prompt:
Chapter: Cathy stayed at Thrushcross Grange five weeks: till Christmas.  By that
time her ankle was thoroughly cured, and her manners much improved.  The
mistress visited her often in the interval, and commenced her plan of
reform by trying to raise her self-respect with fine clothes and
flattery, which she took readily; so that, instead of a wild, hatless
little savage jumping into the house, and rushing to squeeze us all
breathless, there 'lighted from a handsome black pony a very dignified
person, with brown ringlets falling from the cover of a feathered beaver,
and a long cloth habit, which she was obliged to hold up with both hands
that she might sail in.  Hindley lifted her from her horse, exclaiming
delightedly, 'Why, Cathy, you are quite a beauty!  I should scarcely have
known you: you look like a lady now.  Isabella Linton is not to be
compared with her, is she, Frances?'  'Isabella has not her natural
advantages,' replied his wife: 'but she must mind and not grow wild again
here.  Ellen, help Miss Catherine off with her things--Stay, dear, you
will disarrange your curls--let me untie your hat.'

I removed the habit, and there shone forth beneath a grand plaid silk
frock, white trousers, and burnished shoes; and, while her eyes sparkled
joyfully when the dogs came bounding up to welcome her, she dared hardly
touch them lest they should fawn upon her splendid garments.  She kissed
me gently: I was all flour making the Christmas cake, and it would not
have done to give me a hug; and then she looked round for Heathcliff.  Mr.
and Mrs. Earnshaw watched anxiously their meeting; thinking it would
enable them to judge, in some measure, what grounds they had for hoping
to succeed in separating the two friends.

Heathcliff was hard to discover, at first.  If he were careless, and
uncared for, before Catherine's absence, he had been ten times more so
since.  Nobody but I even did him the kindness to call him a dirty boy,
and bid him wash himself, once a week; and children of his age seldom
have a natural pleasure in soap and water.  Therefore, not to mention his
clothes, which had seen three months' service in mire and dust, and his
thick uncombed hair, the surface of his face and hands was dismally
beclouded.  He might well skulk behind the settle, on beholding such a
bright, graceful damsel enter the house, instead of a rough-headed
counterpart of himself, as he expected.  'Is Heathcliff not here?' she
demanded, pulling off her gloves, and displaying fingers wonderfully
whitened with doing nothing and staying indoors.

'Heathcliff, you may come forward,' cried Mr. Hindley, enjoying his
discomfiture, and gratified to see what a forbidding young blackguard he
would be compelled to present himself.  'You may come and wish Miss
Catherine welcome, like the other servants.'

Cathy, catching a glimpse of her friend in his concealment, flew to
embrace him; she bestowed seven or eight kisses on his cheek within the
second, and then stopped, and drawing back, burst into a laugh,
exclaiming, 'Why, how very black and cross you look! and how--how funny
and grim!  But that's because I'm used to Edgar and Isabella Linton.
Well, Heathcliff, have you forgotten me?'

She had some reason to put the question, for shame and pride threw double
gloom over his countenance, and kept him immovable.

'Shake hands, Heathcliff,' said Mr. Earnshaw, condescendingly; 'once in a
way that is permitted.'

'I shall not,' replied the boy, finding his tongue at last; 'I shall not
stand to be laughed at.  I shall not bear it!'  And he would have broken
from the circle, but Miss Cathy seized him again.

'I did not mean to laugh at you,' she said; 'I could not hinder myself:
Heathcliff, shake hands at least!  What are you sulky for?  It was only
that you looked odd.  If you wash your face and brush your hair, it will
be all right: but you are so dirty!'

She gazed concernedly at the dusky fingers she held in her own, and also
at her dress; which she feared had gained no embellishment from its
contact with his.

'You needn't have touched me!' he answered, following her eye and
snatching away his hand.  'I shall be as dirty as I please: and I like to
be dirty, and I will be dirty.'

With that he dashed headforemost out of the room, amid the merriment of
the master and mistress, and to the serious disturbance of Catherine; who
could not comprehend how her remarks should have produced such an
exhibition of bad temper.

After playing lady's-maid to the new-comer, and putting my cakes in the
oven, and making the house and kitchen cheerful with great fires,
befitting Christmas-eve, I prepared to sit down and amuse myself by
singing carols, all alone; regardless of Joseph's affirmations that he
considered the merry tunes I chose as next door to songs.  He had retired
to private prayer in his chamber, and Mr. and Mrs. Earnshaw were engaging
Missy's attention by sundry gay trifles bought for her to present to the
little Lintons, as an acknowledgment of their kindness.  They had invited
them to spend the morrow at Wuthering Heights, and the invitation had
been accepted, on one condition: Mrs. Linton begged that her darlings
might be kept carefully apart from that 'naughty swearing boy.'

Under these circumstances I remained solitary.  I smelt the rich scent of
the heating spices; and admired the shining kitchen utensils, the
polished clock, decked in holly, the silver mugs ranged on a tray ready
to be filled with mulled ale for supper; and above all, the speckless
purity of my particular care--the scoured and well-swept floor.  I gave
due inward applause to every object, and then I remembered how old
Earnshaw used to come in when all was tidied, and call me a cant lass,
and slip a shilling into my hand as a Christmas-box; and from that I went
on to think of his fondness for Heathcliff, and his dread lest he should
suffer neglect after death had removed him: and that naturally led me to
consider the poor lad's situation now, and from singing I changed my mind
to crying.  It struck me soon, however, there would be more sense in
endeavouring to repair some of his wrongs than shedding tears over them:
I got up and walked into the court to seek him.  He was not far; I found
him smoothing the glossy coat of the new pony in the stable, and feeding
the other beasts, according to custom.

'Make haste, Heathcliff!' I said, 'the kitchen is so comfortable; and
Joseph is up-stairs: make haste, and let me dress you smart before Miss
Cathy comes out, and then you can sit together, with the whole hearth to
yourselves, and have a long chatter till bedtime.'

He proceeded with his task, and never turned his head towards me.

'Come--are you coming?' I continued.  'There's a little cake for each of
you, nearly enough; and you'll need half-an-hour's donning.'

I waited five minutes, but getting no answer left him.  Catherine supped
with her brother and sister-in-law: Joseph and I joined at an unsociable
meal, seasoned with reproofs on one side and sauciness on the other.  His
cake and cheese remained on the table all night for the fairies.  He
managed to continue work till nine o'clock, and then marched dumb and
dour to his chamber.  Cathy sat up late, having a world of things to
order for the reception of her new friends: she came into the kitchen
once to speak to her old one; but he was gone, and she only stayed to ask
what was the matter with him, and then went back.  In the morning he rose
early; and, as it was a holiday, carried his ill-humour on to the moors;
not re-appearing till the family were departed for church.  Fasting and
reflection seemed to have brought him to a better spirit.  He hung about
me for a while, and having screwed up his courage, exclaimed
abruptly--'Nelly, make me decent, I'm going to be good.'

'High time, Heathcliff,' I said; 'you _have_ grieved Catherine: she's
sorry she ever came home, I daresay!  It looks as if you envied her,
because she is more thought of than you.'

The notion of _envying_ Catherine was incomprehensible to him, but the
notion of grieving her he understood clearly enough.

'Did she say she was grieved?' he inquired, looking very serious.

'She cried when I told her you were off again this morning.'

'Well, _I_ cried last night,' he returned, 'and I had more reason to cry
than she.'

'Yes: you had the reason of going to bed with a proud heart and an empty
stomach,' said I.  'Proud people breed sad sorrows for themselves.  But,
if you be ashamed of your touchiness, you must ask pardon, mind, when she
comes in.  You must go up and offer to kiss her, and say--you know best
what to say; only do it heartily, and not as if you thought her converted
into a stranger by her grand dress.  And now, though I have dinner to get
ready, I'll steal time to arrange you so that Edgar Linton shall look
quite a doll beside you: and that he does.  You are younger, and yet,
I'll be bound, you are taller and twice as broad across the shoulders;
you could knock him down in a twinkling; don't you feel that you could?'

Heathcliff's face brightened a moment; then it was overcast afresh, and
he sighed.

'But, Nelly, if I knocked him down twenty times, that wouldn't make him
less handsome or me more so.  I wish I had light hair and a fair skin,
and was dressed and behaved as well, and had a chance of being as rich as
he will be!'

'And cried for mamma at every turn,' I added, 'and trembled if a country
lad heaved his fist against you, and sat at home all day for a shower of
rain.  Oh, Heathcliff, you are showing a poor spirit!  Come to the glass,
and I'll let you see what you should wish.  Do you mark those two lines
between your eyes; and those thick brows, that, instead of rising arched,
sink in the middle; and that couple of black fiends, so deeply buried,
who never open their windows boldly, but lurk glinting under them, like
devil's spies?  Wish and learn to smooth away the surly wrinkles, to
raise your lids frankly, and change the fiends to confident, innocent
angels, suspecting and doubting nothing, and always seeing friends where
they are not sure of foes.  Don't get the expression of a vicious cur
that appears to know the kicks it gets are its dessert, and yet hates all
the world, as well as the kicker, for what it suffers.'

'In other words, I must wish for Edgar Linton's great blue eyes and even
forehead,' he replied.  'I do--and that won't help me to them.'

'A good heart will help you to a bonny face, my lad,' I continued, 'if
you were a regular black; and a bad one will turn the bonniest into
something worse than ugly.  And now that we've done washing, and combing,
and sulking--tell me whether you don't think yourself rather handsome?
I'll tell you, I do.  You're fit for a prince in disguise.  Who knows but
your father was Emperor of China, and your mother an Indian queen, each
of them able to buy up, with one week's income, Wuthering Heights and
Thrushcross Grange together?  And you were kidnapped by wicked sailors
and brought to England.  Were I in your place, I would frame high notions
of my birth; and the thoughts of what I was should give me courage and
dignity to support the oppressions of a little farmer!'

So I chattered on; and Heathcliff gradually lost his frown and began to
look quite pleasant, when all at once our conversation was interrupted by
a rumbling sound moving up the road and entering the court.  He ran to
the window and I to the door, just in time to behold the two Lintons
descend from the family carriage, smothered in cloaks and furs, and the
Earnshaws dismount from their horses: they often rode to church in
winter.  Catherine took a hand of each of the children, and brought them
into the house and set them before the fire, which quickly put colour
into their white faces.

I urged my companion to hasten now and show his amiable humour, and he
willingly obeyed; but ill luck would have it that, as he opened the door
leading from the kitchen on one side, Hindley opened it on the other.
They met, and the master, irritated at seeing him clean and cheerful, or,
perhaps, eager to keep his promise to Mrs. Linton, shoved him back with a
sudden thrust, and angrily bade Joseph 'keep the fellow out of the
room--send him into the garret till dinner is over.  He'll be cramming
his fingers in the tarts and stealing the fruit, if left alone with them
a minute.'

'Nay, sir,' I could not avoid answering, 'he'll touch nothing, not he:
and I suppose he must have his share of the dainties as well as we.'

'He shall have his share of my hand, if I catch him downstairs till
dark,' cried Hindley.  'Begone, you vagabond!  What! you are attempting
the coxcomb, are you?  Wait till I get hold of those elegant locks--see
if I won't pull them a bit longer!'

'They are long enough already,' observed Master Linton, peeping from the
doorway; 'I wonder they don't make his head ache.  It's like a colt's
mane over his eyes!'

He ventured this remark without any intention to insult; but Heathcliff's
violent nature was not prepared to endure the appearance of impertinence
from one whom he seemed to hate, even then, as a rival.  He seized a
tureen of hot apple sauce (the first thing that came under his grip) and
dashed it full against the speaker's face and neck; who instantly
commenced a lament that brought Isabella and Catherine hurrying to the
place.  Mr. Earnshaw snatched up the culprit directly and conveyed him to
his chamber; where, doubtless, he administered a rough remedy to cool the
fit of passion, for he appeared red and breathless.  I got the dishcloth,
and rather spitefully scrubbed Edgar's nose and mouth, affirming it
served him right for meddling.  His sister began weeping to go home, and
Cathy stood by confounded, blushing for all.

'You should not have spoken to him!' she expostulated with Master Linton.
'He was in a bad temper, and now you've spoilt your visit; and he'll be
flogged: I hate him to be flogged!  I can't eat my dinner.  Why did you
speak to him, Edgar?'

'I didn't,' sobbed the youth, escaping from my hands, and finishing the
remainder of the purification with his cambric pocket-handkerchief.  'I
promised mamma that I wouldn't say one word to him, and I didn't.'

'Well, don't cry,' replied Catherine, contemptuously; 'you're not killed.
Don't make more mischief; my brother is coming: be quiet!  Hush,
Isabella!  Has anybody hurt you?'

'There, there, children--to your seats!' cried Hindley, bustling in.
'That brute of a lad has warmed me nicely.  Next time, Master Edgar, take
the law into your own fists--it will give you an appetite!'

The little party recovered its equanimity at sight of the fragrant feast.
They were hungry after their ride, and easily consoled, since no real
harm had befallen them.  Mr. Earnshaw carved bountiful platefuls, and the
mistress made them merry with lively talk.  I waited behind her chair,
and was pained to behold Catherine, with dry eyes and an indifferent air,
commence cutting up the wing of a goose before her.  'An unfeeling
child,' I thought to myself; 'how lightly she dismisses her old
playmate's troubles.  I could not have imagined her to be so selfish.'
She lifted a mouthful to her lips: then she set it down again: her cheeks
flushed, and the tears gushed over them.  She slipped her fork to the
floor, and hastily dived under the cloth to conceal her emotion.  I did
not call her unfeeling long; for I perceived she was in purgatory
throughout the day, and wearying to find an opportunity of getting by
herself, or paying a visit to Heathcliff, who had been locked up by the
master: as I discovered, on endeavouring to introduce to him a private
mess of victuals.

In the evening we had a dance.  Cathy begged that he might be liberated
then, as Isabella Linton had no partner: her entreaties were vain, and I
was appointed to supply the deficiency.  We got rid of all gloom in the
excitement of the exercise, and our pleasure was increased by the arrival
of the Gimmerton band, mustering fifteen strong: a trumpet, a trombone,
clarionets, bassoons, French horns, and a bass viol, besides singers.
They go the rounds of all the respectable houses, and receive
contributions every Christmas, and we esteemed it a first-rate treat to
hear them.  After the usual carols had been sung, we set them to songs
and glees.  Mrs. Earnshaw loved the music, and so they gave us plenty.

Catherine loved it too: but she said it sounded sweetest at the top of
the steps, and she went up in the dark: I followed. They shut the house
door below, never noting our absence, it was so full of people. She made
no stay at the stairs'-head, but mounted farther, to the garret where
Heathcliff was confined, and called him. He stubbornly declined
answering for a while: she persevered, and finally persuaded him to hold
communion with her through the boards. I let the poor things converse
unmolested, till I supposed the songs were going to cease, and the
singers to get some refreshment: then I clambered up the ladder to warn
her. Instead of finding her outside, I heard her voice within. The
little monkey had crept by the skylight of one garret, along the roof,
into the skylight of the other, and it was with the utmost difficulty I
could coax her out again. When she did come, Heathcliff came with her,
and she insisted that I should take him into the kitchen, as my
fellow-servant had gone to a neighbour's, to be removed from the sound
of our 'devil's psalmody,' as it pleased him to call it. I told them I
intended by no means to encourage their tricks: but as the prisoner had
never broken his fast since yesterday's dinner, I would wink at his
cheating Mr. Hindley that once. He went down: I set him a stool by the
fire, and offered him a quantity of good things: but he was sick and
could eat little, and my attempts to entertain him were thrown away. He
leant his two elbows on his knees, and his chin on his hands and
remained rapt in dumb meditation. On my inquiring the subject of his
thoughts, he answered gravely--'I'm trying to settle how I shall pay
Hindley back. I don't care how long I wait, if I can only do it at last.
I hope he will not die before I do!'

'For shame, Heathcliff!' said I.  'It is for God to punish wicked people;
we should learn to forgive.'

'No, God won't have the satisfaction that I shall,' he returned.  'I only
wish I knew the best way!  Let me alone, and I'll plan it out: while I'm
thinking of that I don't feel pain.'

'But, Mr. Lockwood, I forget these tales cannot divert you.  I'm annoyed
how I should dream of chattering on at such a rate; and your gruel cold,
and you nodding for bed!  I could have told Heathcliff's history, all
that you need hear, in half a dozen words.'

* * * * *

Thus interrupting herself, the housekeeper rose, and proceeded to lay
aside her sewing; but I felt incapable of moving from the hearth, and I
was very far from nodding.  'Sit still, Mrs. Dean,' I cried; 'do sit
still another half-hour.  You've done just right to tell the story
leisurely.  That is the method I like; and you must finish it in the same
style.  I am interested in every character you have mentioned, more or
less.'

'The clock is on the stroke of eleven, sir.'

'No matter--I'm not accustomed to go to bed in the long hours.  One or
two is early enough for a person who lies till ten.'

'You shouldn't lie till ten.  There's the very prime of the morning gone
long before that time.  A person who has not done one-half his day's work
by ten o'clock, runs a chance of leaving the other half undone.'

'Nevertheless, Mrs. Dean, resume your chair; because to-morrow I intend
lengthening the night till afternoon.  I prognosticate for myself an
obstinate cold, at least.'

'I hope not, sir.  Well, you must allow me to leap over some three years;
during that space Mrs. Earnshaw--'

'No, no, I'll allow nothing of the sort!  Are you acquainted with the
mood of mind in which, if you were seated alone, and the cat licking its
kitten on the rug before you, you would watch the operation so intently
that puss's neglect of one ear would put you seriously out of temper?'

'A terribly lazy mood, I should say.'

'On the contrary, a tiresomely active one. It is mine, at present; and,
therefore, continue minutely. I perceive that people in these regions
acquire over people in towns the value that a spider in a dungeon does
over a spider in a cottage, to their various occupants; and yet the
deepened attraction is not entirely owing to the situation of the
looker-on. They _do_ live more in earnest, more in themselves, and less
in surface, change, and frivolous external things. I could fancy a love
for life here almost possible; and I was a fixed unbeliever in any love
of a year's standing. One state resembles setting a hungry man down to a
single dish, on which he may concentrate his entire appetite and do it
justice; the other, introducing him to a table laid out by French cooks:
he can perhaps extract as much enjoyment from the whole; but each part
is a mere atom in his regard and remembrance.'

'Oh! here we are the same as anywhere else, when you get to know us,'
observed Mrs. Dean, somewhat puzzled at my speech.

'Excuse me,' I responded; 'you, my good friend, are a striking evidence
against that assertion.  Excepting a few provincialisms of slight
consequence, you have no marks of the manners which I am habituated to
consider as peculiar to your class.  I am sure you have thought a great
deal more than the generality of servants think.  You have been compelled
to cultivate your reflective faculties for want of occasions for
frittering your life away in silly trifles.'

Mrs. Dean laughed.

'I certainly esteem myself a steady, reasonable kind of body,' she said;
'not exactly from living among the hills and seeing one set of faces, and
one series of actions, from year's end to year's end; but I have
undergone sharp discipline, which has taught me wisdom; and then, I have
read more than you would fancy, Mr. Lockwood.  You could not open a book
in this library that I have not looked into, and got something out of
also: unless it be that range of Greek and Latin, and that of French; and
those I know one from another: it is as much as you can expect of a poor
man's daughter.  However, if I am to follow my story in true gossip's
fashion, I had better go on; and instead of leaping three years, I will
be content to pass to the next summer--the summer of 1778, that is nearly
twenty-three years ago.'

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Catherine spends five weeks recuperating at the Grange. Mrs. Linton determines to transform the girl into a young lady and spends her time educating Catherine in manners and social graces. Catherine returns to Wuthering Heights at Christmastime, wearing a lovely dress. Hindley says that Heathcliff may greet Catherine "like the other servants," and, when he does so, she says he is dirty in comparison with the Linton children, to whom she has grown accustomed. Heathcliff's feelings are wounded, and he storms out of the room, declaring that he will be as dirty as he likes. The Linton children come for dinner at Wuthering Heights the next day. Nelly helps Heathcliff to wash himself and put on suitable clothes after the boy declares his intention to be "good," but Mrs. Linton has allowed Edgar and Isabella to attend under the condition that Heathcliff be kept away from them. Accordingly, Hindley orders that Heathcliff be locked in the attic until the end of dinner. Before the boy can be locked away, however, Edgar makes a comment about Heathcliff's hair, and Heathcliff angrily flings hot applesauce in his face. Catherine clearly appears unhappy with Hindley's treatment of Heathcliff, and after dinner she goes up to see him. Nelly frees the boy and gives him some supper in the kitchen. Heathcliff confides to Nelly that he intends to seek revenge on Hindley. At this point, Nelly interrupts her narrative and rises to go, remarking that the night is growing late. Lockwood says that he intends to sleep late the next day and wishes to hear the rest of her story now. He urges her to continue in minute detail


prompt:
Chapter: On the morning of a fine June day my first bonny little nursling, and the
last of the ancient Earnshaw stock, was born.  We were busy with the hay
in a far-away field, when the girl that usually brought our breakfasts
came running an hour too soon across the meadow and up the lane, calling
me as she ran.

'Oh, such a grand bairn!' she panted out.  'The finest lad that ever
breathed!  But the doctor says missis must go: he says she's been in a
consumption these many months.  I heard him tell Mr. Hindley: and now she
has nothing to keep her, and she'll be dead before winter.  You must come
home directly.  You're to nurse it, Nelly: to feed it with sugar and
milk, and take care of it day and night.  I wish I were you, because it
will be all yours when there is no missis!'

'But is she very ill?' I asked, flinging down my rake and tying my
bonnet.

'I guess she is; yet she looks bravely,' replied the girl, 'and she talks
as if she thought of living to see it grow a man.  She's out of her head
for joy, it's such a beauty!  If I were her I'm certain I should not die:
I should get better at the bare sight of it, in spite of Kenneth.  I was
fairly mad at him.  Dame Archer brought the cherub down to master, in the
house, and his face just began to light up, when the old croaker steps
forward, and says he--"Earnshaw, it's a blessing your wife has been
spared to leave you this son.  When she came, I felt convinced we
shouldn't keep her long; and now, I must tell you, the winter will
probably finish her.  Don't take on, and fret about it too much: it can't
be helped.  And besides, you should have known better than to choose such
a rush of a lass!"'

'And what did the master answer?' I inquired.

'I think he swore: but I didn't mind him, I was straining to see the
bairn,' and she began again to describe it rapturously.  I, as zealous as
herself, hurried eagerly home to admire, on my part; though I was very
sad for Hindley's sake.  He had room in his heart only for two idols--his
wife and himself: he doted on both, and adored one, and I couldn't
conceive how he would bear the loss.

When we got to Wuthering Heights, there he stood at the front door; and,
as I passed in, I asked, 'how was the baby?'

'Nearly ready to run about, Nell!' he replied, putting on a cheerful
smile.

'And the mistress?' I ventured to inquire; 'the doctor says she's--'

'Damn the doctor!' he interrupted, reddening.  'Frances is quite right:
she'll be perfectly well by this time next week.  Are you going
up-stairs? will you tell her that I'll come, if she'll promise not to
talk.  I left her because she would not hold her tongue; and she
must--tell her Mr. Kenneth says she must be quiet.'

I delivered this message to Mrs. Earnshaw; she seemed in flighty spirits,
and replied merrily, 'I hardly spoke a word, Ellen, and there he has gone
out twice, crying.  Well, say I promise I won't speak: but that does not
bind me not to laugh at him!'

Poor soul!  Till within a week of her death that gay heart never failed
her; and her husband persisted doggedly, nay, furiously, in affirming her
health improved every day.  When Kenneth warned him that his medicines
were useless at that stage of the malady, and he needn't put him to
further expense by attending her, he retorted, 'I know you need not--she's
well--she does not want any more attendance from you!  She never was in a
consumption.  It was a fever; and it is gone: her pulse is as slow as
mine now, and her cheek as cool.'

He told his wife the same story, and she seemed to believe him; but one
night, while leaning on his shoulder, in the act of saying she thought
she should be able to get up to-morrow, a fit of coughing took her--a
very slight one--he raised her in his arms; she put her two hands about
his neck, her face changed, and she was dead.

As the girl had anticipated, the child Hareton fell wholly into my hands.
Mr. Earnshaw, provided he saw him healthy and never heard him cry, was
contented, as far as regarded him.  For himself, he grew desperate: his
sorrow was of that kind that will not lament.  He neither wept nor
prayed; he cursed and defied: execrated God and man, and gave himself up
to reckless dissipation.  The servants could not bear his tyrannical and
evil conduct long: Joseph and I were the only two that would stay.  I had
not the heart to leave my charge; and besides, you know, I had been his
foster-sister, and excused his behaviour more readily than a stranger
would.  Joseph remained to hector over tenants and labourers; and because
it was his vocation to be where he had plenty of wickedness to reprove.

The master's bad ways and bad companions formed a pretty example for
Catherine and Heathcliff.  His treatment of the latter was enough to make
a fiend of a saint.  And, truly, it appeared as if the lad _were_
possessed of something diabolical at that period.  He delighted to
witness Hindley degrading himself past redemption; and became daily more
notable for savage sullenness and ferocity.  I could not half tell what
an infernal house we had.  The curate dropped calling, and nobody decent
came near us, at last; unless Edgar Linton's visits to Miss Cathy might
be an exception.  At fifteen she was the queen of the country-side; she
had no peer; and she did turn out a haughty, headstrong creature!  I own
I did not like her, after infancy was past; and I vexed her frequently by
trying to bring down her arrogance: she never took an aversion to me,
though.  She had a wondrous constancy to old attachments: even Heathcliff
kept his hold on her affections unalterably; and young Linton, with all
his superiority, found it difficult to make an equally deep impression.
He was my late master: that is his portrait over the fireplace.  It used
to hang on one side, and his wife's on the other; but hers has been
removed, or else you might see something of what she was.  Can you make
that out?

Mrs. Dean raised the candle, and I discerned a soft-featured face,
exceedingly resembling the young lady at the Heights, but more pensive
and amiable in expression.  It formed a sweet picture.  The long light
hair curled slightly on the temples; the eyes were large and serious; the
figure almost too graceful.  I did not marvel how Catherine Earnshaw
could forget her first friend for such an individual.  I marvelled much
how he, with a mind to correspond with his person, could fancy my idea of
Catherine Earnshaw.

'A very agreeable portrait,' I observed to the house-keeper.  'Is it
like?'

'Yes,' she answered; 'but he looked better when he was animated; that is
his everyday countenance: he wanted spirit in general.'

Catherine had kept up her acquaintance with the Lintons since her
five-weeks' residence among them; and as she had no temptation to show
her rough side in their company, and had the sense to be ashamed of
being rude where she experienced such invariable courtesy, she imposed
unwittingly on the old lady and gentleman by her ingenious cordiality;
gained the admiration of Isabella, and the heart and soul of her
brother: acquisitions that flattered her from the first--for she was
full of ambition--and led her to adopt a double character without
exactly intending to deceive any one. In the place where she heard
Heathcliff termed a 'vulgar young ruffian,' and 'worse than a brute,'
she took care not to act like him; but at home she had small inclination
to practise politeness that would only be laughed at, and restrain an
unruly nature when it would bring her neither credit nor praise.

Mr. Edgar seldom mustered courage to visit Wuthering Heights openly.  He
had a terror of Earnshaw's reputation, and shrunk from encountering him;
and yet he was always received with our best attempts at civility: the
master himself avoided offending him, knowing why he came; and if he
could not be gracious, kept out of the way.  I rather think his
appearance there was distasteful to Catherine; she was not artful, never
played the coquette, and had evidently an objection to her two friends
meeting at all; for when Heathcliff expressed contempt of Linton in his
presence, she could not half coincide, as she did in his absence; and
when Linton evinced disgust and antipathy to Heathcliff, she dared not
treat his sentiments with indifference, as if depreciation of her
playmate were of scarcely any consequence to her.  I've had many a laugh
at her perplexities and untold troubles, which she vainly strove to hide
from my mockery.  That sounds ill-natured: but she was so proud it became
really impossible to pity her distresses, till she should be chastened
into more humility.  She did bring herself, finally, to confess, and to
confide in me: there was not a soul else that she might fashion into an
adviser.

Mr. Hindley had gone from home one afternoon, and Heathcliff presumed to
give himself a holiday on the strength of it.  He had reached the age of
sixteen then, I think, and without having bad features, or being
deficient in intellect, he contrived to convey an impression of inward
and outward repulsiveness that his present aspect retains no traces of.
In the first place, he had by that time lost the benefit of his early
education: continual hard work, begun soon and concluded late, had
extinguished any curiosity he once possessed in pursuit of knowledge, and
any love for books or learning.  His childhood's sense of superiority,
instilled into him by the favours of old Mr. Earnshaw, was faded away.  He
struggled long to keep up an equality with Catherine in her studies, and
yielded with poignant though silent regret: but he yielded completely;
and there was no prevailing on him to take a step in the way of moving
upward, when he found he must, necessarily, sink beneath his former
level.  Then personal appearance sympathised with mental deterioration:
he acquired a slouching gait and ignoble look; his naturally reserved
disposition was exaggerated into an almost idiotic excess of unsociable
moroseness; and he took a grim pleasure, apparently, in exciting the
aversion rather than the esteem of his few acquaintances.

Catherine and he were constant companions still at his seasons of respite
from labour; but he had ceased to express his fondness for her in words,
and recoiled with angry suspicion from her girlish caresses, as if
conscious there could be no gratification in lavishing such marks of
affection on him.  On the before-named occasion he came into the house to
announce his intention of doing nothing, while I was assisting Miss Cathy
to arrange her dress: she had not reckoned on his taking it into his head
to be idle; and imagining she would have the whole place to herself, she
managed, by some means, to inform Mr. Edgar of her brother's absence, and
was then preparing to receive him.

'Cathy, are you busy this afternoon?' asked Heathcliff.  'Are you going
anywhere?'

'No, it is raining,' she answered.

'Why have you that silk frock on, then?' he said.  'Nobody coming here, I
hope?'

'Not that I know of,' stammered Miss: 'but you should be in the field
now, Heathcliff.  It is an hour past dinnertime: I thought you were
gone.'

'Hindley does not often free us from his accursed presence,' observed the
boy.  'I'll not work any more to-day: I'll stay with you.'

'Oh, but Joseph will tell,' she suggested; 'you'd better go!'

'Joseph is loading lime on the further side of Penistone Crags; it will
take him till dark, and he'll never know.'

So, saying, he lounged to the fire, and sat down.  Catherine reflected an
instant, with knitted brows--she found it needful to smooth the way for
an intrusion.  'Isabella and Edgar Linton talked of calling this
afternoon,' she said, at the conclusion of a minute's silence.  'As it
rains, I hardly expect them; but they may come, and if they do, you run
the risk of being scolded for no good.'

'Order Ellen to say you are engaged, Cathy,' he persisted; 'don't turn me
out for those pitiful, silly friends of yours!  I'm on the point,
sometimes, of complaining that they--but I'll not--'

'That they what?' cried Catherine, gazing at him with a troubled
countenance.  'Oh, Nelly!' she added petulantly, jerking her head away
from my hands, 'you've combed my hair quite out of curl!  That's enough;
let me alone.  What are you on the point of complaining about,
Heathcliff?'

'Nothing--only look at the almanack on that wall;' he pointed to a framed
sheet hanging near the window, and continued, 'The crosses are for the
evenings you have spent with the Lintons, the dots for those spent with
me.  Do you see?  I've marked every day.'

'Yes--very foolish: as if I took notice!' replied Catherine, in a peevish
tone.  'And where is the sense of that?'

'To show that I _do_ take notice,' said Heathcliff.

'And should I always be sitting with you?' she demanded, growing more
irritated.  'What good do I get?  What do you talk about?  You might be
dumb, or a baby, for anything you say to amuse me, or for anything you
do, either!'

'You never told me before that I talked too little, or that you disliked
my company, Cathy!' exclaimed Heathcliff, in much agitation.

'It's no company at all, when people know nothing and say nothing,' she
muttered.

Her companion rose up, but he hadn't time to express his feelings
further, for a horse's feet were heard on the flags, and having knocked
gently, young Linton entered, his face brilliant with delight at the
unexpected summon she had received.  Doubtless Catherine marked the
difference between her friends, as one came in and the other went out.
The contrast resembled what you see in exchanging a bleak, hilly, coal
country for a beautiful fertile valley; and his voice and greeting were
as opposite as his aspect.  He had a sweet, low manner of speaking, and
pronounced his words as you do: that's less gruff than we talk here, and
softer.

'I'm not come too soon, am I?' he said, casting a look at me: I had begun
to wipe the plate, and tidy some drawers at the far end in the dresser.

'No,' answered Catherine.  'What are you doing there, Nelly?'

'My work, Miss,' I replied.  (Mr. Hindley had given me directions to make
a third party in any private visits Linton chose to pay.)

She stepped behind me and whispered crossly, 'Take yourself and your
dusters off; when company are in the house, servants don't commence
scouring and cleaning in the room where they are!'

'It's a good opportunity, now that master is away,' I answered aloud: 'he
hates me to be fidgeting over these things in his presence.  I'm sure Mr.
Edgar will excuse me.'

'I hate you to be fidgeting in _my_ presence,' exclaimed the young lady
imperiously, not allowing her guest time to speak: she had failed to
recover her equanimity since the little dispute with Heathcliff.

'I'm sorry for it, Miss Catherine,' was my response; and I proceeded
assiduously with my occupation.

She, supposing Edgar could not see her, snatched the cloth from my hand,
and pinched me, with a prolonged wrench, very spitefully on the arm.  I've
said I did not love her, and rather relished mortifying her vanity now
and then: besides, she hurt me extremely; so I started up from my knees,
and screamed out, 'Oh, Miss, that's a nasty trick!  You have no right to
nip me, and I'm not going to bear it.'

'I didn't touch you, you lying creature!' cried she, her fingers tingling
to repeat the act, and her ears red with rage.  She never had power to
conceal her passion, it always set her whole complexion in a blaze.

'What's that, then?' I retorted, showing a decided purple witness to
refute her.

She stamped her foot, wavered a moment, and then, irresistibly impelled
by the naughty spirit within her, slapped me on the cheek: a stinging
blow that filled both eyes with water.

'Catherine, love!  Catherine!' interposed Linton, greatly shocked at the
double fault of falsehood and violence which his idol had committed.

'Leave the room, Ellen!' she repeated, trembling all over.

Little Hareton, who followed me everywhere, and was sitting near me on
the floor, at seeing my tears commenced crying himself, and sobbed out
complaints against 'wicked aunt Cathy,' which drew her fury on to his
unlucky head: she seized his shoulders, and shook him till the poor child
waxed livid, and Edgar thoughtlessly laid hold of her hands to deliver
him.  In an instant one was wrung free, and the astonished young man felt
it applied over his own ear in a way that could not be mistaken for jest.
He drew back in consternation.  I lifted Hareton in my arms, and walked
off to the kitchen with him, leaving the door of communication open, for
I was curious to watch how they would settle their disagreement.  The
insulted visitor moved to the spot where he had laid his hat, pale and
with a quivering lip.

'That's right!' I said to myself.  'Take warning and begone!  It's a
kindness to let you have a glimpse of her genuine disposition.'

'Where are you going?' demanded Catherine, advancing to the door.

He swerved aside, and attempted to pass.

'You must not go!' she exclaimed, energetically.

'I must and shall!' he replied in a subdued voice.

'No,' she persisted, grasping the handle; 'not yet, Edgar Linton: sit
down; you shall not leave me in that temper.  I should be miserable all
night, and I won't be miserable for you!'

'Can I stay after you have struck me?' asked Linton.

Catherine was mute.

'You've made me afraid and ashamed of you,' he continued; 'I'll not come
here again!'

Her eyes began to glisten and her lids to twinkle.

'And you told a deliberate untruth!' he said.

'I didn't!' she cried, recovering her speech; 'I did nothing
deliberately.  Well, go, if you please--get away!  And now I'll cry--I'll
cry myself sick!'

She dropped down on her knees by a chair, and set to weeping in serious
earnest.  Edgar persevered in his resolution as far as the court; there
he lingered.  I resolved to encourage him.

'Miss is dreadfully wayward, sir,' I called out.  'As bad as any marred
child: you'd better be riding home, or else she will be sick, only to
grieve us.'

The soft thing looked askance through the window: he possessed the power
to depart as much as a cat possesses the power to leave a mouse half
killed, or a bird half eaten.  Ah, I thought, there will be no saving
him: he's doomed, and flies to his fate!  And so it was: he turned
abruptly, hastened into the house again, shut the door behind him; and
when I went in a while after to inform them that Earnshaw had come home
rabid drunk, ready to pull the whole place about our ears (his ordinary
frame of mind in that condition), I saw the quarrel had merely effected a
closer intimacy--had broken the outworks of youthful timidity, and
enabled them to forsake the disguise of friendship, and confess
themselves lovers.

Intelligence of Mr. Hindley's arrival drove Linton speedily to his horse,
and Catherine to her chamber.  I went to hide little Hareton, and to take
the shot out of the master's fowling-piece, which he was fond of playing
with in his insane excitement, to the hazard of the lives of any who
provoked, or even attracted his notice too much; and I had hit upon the
plan of removing it, that he might do less mischief if he did go the
length of firing the gun.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Nelly skips ahead a bit in her story, to the summer of 1778, several months after the Lintons' visit and twenty-three years before Lockwood's arrival at the Grange. Frances gives birth to a baby boy, Hareton, but she dies not long afterwards, the strain of childbirth having aggravated her chronic consumption. Hindley assigns Nelly the task of raising the baby, as he takes no interest in the child. Miserable at Frances's death, Hindley begins to drink excessively and behaves abusively toward his servants--especially toward Heathcliff, who takes great pleasure in Hindley's steady decline. Catherine continues to spend time with Edgar Linton, and she behaves like a proper lady while with him. However, when she is with Heathcliff, she acts as she always has. One afternoon, when Hindley is out of the house, Heathcliff declares that he will stay home from the fields and spend the day with Catherine. She tells him ruefully that Edgar and Isabella are planning to visit. When Heathcliff confronts her about the amount of time she spends with Edgar, she retorts that Heathcliff is ignorant and dull. At that moment, Edgar enters--without Isabella--and Heathcliff storms away. Catherine asks Nelly to leave the room, but Nelly refuses, having been instructed by Hindley to act as Catherine's chaperone in Edgar's presence. Catherine pinches her and then slaps her, and when Hareton begins to cry, she shakes him. Edgar, appalled at Catherine's behavior, attempts to restore order, and Catherine boxes his ears. Edgar is unable to cope with Catherine's unladylike temper and hurries out of the house. On his way out, however, he catches a last glimpse of Catherine through the window; lured by her beauty, he comes back inside. Nelly now leaves them alone and interrupts them only to tell them that Hindley has arrived home, drunk and in a foul temper. When she next enters the room, she can tell that Catherine and Edgar have confessed their love for one another. Edgar hurries home to avoid Hindley, and Catherine goes to her chamber. Nelly goes to hide little Hareton and takes the shot out of Hindley's gun, which he is fond of playing with in his drunken rages


prompt:
Chapter: He entered, vociferating oaths dreadful to hear; and caught me in the act
of stowing his son away in the kitchen cupboard.  Hareton was impressed
with a wholesome terror of encountering either his wild beast's fondness
or his madman's rage; for in one he ran a chance of being squeezed and
kissed to death, and in the other of being flung into the fire, or dashed
against the wall; and the poor thing remained perfectly quiet wherever I
chose to put him.

'There, I've found it out at last!' cried Hindley, pulling me back by the
skin of my neck, like a dog.  'By heaven and hell, you've sworn between
you to murder that child!  I know how it is, now, that he is always out
of my way.  But, with the help of Satan, I shall make you swallow the
carving-knife, Nelly!  You needn't laugh; for I've just crammed Kenneth,
head-downmost, in the Black-horse marsh; and two is the same as one--and
I want to kill some of you: I shall have no rest till I do!'

'But I don't like the carving-knife, Mr. Hindley,' I answered; 'it has
been cutting red herrings.  I'd rather be shot, if you please.'

'You'd rather be damned!' he said; 'and so you shall.  No law in England
can hinder a man from keeping his house decent, and mine's abominable!
Open your mouth.'  He held the knife in his hand, and pushed its point
between my teeth: but, for my part, I was never much afraid of his
vagaries.  I spat out, and affirmed it tasted detestably--I would not
take it on any account.

'Oh!' said he, releasing me, 'I see that hideous little villain is not
Hareton: I beg your pardon, Nell.  If it be, he deserves flaying alive
for not running to welcome me, and for screaming as if I were a goblin.
Unnatural cub, come hither!  I'll teach thee to impose on a good-hearted,
deluded father.  Now, don't you think the lad would be handsomer cropped?
It makes a dog fiercer, and I love something fierce--get me a
scissors--something fierce and trim!  Besides, it's infernal
affectation--devilish conceit it is, to cherish our ears--we're asses
enough without them.  Hush, child, hush!  Well then, it is my darling!
wisht, dry thy eyes--there's a joy; kiss me.  What! it won't?  Kiss me,
Hareton!  Damn thee, kiss me!  By God, as if I would rear such a monster!
As sure as I'm living, I'll break the brat's neck.'

Poor Hareton was squalling and kicking in his father's arms with all his
might, and redoubled his yells when he carried him up-stairs and lifted
him over the banister.  I cried out that he would frighten the child into
fits, and ran to rescue him.  As I reached them, Hindley leant forward on
the rails to listen to a noise below; almost forgetting what he had in
his hands.  'Who is that?' he asked, hearing some one approaching the
stairs'-foot.  I leant forward also, for the purpose of signing to
Heathcliff, whose step I recognised, not to come further; and, at the
instant when my eye quitted Hareton, he gave a sudden spring, delivered
himself from the careless grasp that held him, and fell.

There was scarcely time to experience a thrill of horror before we saw
that the little wretch was safe.  Heathcliff arrived underneath just at
the critical moment; by a natural impulse he arrested his descent, and
setting him on his feet, looked up to discover the author of the
accident.  A miser who has parted with a lucky lottery ticket for five
shillings, and finds next day he has lost in the bargain five thousand
pounds, could not show a blanker countenance than he did on beholding the
figure of Mr. Earnshaw above.  It expressed, plainer than words could do,
the intensest anguish at having made himself the instrument of thwarting
his own revenge.  Had it been dark, I daresay he would have tried to
remedy the mistake by smashing Hareton's skull on the steps; but, we
witnessed his salvation; and I was presently below with my precious
charge pressed to my heart.  Hindley descended more leisurely, sobered
and abashed.

'It is your fault, Ellen,' he said; 'you should have kept him out of
sight: you should have taken him from me!  Is he injured anywhere?'

'Injured!' I cried angrily; 'if he is not killed, he'll be an idiot!  Oh!
I wonder his mother does not rise from her grave to see how you use him.
You're worse than a heathen--treating your own flesh and blood in that
manner!'  He attempted to touch the child, who, on finding himself with
me, sobbed off his terror directly.  At the first finger his father laid
on him, however, he shrieked again louder than before, and struggled as
if he would go into convulsions.

'You shall not meddle with him!' I continued.  'He hates you--they all
hate you--that's the truth!  A happy family you have; and a pretty state
you're come to!'

'I shall come to a prettier, yet, Nelly,' laughed the misguided man,
recovering his hardness.  'At present, convey yourself and him away.  And
hark you, Heathcliff! clear you too quite from my reach and hearing.  I
wouldn't murder you to-night; unless, perhaps, I set the house on fire:
but that's as my fancy goes.'

While saying this he took a pint bottle of brandy from the dresser, and
poured some into a tumbler.

'Nay, don't!' I entreated.  'Mr. Hindley, do take warning.  Have mercy on
this unfortunate boy, if you care nothing for yourself!'

'Any one will do better for him than I shall,' he answered.

'Have mercy on your own soul!' I said, endeavouring to snatch the glass
from his hand.

'Not I!  On the contrary, I shall have great pleasure in sending it to
perdition to punish its Maker,' exclaimed the blasphemer.  'Here's to its
hearty damnation!'

He drank the spirits and impatiently bade us go; terminating his command
with a sequel of horrid imprecations too bad to repeat or remember.

'It's a pity he cannot kill himself with drink,' observed Heathcliff,
muttering an echo of curses back when the door was shut.  'He's doing his
very utmost; but his constitution defies him.  Mr. Kenneth says he would
wager his mare that he'll outlive any man on this side Gimmerton, and go
to the grave a hoary sinner; unless some happy chance out of the common
course befall him.'

I went into the kitchen, and sat down to lull my little lamb to sleep.
Heathcliff, as I thought, walked through to the barn.  It turned out
afterwards that he only got as far as the other side the settle, when he
flung himself on a bench by the wall, removed from the fire and remained
silent.

I was rocking Hareton on my knee, and humming a song that began,--

   It was far in the night, and the bairnies grat,
   The mither beneath the mools heard that,

when Miss Cathy, who had listened to the hubbub from her room, put her
head in, and whispered,--'Are you alone, Nelly?'

'Yes, Miss,' I replied.

She entered and approached the hearth.  I, supposing she was going to say
something, looked up.  The expression of her face seemed disturbed and
anxious.  Her lips were half asunder, as if she meant to speak, and she
drew a breath; but it escaped in a sigh instead of a sentence.  I resumed
my song; not having forgotten her recent behaviour.

'Where's Heathcliff?' she said, interrupting me.

'About his work in the stable,' was my answer.

He did not contradict me; perhaps he had fallen into a doze.  There
followed another long pause, during which I perceived a drop or two
trickle from Catherine's cheek to the flags.  Is she sorry for her
shameful conduct?--I asked myself.  That will be a novelty: but she may
come to the point--as she will--I sha'n't help her!  No, she felt small
trouble regarding any subject, save her own concerns.

'Oh, dear!' she cried at last.  'I'm very unhappy!'

'A pity,' observed I.  'You're hard to please; so many friends and so few
cares, and can't make yourself content!'

'Nelly, will you keep a secret for me?' she pursued, kneeling down by me,
and lifting her winsome eyes to my face with that sort of look which
turns off bad temper, even when one has all the right in the world to
indulge it.

'Is it worth keeping?' I inquired, less sulkily.

'Yes, and it worries me, and I must let it out!  I want to know what I
should do.  To-day, Edgar Linton has asked me to marry him, and I've
given him an answer.  Now, before I tell you whether it was a consent or
denial, you tell me which it ought to have been.'

'Really, Miss Catherine, how can I know?' I replied.  'To be sure,
considering the exhibition you performed in his presence this afternoon,
I might say it would be wise to refuse him: since he asked you after
that, he must either be hopelessly stupid or a venturesome fool.'

'If you talk so, I won't tell you any more,' she returned, peevishly
rising to her feet.  'I accepted him, Nelly.  Be quick, and say whether I
was wrong!'

'You accepted him!  Then what good is it discussing the matter?  You have
pledged your word, and cannot retract.'

'But say whether I should have done so--do!' she exclaimed in an
irritated tone; chafing her hands together, and frowning.

'There are many things to be considered before that question can be
answered properly,' I said, sententiously.  'First and foremost, do you
love Mr. Edgar?'

'Who can help it?  Of course I do,' she answered.

Then I put her through the following catechism: for a girl of twenty-two
it was not injudicious.

'Why do you love him, Miss Cathy?'

'Nonsense, I do--that's sufficient.'

'By no means; you must say why?'

'Well, because he is handsome, and pleasant to be with.'

'Bad!' was my commentary.

'And because he is young and cheerful.'

'Bad, still.'

'And because he loves me.'

'Indifferent, coming there.'

'And he will be rich, and I shall like to be the greatest woman of the
neighbourhood, and I shall be proud of having such a husband.'

'Worst of all.  And now, say how you love him?'

'As everybody loves--You're silly, Nelly.'

'Not at all--Answer.'

'I love the ground under his feet, and the air over his head, and
everything he touches, and every word he says.  I love all his looks, and
all his actions, and him entirely and altogether.  There now!'

'And why?'

'Nay; you are making a jest of it: it is exceedingly ill-natured!  It's
no jest to me!' said the young lady, scowling, and turning her face to
the fire.

'I'm very far from jesting, Miss Catherine,' I replied.  'You love Mr.
Edgar because he is handsome, and young, and cheerful, and rich, and
loves you.  The last, however, goes for nothing: you would love him
without that, probably; and with it you wouldn't, unless he possessed the
four former attractions.'

'No, to be sure not: I should only pity him--hate him, perhaps, if he
were ugly, and a clown.'

'But there are several other handsome, rich young men in the world:
handsomer, possibly, and richer than he is.  What should hinder you from
loving them?'

'If there be any, they are out of my way: I've seen none like Edgar.'

'You may see some; and he won't always be handsome, and young, and may
not always be rich.'

'He is now; and I have only to do with the present.  I wish you would
speak rationally.'

'Well, that settles it: if you have only to do with the present, marry
Mr. Linton.'

'I don't want your permission for that--I _shall_ marry him: and yet you
have not told me whether I'm right.'

'Perfectly right; if people be right to marry only for the present.  And
now, let us hear what you are unhappy about.  Your brother will be
pleased; the old lady and gentleman will not object, I think; you will
escape from a disorderly, comfortless home into a wealthy, respectable
one; and you love Edgar, and Edgar loves you.  All seems smooth and easy:
where is the obstacle?'

'_Here_! and _here_!' replied Catherine, striking one hand on her
forehead, and the other on her breast: 'in whichever place the soul
lives.  In my soul and in my heart, I'm convinced I'm wrong!'

'That's very strange!  I cannot make it out.'

'It's my secret.  But if you will not mock at me, I'll explain it: I
can't do it distinctly; but I'll give you a feeling of how I feel.'

She seated herself by me again: her countenance grew sadder and graver,
and her clasped hands trembled.

'Nelly, do you never dream queer dreams?' she said, suddenly, after some
minutes' reflection.

'Yes, now and then,' I answered.

'And so do I.  I've dreamt in my life dreams that have stayed with me
ever after, and changed my ideas: they've gone through and through me,
like wine through water, and altered the colour of my mind.  And this is
one: I'm going to tell it--but take care not to smile at any part of it.'

'Oh! don't, Miss Catherine!' I cried.  'We're dismal enough without
conjuring up ghosts and visions to perplex us.  Come, come, be merry and
like yourself!  Look at little Hareton! _he's_ dreaming nothing dreary.
How sweetly he smiles in his sleep!'

'Yes; and how sweetly his father curses in his solitude!  You remember
him, I daresay, when he was just such another as that chubby thing:
nearly as young and innocent.  However, Nelly, I shall oblige you to
listen: it's not long; and I've no power to be merry to-night.'

'I won't hear it, I won't hear it!' I repeated, hastily.

I was superstitious about dreams then, and am still; and Catherine had an
unusual gloom in her aspect, that made me dread something from which I
might shape a prophecy, and foresee a fearful catastrophe.  She was
vexed, but she did not proceed.  Apparently taking up another subject,
she recommenced in a short time.

'If I were in heaven, Nelly, I should be extremely miserable.'

'Because you are not fit to go there,' I answered.  'All sinners would be
miserable in heaven.'

'But it is not for that.  I dreamt once that I was there.'

'I tell you I won't hearken to your dreams, Miss Catherine!  I'll go to
bed,' I interrupted again.

She laughed, and held me down; for I made a motion to leave my chair.

'This is nothing,' cried she: 'I was only going to say that heaven did
not seem to be my home; and I broke my heart with weeping to come back to
earth; and the angels were so angry that they flung me out into the
middle of the heath on the top of Wuthering Heights; where I woke sobbing
for joy.  That will do to explain my secret, as well as the other.  I've
no more business to marry Edgar Linton than I have to be in heaven; and
if the wicked man in there had not brought Heathcliff so low, I shouldn't
have thought of it.  It would degrade me to marry Heathcliff now; so he
shall never know how I love him: and that, not because he's handsome,
Nelly, but because he's more myself than I am.  Whatever our souls are
made of, his and mine are the same; and Linton's is as different as a
moonbeam from lightning, or frost from fire.'

Ere this speech ended I became sensible of Heathcliff's presence.  Having
noticed a slight movement, I turned my head, and saw him rise from the
bench, and steal out noiselessly.  He had listened till he heard
Catherine say it would degrade her to marry him, and then he stayed to
hear no further.  My companion, sitting on the ground, was prevented by
the back of the settle from remarking his presence or departure; but I
started, and bade her hush!

'Why?' she asked, gazing nervously round.

'Joseph is here,' I answered, catching opportunely the roll of his
cartwheels up the road; 'and Heathcliff will come in with him.  I'm not
sure whether he were not at the door this moment.'

'Oh, he couldn't overhear me at the door!' said she.  'Give me Hareton,
while you get the supper, and when it is ready ask me to sup with you.  I
want to cheat my uncomfortable conscience, and be convinced that
Heathcliff has no notion of these things.  He has not, has he?  He does
not know what being in love is!'

'I see no reason that he should not know, as well as you,' I returned;
'and if you are his choice, he'll be the most unfortunate creature that
ever was born!  As soon as you become Mrs. Linton, he loses friend, and
love, and all!  Have you considered how you'll bear the separation, and
how he'll bear to be quite deserted in the world?  Because, Miss
Catherine--'

'He quite deserted! we separated!' she exclaimed, with an accent of
indignation.  'Who is to separate us, pray?  They'll meet the fate of
Milo!  Not as long as I live, Ellen: for no mortal creature.  Every
Linton on the face of the earth might melt into nothing before I could
consent to forsake Heathcliff.  Oh, that's not what I intend--that's not
what I mean!  I shouldn't be Mrs. Linton were such a price demanded!
He'll be as much to me as he has been all his lifetime.  Edgar must shake
off his antipathy, and tolerate him, at least.  He will, when he learns
my true feelings towards him.  Nelly, I see now you think me a selfish
wretch; but did it never strike you that if Heathcliff and I married, we
should be beggars? whereas, if I marry Linton I can aid Heathcliff to
rise, and place him out of my brother's power.'

'With your husband's money, Miss Catherine?' I asked.  'You'll find him
not so pliable as you calculate upon: and, though I'm hardly a judge, I
think that's the worst motive you've given yet for being the wife of
young Linton.'

'It is not,' retorted she; 'it is the best!  The others were the
satisfaction of my whims: and for Edgar's sake, too, to satisfy him.  This
is for the sake of one who comprehends in his person my feelings to Edgar
and myself.  I cannot express it; but surely you and everybody have a
notion that there is or should be an existence of yours beyond you.  What
were the use of my creation, if I were entirely contained here?  My great
miseries in this world have been Heathcliff's miseries, and I watched and
felt each from the beginning: my great thought in living is himself.  If
all else perished, and _he_ remained, _I_ should still continue to be;
and if all else remained, and he were annihilated, the universe would
turn to a mighty stranger: I should not seem a part of it.--My love for
Linton is like the foliage in the woods: time will change it, I'm well
aware, as winter changes the trees.  My love for Heathcliff resembles the
eternal rocks beneath: a source of little visible delight, but necessary.
Nelly, I _am_ Heathcliff!  He's always, always in my mind: not as a
pleasure, any more than I am always a pleasure to myself, but as my own
being.  So don't talk of our separation again: it is impracticable; and--'

She paused, and hid her face in the folds of my gown; but I jerked it
forcibly away.  I was out of patience with her folly!

'If I can make any sense of your nonsense, Miss,' I said, 'it only goes
to convince me that you are ignorant of the duties you undertake in
marrying; or else that you are a wicked, unprincipled girl.  But trouble
me with no more secrets: I'll not promise to keep them.'

'You'll keep that?' she asked, eagerly.

'No, I'll not promise,' I repeated.

She was about to insist, when the entrance of Joseph finished our
conversation; and Catherine removed her seat to a corner, and nursed
Hareton, while I made the supper.  After it was cooked, my fellow-servant
and I began to quarrel who should carry some to Mr. Hindley; and we
didn't settle it till all was nearly cold.  Then we came to the agreement
that we would let him ask, if he wanted any; for we feared particularly
to go into his presence when he had been some time alone.

'And how isn't that nowt comed in fro' th' field, be this time?  What is
he about? girt idle seeght!' demanded the old man, looking round for
Heathcliff.

'I'll call him,' I replied.  'He's in the barn, I've no doubt.'

I went and called, but got no answer.  On returning, I whispered to
Catherine that he had heard a good part of what she said, I was sure; and
told how I saw him quit the kitchen just as she complained of her
brother's conduct regarding him.  She jumped up in a fine fright, flung
Hareton on to the settle, and ran to seek for her friend herself; not
taking leisure to consider why she was so flurried, or how her talk would
have affected him.  She was absent such a while that Joseph proposed we
should wait no longer.  He cunningly conjectured they were staying away
in order to avoid hearing his protracted blessing.  They were 'ill eneugh
for ony fahl manners,' he affirmed.  And on their behalf he added that
night a special prayer to the usual quarter-of-an-hour's supplication
before meat, and would have tacked another to the end of the grace, had
not his young mistress broken in upon him with a hurried command that he
must run down the road, and, wherever Heathcliff had rambled, find and
make him re-enter directly!

'I want to speak to him, and I _must_, before I go upstairs,' she said.
'And the gate is open: he is somewhere out of hearing; for he would not
reply, though I shouted at the top of the fold as loud as I could.'

Joseph objected at first; she was too much in earnest, however, to suffer
contradiction; and at last he placed his hat on his head, and walked
grumbling forth.  Meantime, Catherine paced up and down the floor,
exclaiming--'I wonder where he is--I wonder where he can be!  What did I
say, Nelly?  I've forgotten.  Was he vexed at my bad humour this
afternoon?  Dear! tell me what I've said to grieve him?  I do wish he'd
come.  I do wish he would!'

'What a noise for nothing!' I cried, though rather uneasy myself.  'What
a trifle scares you!  It's surely no great cause of alarm that Heathcliff
should take a moonlight saunter on the moors, or even lie too sulky to
speak to us in the hay-loft.  I'll engage he's lurking there.  See if I
don't ferret him out!'

I departed to renew my search; its result was disappointment, and
Joseph's quest ended in the same.

'Yon lad gets war und war!' observed he on re-entering.  'He's left th'
gate at t' full swing, and Miss's pony has trodden dahn two rigs o' corn,
and plottered through, raight o'er into t' meadow!  Hahsomdiver, t'
maister 'ull play t' devil to-morn, and he'll do weel.  He's patience
itsseln wi' sich careless, offald craters--patience itsseln he is!  Bud
he'll not be soa allus--yah's see, all on ye!  Yah mun'n't drive him out
of his heead for nowt!'

'Have you found Heathcliff, you ass?' interrupted Catherine.  'Have you
been looking for him, as I ordered?'

'I sud more likker look for th' horse,' he replied.  'It 'ud be to more
sense.  Bud I can look for norther horse nur man of a neeght loike
this--as black as t' chimbley! und Heathcliff's noan t' chap to coom at
_my_ whistle--happen he'll be less hard o' hearing wi' _ye_!'

It _was_ a very dark evening for summer: the clouds appeared inclined to
thunder, and I said we had better all sit down; the approaching rain
would be certain to bring him home without further trouble.  However,
Catherine would not be persuaded into tranquillity.  She kept wandering
to and fro, from the gate to the door, in a state of agitation which
permitted no repose; and at length took up a permanent situation on one
side of the wall, near the road: where, heedless of my expostulations and
the growling thunder, and the great drops that began to plash around her,
she remained, calling at intervals, and then listening, and then crying
outright.  She beat Hareton, or any child, at a good passionate fit of
crying.

About midnight, while we still sat up, the storm came rattling over the
Heights in full fury.  There was a violent wind, as well as thunder, and
either one or the other split a tree off at the corner of the building: a
huge bough fell across the roof, and knocked down a portion of the east
chimney-stack, sending a clatter of stones and soot into the
kitchen-fire.  We thought a bolt had fallen in the middle of us; and
Joseph swung on to his knees, beseeching the Lord to remember the
patriarchs Noah and Lot, and, as in former times, spare the righteous,
though he smote the ungodly.  I felt some sentiment that it must be a
judgment on us also.  The Jonah, in my mind, was Mr. Earnshaw; and I
shook the handle of his den that I might ascertain if he were yet living.
He replied audibly enough, in a fashion which made my companion
vociferate, more clamorously than before, that a wide distinction might
be drawn between saints like himself and sinners like his master.  But
the uproar passed away in twenty minutes, leaving us all unharmed;
excepting Cathy, who got thoroughly drenched for her obstinacy in
refusing to take shelter, and standing bonnetless and shawlless to catch
as much water as she could with her hair and clothes.  She came in and
lay down on the settle, all soaked as she was, turning her face to the
back, and putting her hands before it.

'Well, Miss!' I exclaimed, touching her shoulder; 'you are not bent on
getting your death, are you?  Do you know what o'clock it is?  Half-past
twelve.  Come, come to bed! there's no use waiting any longer on that
foolish boy: he'll be gone to Gimmerton, and he'll stay there now.  He
guesses we shouldn't wait for him till this late hour: at least, he
guesses that only Mr. Hindley would be up; and he'd rather avoid having
the door opened by the master.'

'Nay, nay, he's noan at Gimmerton,' said Joseph.  'I's niver wonder but
he's at t' bothom of a bog-hoile.  This visitation worn't for nowt, and I
wod hev' ye to look out, Miss--yah muh be t' next.  Thank Hivin for all!
All warks togither for gooid to them as is chozzen, and piked out fro'
th' rubbidge!  Yah knaw whet t' Scripture ses.'  And he began quoting
several texts, referring us to chapters and verses where we might find
them.

I, having vainly begged the wilful girl to rise and remove her wet
things, left him preaching and her shivering, and betook myself to bed
with little Hareton, who slept as fast as if everyone had been sleeping
round him.  I heard Joseph read on a while afterwards; then I
distinguished his slow step on the ladder, and then I dropped asleep.

Coming down somewhat later than usual, I saw, by the sunbeams piercing
the chinks of the shutters, Miss Catherine still seated near the
fireplace.  The house-door was ajar, too; light entered from its unclosed
windows; Hindley had come out, and stood on the kitchen hearth, haggard
and drowsy.

'What ails you, Cathy?' he was saying when I entered: 'you look as dismal
as a drowned whelp.  Why are you so damp and pale, child?'

'I've been wet,' she answered reluctantly, 'and I'm cold, that's all.'

'Oh, she is naughty!' I cried, perceiving the master to be tolerably
sober.  'She got steeped in the shower of yesterday evening, and there
she has sat the night through, and I couldn't prevail on her to stir.'

Mr. Earnshaw stared at us in surprise.  'The night through,' he repeated.
'What kept her up? not fear of the thunder, surely?  That was over hours
since.'

Neither of us wished to mention Heathcliff's absence, as long as we could
conceal it; so I replied, I didn't know how she took it into her head to
sit up; and she said nothing.  The morning was fresh and cool; I threw
back the lattice, and presently the room filled with sweet scents from
the garden; but Catherine called peevishly to me, 'Ellen, shut the
window.  I'm starving!'  And her teeth chattered as she shrank closer to
the almost extinguished embers.

'She's ill,' said Hindley, taking her wrist; 'I suppose that's the reason
she would not go to bed.  Damn it!  I don't want to be troubled with more
sickness here.  What took you into the rain?'

'Running after t' lads, as usuald!' croaked Joseph, catching an
opportunity from our hesitation to thrust in his evil tongue.  'If I war
yah, maister, I'd just slam t' boards i' their faces all on 'em, gentle
and simple!  Never a day ut yah're off, but yon cat o' Linton comes
sneaking hither; and Miss Nelly, shoo's a fine lass! shoo sits watching
for ye i' t' kitchen; and as yah're in at one door, he's out at t'other;
and, then, wer grand lady goes a-courting of her side!  It's bonny
behaviour, lurking amang t' fields, after twelve o' t' night, wi' that
fahl, flaysome divil of a gipsy, Heathcliff!  They think _I'm_ blind; but
I'm noan: nowt ut t' soart!--I seed young Linton boath coming and going,
and I seed _yah_' (directing his discourse to me), 'yah gooid fur nowt,
slattenly witch! nip up and bolt into th' house, t' minute yah heard t'
maister's horse-fit clatter up t' road.'

'Silence, eavesdropper!' cried Catherine; 'none of your insolence before
me!  Edgar Linton came yesterday by chance, Hindley; and it was _I_ who
told him to be off: because I knew you would not like to have met him as
you were.'

'You lie, Cathy, no doubt,' answered her brother, 'and you are a
confounded simpleton!  But never mind Linton at present: tell me, were
you not with Heathcliff last night?  Speak the truth, now.  You need not
be afraid of harming him: though I hate him as much as ever, he did me a
good turn a short time since that will make my conscience tender of
breaking his neck.  To prevent it, I shall send him about his business
this very morning; and after he's gone, I'd advise you all to look sharp:
I shall only have the more humour for you.'

'I never saw Heathcliff last night,' answered Catherine, beginning to sob
bitterly: 'and if you do turn him out of doors, I'll go with him.  But,
perhaps, you'll never have an opportunity: perhaps, he's gone.'  Here she
burst into uncontrollable grief, and the remainder of her words were
inarticulate.

Hindley lavished on her a torrent of scornful abuse, and bade her get to
her room immediately, or she shouldn't cry for nothing!  I obliged her to
obey; and I shall never forget what a scene she acted when we reached her
chamber: it terrified me.  I thought she was going mad, and I begged
Joseph to run for the doctor.  It proved the commencement of delirium:
Mr. Kenneth, as soon as he saw her, pronounced her dangerously ill; she
had a fever.  He bled her, and he told me to let her live on whey and
water-gruel, and take care she did not throw herself downstairs or out of
the window; and then he left: for he had enough to do in the parish,
where two or three miles was the ordinary distance between cottage and
cottage.

Though I cannot say I made a gentle nurse, and Joseph and the master were
no better, and though our patient was as wearisome and headstrong as a
patient could be, she weathered it through.  Old Mrs. Linton paid us
several visits, to be sure, and set things to rights, and scolded and
ordered us all; and when Catherine was convalescent, she insisted on
conveying her to Thrushcross Grange: for which deliverance we were very
grateful.  But the poor dame had reason to repent of her kindness: she
and her husband both took the fever, and died within a few days of each
other.

Our young lady returned to us saucier and more passionate, and haughtier
than ever.  Heathcliff had never been heard of since the evening of the
thunder-storm; and, one day, I had the misfortune, when she had provoked
me exceedingly, to lay the blame of his disappearance on her: where
indeed it belonged, as she well knew.  From that period, for several
months, she ceased to hold any communication with me, save in the
relation of a mere servant.  Joseph fell under a ban also: he would speak
his mind, and lecture her all the same as if she were a little girl; and
she esteemed herself a woman, and our mistress, and thought that her
recent illness gave her a claim to be treated with consideration.  Then
the doctor had said that she would not bear crossing much; she ought to
have her own way; and it was nothing less than murder in her eyes for any
one to presume to stand up and contradict her.  From Mr. Earnshaw and his
companions she kept aloof; and tutored by Kenneth, and serious threats of
a fit that often attended her rages, her brother allowed her whatever she
pleased to demand, and generally avoided aggravating her fiery temper.  He
was rather too indulgent in humouring her caprices; not from affection,
but from pride: he wished earnestly to see her bring honour to the family
by an alliance with the Lintons, and as long as she let him alone she
might trample on us like slaves, for aught he cared!  Edgar Linton, as
multitudes have been before and will be after him, was infatuated: and
believed himself the happiest man alive on the day he led her to
Gimmerton Chapel, three years subsequent to his father's death.

Much against my inclination, I was persuaded to leave Wuthering Heights
and accompany her here. Little Hareton was nearly five years old, and I
had just begun to teach him his letters.  We made a sad parting; but
Catherine's tears were more powerful than ours.  When I refused to go,
and when she found her entreaties did not move me, she went lamenting to
her husband and brother.  The former offered me munificent wages; the
latter ordered me to pack up: he wanted no women in the house, he said,
now that there was no mistress; and as to Hareton, the curate should take
him in hand, by-and-by.  And so I had but one choice left: to do as I was
ordered.  I told the master he got rid of all decent people only to run
to ruin a little faster; I kissed Hareton, said good-by; and since then
he has been a stranger: and it's very queer to think it, but I've no
doubt he has completely forgotten all about Ellen Dean, and that he was
ever more than all the world to her and she to him!

* * * * *

At this point of the housekeeper's story she chanced to glance towards
the time-piece over the chimney; and was in amazement on seeing the
minute-hand measure half-past one.  She would not hear of staying a
second longer: in truth, I felt rather disposed to defer the sequel of
her narrative myself.  And now that she is vanished to her rest, and I
have meditated for another hour or two, I shall summon courage to go
also, in spite of aching laziness of head and limbs.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Heathcliff. shall never know how I love him. he's more myself than I am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same. Nelly is in the midst of hiding Hareton from Hindley when Hindley bolts in and seizes the boy. Stumbling drunkenly, he accidentally drops Hareton over the banister. Heathcliff is there to catch him at the bottom of the stairs. Later that evening, Catherine seeks out Nelly in the kitchen and confides to her that Edgar has asked her to marry him, and that she has accepted. Unnoticed by the two women, Heathcliff listens to their conversation. Heathcliff hears Catherine tell Nelly that she cannot marry him because Hindley has cast him down so low; to marry him now would be to degrade herself. Heathcliff withdraws in a rage of shame, humiliation, and despair, and thus is not present to hear Catherine say that she loves him more deeply than anything else in the world. She says that she and Heathcliff are such kindred spirits that they are essentially the same person. Nonetheless, she insists, she must marry Edgar Linton instead. That night, Heathcliff runs away from Wuthering Heights. Catherine spends the night outdoors in the rain, sobbing and searching for Heathcliff. She catches a fever, and soon she nears death. The Lintons take her to Thrushcross Grange to recuperate, and Catherine recovers. However, both Mr. and Mrs. Linton become infected and soon die. Three years later, Catherine and Edgar marry. Nelly transfers to Thrushcross Grange to serve Catherine, leaving Hareton in the care of his drunken father and Joseph, the only servant now remaining at Wuthering Heights. Noticing the clock, Nelly again interrupts her narrative, saying that it is half past one, and that she must get some sleep. Lockwood notes in his diary--the same book in which he has set down Nelly's story--that he, too, will go to bed now