Could she
think it was to deny her a pleasure that she might harmlessly enjoy?

'It was because you disliked Mr. Heathcliff,' she answered.

'Then you believe I care more for my own feelings than yours, Cathy? ' he
said. 'No, it was not because I disliked Mr. Heathcliff, but because Mr.
Heathcliff dislikes me; and is a most diabolical man, delighting to wrong
and ruin those he hates, if they give him the slightest opportunity. I
knew that you could not keep up an acquaintance with your cousin without
being brought into contact with him; and I knew he would detest you on my
account; so for your own good, and nothing else, I took precautions that
you should not see Linton again. I meant to explain this some time as
you grew older, and I'm sorry I delayed it. '

'But Mr.
Heathcliff was quite cordial, papa,' observed Catherine, not at
all convinced; 'and he didn't object to our seeing each other: he said I
might come to his house when I pleased; only I must not tell you, because
you had quarrelled with him, and would not forgive him for marrying aunt
Isabella. And you won't. _You_ are the one to be blamed: he is willing
to let us be friends, at least; Linton and I; and you are not. '

My master, perceiving that she would not take his word for her
uncle-in-law's evil disposition, gave a hasty sketch of his conduct to
Isabella, and the manner in which Wuthering Heights became his property.
He could not bear to discourse long upon the topic; for though he spoke
little of it, he still felt the same horror and detestation of his
ancient enemy that had occupied his heart ever since Mrs. Linton's
death. 'She might have been living yet, if it had not been for him! ' was
his constant bitter reflection; and, in his eyes, Heathcliff seemed a
murderer. Miss Cathy--conversant with no bad deeds except her own slight
acts of disobedience, injustice, and passion, arising from hot temper
and thoughtlessness, and repented of on the day they were committed--was
amazed at the blackness of spirit that could brood on and cover revenge
for years, and deliberately prosecute its plans without a visitation of
remorse. She appeared so deeply impressed and shocked at this new view
of human nature--excluded from all her studies and all her ideas till
now--that Mr. Edgar deemed it unnecessary to pursue the subject. He
merely added: 'You will know hereafter, darling, why I wish you to avoid
his house and family; now return to your old employments and amusements,
and think no more about them. '

Catherine kissed her father, and sat down quietly to her lessons for a
couple of hours, according to custom; then she accompanied him into the
grounds, and the whole day passed as usual: but in the evening, when she
had retired to her room, and I went to help her to undress, I found her
crying, on her knees by the bedside.

'Oh, fie, silly child! ' I exclaimed. 'If you had any real griefs you'd
be ashamed to waste a tear on this little contrariety. You never had one
shadow of substantial sorrow, Miss Catherine. Suppose, for a minute,
that master and I were dead, and you were by yourself in the world: how
would you feel, then? Compare the present occasion with such an
affliction as that, and be thankful for the friends you have, instead of
coveting more. '

'I'm not crying for myself, Ellen,' she answered, 'it's for him. He
expected to see me again to-morrow, and there he'll be so disappointed:
and he'll wait for me, and I sha'n't come! '

'Nonsense! ' said I, 'do you imagine he has thought as much of you as you
have of him? Hasn't he Hareton for a companion? Not one in a hundred
would weep at losing a relation they had just seen twice, for two
afternoons. Linton will conjecture how it is, and trouble himself no
further about you. '

'But may I not write a note to tell him why I cannot come? ' she asked,
rising to her feet. 'And just send those books I promised to lend him?
His books are not as nice as mine, and he wanted to have them extremely,
when I told him how interesting they were. May I not, Ellen? '

'No, indeed! no, indeed! ' replied I with decision. 'Then he would write
to you, and there'd never be an end of it. No, Miss Catherine, the
acquaintance must be dropped entirely: so papa expects, and I shall see
that it is done. '

'But how can one little note--? ' she recommenced, putting on an imploring
countenance.

'Silence! ' I interrupted. 'We'll not begin with your little notes. Get
into bed. '

She threw at me a very naughty look, so naughty that I would not kiss her
good-night at first: I covered her up, and shut her door, in great
displeasure; but, repenting half-way, I returned softly, and lo! there
was Miss standing at the table with a bit of blank paper before her and a
pencil in her hand, which she guiltily slipped out of sight on my
entrance.

'You'll get nobody to take that, Catherine,' I said, 'if you write it;
and at present I shall put out your candle. '

I set the extinguisher on the flame, receiving as I did so a slap on my
hand and a petulant 'cross thing! ' I then quitted her again, and she
drew the bolt in one of her worst, most peevish humours. The letter was
finished and forwarded to its destination by a milk-fetcher who came from
the village; but that I didn't learn till some time afterwards. Weeks
passed on, and Cathy recovered her temper; though she grew wondrous fond
of stealing off to corners by herself and often, if I came near her
suddenly while reading, she would start and bend over the book, evidently
desirous to hide it; and I detected edges of loose paper sticking out
beyond the leaves. She also got a trick of coming down early in the
morning and lingering about the kitchen, as if she were expecting the
arrival of something; and she had a small drawer in a cabinet in the
library, which she would trifle over for hours, and whose key she took
special care to remove when she left it.

One day, as she inspected this drawer, I observed that the playthings and
trinkets which recently formed its contents were transmuted into bits of
folded paper. My curiosity and suspicions were roused; I determined to
take a peep at her mysterious treasures; so, at night, as soon as she and
my master were safe upstairs, I searched, and readily found among my
house keys one that would fit the lock. Having opened, I emptied the
whole contents into my apron, and took them with me to examine at leisure
in my own chamber. Though I could not but suspect, I was still surprised
to discover that they were a mass of correspondence--daily almost, it
must have been--from Linton Heathcliff: answers to documents forwarded by
her. The earlier dated were embarrassed and short; gradually, however,
they expanded into copious love-letters, foolish, as the age of the
writer rendered natural, yet with touches here and there which I thought
were borrowed from a more experienced source. Some of them struck me as
singularly odd compounds of ardour and flatness; commencing in strong
feeling, and concluding in the affected, wordy style that a schoolboy
might use to a fancied, incorporeal sweetheart. Whether they satisfied
Cathy I don't know; but they appeared very worthless trash to me. After
turning over as many as I thought proper, I tied them in a handkerchief
and set them aside, relocking the vacant drawer.

Following her habit, my young lady descended early, and visited the
kitchen: I watched her go to the door, on the arrival of a certain little
boy; and, while the dairymaid filled his can, she tucked something into
his jacket pocket, and plucked something out. I went round by the
garden, and laid wait for the messenger; who fought valorously to defend
his trust, and we spilt the milk between us; but I succeeded in
abstracting the epistle; and, threatening serious consequences if he did
not look sharp home, I remained under the wall and perused Miss Cathy's
affectionate composition. It was more simple and more eloquent than her
cousin's: very pretty and very silly. I shook my head, and went
meditating into the house. The day being wet, she could not divert
herself with rambling about the park; so, at the conclusion of her
morning studies, she resorted to the solace of the drawer. Her father
sat reading at the table; and I, on purpose, had sought a bit of work in
some unripped fringes of the window-curtain, keeping my eye steadily
fixed on her proceedings. Never did any bird flying back to a plundered
nest, which it had left brimful of chirping young ones, express more
complete despair, in its anguished cries and flutterings, than she by her
single 'Oh! ' and the change that transfigured her late happy countenance.
Mr. Linton looked up.

'What is the matter, love? Have you hurt yourself? ' he said.

His tone and look assured her _he_ had not been the discoverer of the
hoard.

'No, papa! ' she gasped. 'Ellen! Ellen! come up-stairs--I'm sick! '

I obeyed her summons, and accompanied her out.

'Oh, Ellen! you have got them,' she commenced immediately, dropping on
her knees, when we were enclosed alone. 'Oh, give them to me, and I'll
never, never do so again! Don't tell papa. You have not told papa,
Ellen? say you have not? I've been exceedingly naughty, but I won't do
it any more! '

With a grave severity in my manner I bade her stand up.

'So,' I exclaimed, 'Miss Catherine, you are tolerably far on, it seems:
you may well be ashamed of them! A fine bundle of trash you study in
your leisure hours, to be sure: why, it's good enough to be printed! And
what do you suppose the master will think when I display it before him? I
hav'n't shown it yet, but you needn't imagine I shall keep your
ridiculous secrets. For shame! and you must have led the way in writing
such absurdities: he would not have thought of beginning, I'm certain. '

'I didn't! I didn't! ' sobbed Cathy, fit to break her heart. 'I didn't
once think of loving him till--'

'_Loving_! ' cried I, as scornfully as I could utter the word. '_Loving_!
Did anybody ever hear the like! I might just as well talk of loving the
miller who comes once a year to buy our corn. Pretty loving, indeed! and
both times together you have seen Linton hardly four hours in your life!
Now here is the babyish trash. I'm going with it to the library; and
we'll see what your father says to such _loving_. '

She sprang at her precious epistles, but I held them above my head; and
then she poured out further frantic entreaties that I would burn them--do
anything rather than show them. And being really fully as much inclined
to laugh as scold--for I esteemed it all girlish vanity--I at length
relented in a measure, and asked,--'If I consent to burn them, will you
promise faithfully neither to send nor receive a letter again, nor a book
(for I perceive you have sent him books), nor locks of hair, nor rings,
nor playthings? '

'We don't send playthings,' cried Catherine, her pride overcoming her
shame.

'Nor anything at all, then, my lady? ' I said. 'Unless you will, here I
go. '

'I promise, Ellen! ' she cried, catching my dress. 'Oh, put them in the
fire, do, do! '

But when I proceeded to open a place with the poker the sacrifice was too
painful to be borne. She earnestly supplicated that I would spare her
one or two.

'One or two, Ellen, to keep for Linton's sake! '

I unknotted the handkerchief, and commenced dropping them in from an
angle, and the flame curled up the chimney.

'I will have one, you cruel wretch! ' she screamed, darting her hand into
the fire, and drawing forth some half-consumed fragments, at the expense
of her fingers.

'Very well--and I will have some to exhibit to papa! ' I answered,
shaking back the rest into the bundle, and turning anew to the door.

She emptied her blackened pieces into the flames, and motioned me to
finish the immolation. It was done; I stirred up the ashes, and interred
them under a shovelful of coals; and she mutely, and with a sense of
intense injury, retired to her private apartment. I descended to tell my
master that the young lady's qualm of sickness was almost gone, but I
judged it best for her to lie down a while. She wouldn't dine; but she
reappeared at tea, pale, and red about the eyes, and marvellously subdued
in outward aspect. Next morning I answered the letter by a slip of
paper, inscribed, 'Master Heathcliff is requested to send no more notes
to Miss Linton, as she will not receive them. ' And, henceforth, the
little boy came with vacant pockets.




CHAPTER XXII


Summer drew to an end, and early autumn: it was past Michaelmas, but the
harvest was late that year, and a few of our fields were still uncleared.
Mr. Linton and his daughter would frequently walk out among the reapers;
at the carrying of the last sheaves they stayed till dusk, and the
evening happening to be chill and damp, my master caught a bad cold, that
settled obstinately on his lungs, and confined him indoors throughout the
whole of the winter, nearly without intermission.

Poor Cathy, frightened from her little romance, had been considerably
sadder and duller since its abandonment; and her father insisted on her
reading less, and taking more exercise. She had his companionship no
longer; I esteemed it a duty to supply its lack, as much as possible,
with mine: an inefficient substitute; for I could only spare two or three
hours, from my numerous diurnal occupations, to follow her footsteps, and
then my society was obviously less desirable than his.

On an afternoon in October, or the beginning of November--a fresh watery
afternoon, when the turf and paths were rustling with moist, withered
leaves, and the cold blue sky was half hidden by clouds--dark grey
streamers, rapidly mounting from the west, and boding abundant rain--I
requested my young lady to forego her ramble, because I was certain of
showers. She refused; and I unwillingly donned a cloak, and took my
umbrella to accompany her on a stroll to the bottom of the park: a formal
walk which she generally affected if low-spirited--and that she
invariably was when Mr. Edgar had been worse than ordinary, a thing never
known from his confession, but guessed both by her and me from his
increased silence and the melancholy of his countenance. She went sadly
on: there was no running or bounding now, though the chill wind might
well have tempted her to race. And often, from the side of my eye, I
could detect her raising a hand, and brushing something off her cheek. I
gazed round for a means of diverting her thoughts. 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?