text:
Chapter: 'These things happened last winter, sir,' said Mrs. Dean; 'hardly more
than a year ago.  Last winter, I did not think, at another twelve months'
end, I should be amusing a stranger to the family with relating them!
Yet, who knows how long you'll be a stranger?  You're too young to rest
always contented, living by yourself; and I some way fancy no one could
see Catherine Linton and not love her.  You smile; but why do you look so
lively and interested when I talk about her? and why have you asked me to
hang her picture over your fireplace? and why--?'

'Stop, my good friend!' I cried.  'It may be very possible that _I_
should love her; but would she love me?  I doubt it too much to venture
my tranquillity by running into temptation: and then my home is not here.
I'm of the busy world, and to its arms I must return.  Go on.  Was
Catherine obedient to her father's commands?'

'She was,' continued the housekeeper.  'Her affection for him was still
the chief sentiment in her heart; and he spoke without anger: he spoke in
the deep tenderness of one about to leave his treasure amid perils and
foes, where his remembered words would be the only aid that he could
bequeath to guide her.  He said to me, a few days afterwards, "I wish my
nephew would write, Ellen, or call.  Tell me, sincerely, what you think
of him: is he changed for the better, or is there a prospect of
improvement, as he grows a man?"

'"He's very delicate, sir," I replied; "and scarcely likely to reach
manhood: but this I can say, he does not resemble his father; and if Miss
Catherine had the misfortune to marry him, he would not be beyond her
control: unless she were extremely and foolishly indulgent.  However,
master, you'll have plenty of time to get acquainted with him and see
whether he would suit her: it wants four years and more to his being of
age."'

Edgar sighed; and, walking to the window, looked out towards Gimmerton
Kirk. It was a misty afternoon, but the February sun shone dimly, and we
could just distinguish the two fir-trees in the yard, and the
sparely-scattered gravestones.

'I've prayed often,' he half soliloquised, 'for the approach of what is
coming; and now I begin to shrink, and fear it.  I thought the memory of
the hour I came down that glen a bridegroom would be less sweet than the
anticipation that I was soon, in a few months, or, possibly, weeks, to be
carried up, and laid in its lonely hollow!  Ellen, I've been very happy
with my little Cathy: through winter nights and summer days she was a
living hope at my side.  But I've been as happy musing by myself among
those stones, under that old church: lying, through the long June
evenings, on the green mound of her mother's grave, and wishing--yearning
for the time when I might lie beneath it.  What can I do for Cathy?  How
must I quit her?  I'd not care one moment for Linton being Heathcliff's
son; nor for his taking her from me, if he could console her for my loss.
I'd not care that Heathcliff gained his ends, and triumphed in robbing me
of my last blessing!  But should Linton be unworthy--only a feeble tool
to his father--I cannot abandon her to him!  And, hard though it be to
crush her buoyant spirit, I must persevere in making her sad while I
live, and leaving her solitary when I die.  Darling!  I'd rather resign
her to God, and lay her in the earth before me.'

'Resign her to God as it is, sir,' I answered, 'and if we should lose
you--which may He forbid--under His providence, I'll stand her friend and
counsellor to the last.  Miss Catherine is a good girl: I don't fear that
she will go wilfully wrong; and people who do their duty are always
finally rewarded.'

Spring advanced; yet my master gathered no real strength, though he
resumed his walks in the grounds with his daughter.  To her inexperienced
notions, this itself was a sign of convalescence; and then his cheek was
often flushed, and his eyes were bright; she felt sure of his recovering.
On her seventeenth birthday, he did not visit the churchyard: it was
raining, and I observed--'You'll surely not go out to-night, sir?'

He answered,--'No, I'll defer it this year a little longer.'  He wrote
again to Linton, expressing his great desire to see him; and, had the
invalid been presentable, I've no doubt his father would have permitted
him to come.  As it was, being instructed, he returned an answer,
intimating that Mr. Heathcliff objected to his calling at the Grange; but
his uncle's kind remembrance delighted him, and he hoped to meet him
sometimes in his rambles, and personally to petition that his cousin and
he might not remain long so utterly divided.

That part of his letter was simple, and probably his own.  Heathcliff
knew he could plead eloquently for Catherine's company, then.

'I do not ask,' he said, 'that she may visit here; but am I never to see
her, because my father forbids me to go to her home, and you forbid her
to come to mine?  Do, now and then, ride with her towards the Heights;
and let us exchange a few words, in your presence!  We have done nothing
to deserve this separation; and you are not angry with me: you have no
reason to dislike me, you allow, yourself.  Dear uncle! send me a kind
note to-morrow, and leave to join you anywhere you please, except at
Thrushcross Grange.  I believe an interview would convince you that my
father's character is not mine: he affirms I am more your nephew than his
son; and though I have faults which render me unworthy of Catherine, she
has excused them, and for her sake, you should also.  You inquire after
my health--it is better; but while I remain cut off from all hope, and
doomed to solitude, or the society of those who never did and never will
like me, how can I be cheerful and well?'

Edgar, though he felt for the boy, could not consent to grant his
request; because he could not accompany Catherine.  He said, in summer,
perhaps, they might meet: meantime, he wished him to continue writing at
intervals, and engaged to give him what advice and comfort he was able by
letter; being well aware of his hard position in his family.  Linton
complied; and had he been unrestrained, would probably have spoiled all
by filling his epistles with complaints and lamentations: but his father
kept a sharp watch over him; and, of course, insisted on every line that
my master sent being shown; so, instead of penning his peculiar personal
sufferings and distresses, the themes constantly uppermost in his
thoughts, he harped on the cruel obligation of being held asunder from
his friend and love; and gently intimated that Mr. Linton must allow an
interview soon, or he should fear he was purposely deceiving him with
empty promises.

Cathy was a powerful ally at home; and between them they at length
persuaded my master to acquiesce in their having a ride or a walk
together about once a week, under my guardianship, and on the moors
nearest the Grange: for June found him still declining.  Though he had
set aside yearly a portion of his income for my young lady's fortune, he
had a natural desire that she might retain--or at least return in a short
time to--the house of her ancestors; and he considered her only prospect
of doing that was by a union with his heir; he had no idea that the
latter was failing almost as fast as himself; nor had any one, I believe:
no doctor visited the Heights, and no one saw Master Heathcliff to make
report of his condition among us.  I, for my part, began to fancy my
forebodings were false, and that he must be actually rallying, when he
mentioned riding and walking on the moors, and seemed so earnest in
pursuing his object.  I could not picture a father treating a dying child
as tyrannically and wickedly as I afterwards learned Heathcliff had
treated him, to compel this apparent eagerness: his efforts redoubling
the more imminently his avaricious and unfeeling plans were threatened
with defeat by death.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A: Chapter 25

prompt:
Chapter: 'These things happened last winter, sir,' said Mrs. Dean; 'hardly more
than a year ago.  Last winter, I did not think, at another twelve months'
end, I should be amusing a stranger to the family with relating them!
Yet, who knows how long you'll be a stranger?  You're too young to rest
always contented, living by yourself; and I some way fancy no one could
see Catherine Linton and not love her.  You smile; but why do you look so
lively and interested when I talk about her? and why have you asked me to
hang her picture over your fireplace? and why--?'

'Stop, my good friend!' I cried.  'It may be very possible that _I_
should love her; but would she love me?  I doubt it too much to venture
my tranquillity by running into temptation: and then my home is not here.
I'm of the busy world, and to its arms I must return.  Go on.  Was
Catherine obedient to her father's commands?'

'She was,' continued the housekeeper.  'Her affection for him was still
the chief sentiment in her heart; and he spoke without anger: he spoke in
the deep tenderness of one about to leave his treasure amid perils and
foes, where his remembered words would be the only aid that he could
bequeath to guide her.  He said to me, a few days afterwards, "I wish my
nephew would write, Ellen, or call.  Tell me, sincerely, what you think
of him: is he changed for the better, or is there a prospect of
improvement, as he grows a man?"

'"He's very delicate, sir," I replied; "and scarcely likely to reach
manhood: but this I can say, he does not resemble his father; and if Miss
Catherine had the misfortune to marry him, he would not be beyond her
control: unless she were extremely and foolishly indulgent.  However,
master, you'll have plenty of time to get acquainted with him and see
whether he would suit her: it wants four years and more to his being of
age."'

Edgar sighed; and, walking to the window, looked out towards Gimmerton
Kirk. It was a misty afternoon, but the February sun shone dimly, and we
could just distinguish the two fir-trees in the yard, and the
sparely-scattered gravestones.

'I've prayed often,' he half soliloquised, 'for the approach of what is
coming; and now I begin to shrink, and fear it.  I thought the memory of
the hour I came down that glen a bridegroom would be less sweet than the
anticipation that I was soon, in a few months, or, possibly, weeks, to be
carried up, and laid in its lonely hollow!  Ellen, I've been very happy
with my little Cathy: through winter nights and summer days she was a
living hope at my side.  But I've been as happy musing by myself among
those stones, under that old church: lying, through the long June
evenings, on the green mound of her mother's grave, and wishing--yearning
for the time when I might lie beneath it.  What can I do for Cathy?  How
must I quit her?  I'd not care one moment for Linton being Heathcliff's
son; nor for his taking her from me, if he could console her for my loss.
I'd not care that Heathcliff gained his ends, and triumphed in robbing me
of my last blessing!  But should Linton be unworthy--only a feeble tool
to his father--I cannot abandon her to him!  And, hard though it be to
crush her buoyant spirit, I must persevere in making her sad while I
live, and leaving her solitary when I die.  Darling!  I'd rather resign
her to God, and lay her in the earth before me.'

'Resign her to God as it is, sir,' I answered, 'and if we should lose
you--which may He forbid--under His providence, I'll stand her friend and
counsellor to the last.  Miss Catherine is a good girl: I don't fear that
she will go wilfully wrong; and people who do their duty are always
finally rewarded.'

Spring advanced; yet my master gathered no real strength, though he
resumed his walks in the grounds with his daughter.  To her inexperienced
notions, this itself was a sign of convalescence; and then his cheek was
often flushed, and his eyes were bright; she felt sure of his recovering.
On her seventeenth birthday, he did not visit the churchyard: it was
raining, and I observed--'You'll surely not go out to-night, sir?'

He answered,--'No, I'll defer it this year a little longer.'  He wrote
again to Linton, expressing his great desire to see him; and, had the
invalid been presentable, I've no doubt his father would have permitted
him to come.  As it was, being instructed, he returned an answer,
intimating that Mr. Heathcliff objected to his calling at the Grange; but
his uncle's kind remembrance delighted him, and he hoped to meet him
sometimes in his rambles, and personally to petition that his cousin and
he might not remain long so utterly divided.

That part of his letter was simple, and probably his own.  Heathcliff
knew he could plead eloquently for Catherine's company, then.

'I do not ask,' he said, 'that she may visit here; but am I never to see
her, because my father forbids me to go to her home, and you forbid her
to come to mine?  Do, now and then, ride with her towards the Heights;
and let us exchange a few words, in your presence!  We have done nothing
to deserve this separation; and you are not angry with me: you have no
reason to dislike me, you allow, yourself.  Dear uncle! send me a kind
note to-morrow, and leave to join you anywhere you please, except at
Thrushcross Grange.  I believe an interview would convince you that my
father's character is not mine: he affirms I am more your nephew than his
son; and though I have faults which render me unworthy of Catherine, she
has excused them, and for her sake, you should also.  You inquire after
my health--it is better; but while I remain cut off from all hope, and
doomed to solitude, or the society of those who never did and never will
like me, how can I be cheerful and well?'

Edgar, though he felt for the boy, could not consent to grant his
request; because he could not accompany Catherine.  He said, in summer,
perhaps, they might meet: meantime, he wished him to continue writing at
intervals, and engaged to give him what advice and comfort he was able by
letter; being well aware of his hard position in his family.  Linton
complied; and had he been unrestrained, would probably have spoiled all
by filling his epistles with complaints and lamentations: but his father
kept a sharp watch over him; and, of course, insisted on every line that
my master sent being shown; so, instead of penning his peculiar personal
sufferings and distresses, the themes constantly uppermost in his
thoughts, he harped on the cruel obligation of being held asunder from
his friend and love; and gently intimated that Mr. Linton must allow an
interview soon, or he should fear he was purposely deceiving him with
empty promises.

Cathy was a powerful ally at home; and between them they at length
persuaded my master to acquiesce in their having a ride or a walk
together about once a week, under my guardianship, and on the moors
nearest the Grange: for June found him still declining.  Though he had
set aside yearly a portion of his income for my young lady's fortune, he
had a natural desire that she might retain--or at least return in a short
time to--the house of her ancestors; and he considered her only prospect
of doing that was by a union with his heir; he had no idea that the
latter was failing almost as fast as himself; nor had any one, I believe:
no doctor visited the Heights, and no one saw Master Heathcliff to make
report of his condition among us.  I, for my part, began to fancy my
forebodings were false, and that he must be actually rallying, when he
mentioned riding and walking on the moors, and seemed so earnest in
pursuing his object.  I could not picture a father treating a dying child
as tyrannically and wickedly as I afterwards learned Heathcliff had
treated him, to compel this apparent eagerness: his efforts redoubling
the more imminently his avaricious and unfeeling plans were threatened
with defeat by death.

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

completion: Chapter 25


prompt:
Chapter: Summer was already past its prime, when Edgar reluctantly yielded his
assent to their entreaties, and Catherine and I set out on our first ride
to join her cousin.  It was a close, sultry day: devoid of sunshine, but
with a sky too dappled and hazy to threaten rain: and our place of
meeting had been fixed at the guide-stone, by the cross-roads.  On
arriving there, however, a little herd-boy, despatched as a messenger,
told us that,--'Maister Linton wer just o' this side th' Heights: and
he'd be mitch obleeged to us to gang on a bit further.'

'Then Master Linton has forgot the first injunction of his uncle,' I
observed: 'he bid us keep on the Grange land, and here we are off at
once.'

'Well, we'll turn our horses' heads round when we reach him,' answered my
companion; 'our excursion shall lie towards home.'

But when we reached him, and that was scarcely a quarter of a mile from
his own door, we found he had no horse; and we were forced to dismount,
and leave ours to graze.  He lay on the heath, awaiting our approach, and
did not rise till we came within a few yards.  Then he walked so feebly,
and looked so pale, that I immediately exclaimed,--'Why, Master
Heathcliff, you are not fit for enjoying a ramble this morning.  How ill
you do look!'

Catherine surveyed him with grief and astonishment: she changed the
ejaculation of joy on her lips to one of alarm; and the congratulation on
their long-postponed meeting to an anxious inquiry, whether he were worse
than usual?

'No--better--better!' he panted, trembling, and retaining her hand as if
he needed its support, while his large blue eyes wandered timidly over
her; the hollowness round them transforming to haggard wildness the
languid expression they once possessed.

'But you have been worse,' persisted his cousin; 'worse than when I saw
you last; you are thinner, and--'

'I'm tired,' he interrupted, hurriedly.  'It is too hot for walking, let
us rest here.  And, in the morning, I often feel sick--papa says I grow
so fast.'

Badly satisfied, Cathy sat down, and he reclined beside her.

'This is something like your paradise,' said she, making an effort at
cheerfulness.  'You recollect the two days we agreed to spend in the
place and way each thought pleasantest?  This is nearly yours, only there
are clouds; but then they are so soft and mellow: it is nicer than
sunshine.  Next week, if you can, we'll ride down to the Grange Park, and
try mine.'

Linton did not appear to remember what she talked of and he had evidently
great difficulty in sustaining any kind of conversation.  His lack of
interest in the subjects she started, and his equal incapacity to
contribute to her entertainment, were so obvious that she could not
conceal her disappointment.  An indefinite alteration had come over his
whole person and manner.  The pettishness that might be caressed into
fondness, had yielded to a listless apathy; there was less of the peevish
temper of a child which frets and teases on purpose to be soothed, and
more of the self-absorbed moroseness of a confirmed invalid, repelling
consolation, and ready to regard the good-humoured mirth of others as an
insult.  Catherine perceived, as well as I did, that he held it rather a
punishment, than a gratification, to endure our company; and she made no
scruple of proposing, presently, to depart.  That proposal, unexpectedly,
roused Linton from his lethargy, and threw him into a strange state of
agitation.  He glanced fearfully towards the Heights, begging she would
remain another half-hour, at least.

'But I think,' said Cathy, 'you'd be more comfortable at home than
sitting here; and I cannot amuse you to-day, I see, by my tales, and
songs, and chatter: you have grown wiser than I, in these six months; you
have little taste for my diversions now: or else, if I could amuse you,
I'd willingly stay.'

'Stay to rest yourself,' he replied.  'And, Catherine, don't think or say
that I'm _very_ unwell: it is the heavy weather and heat that make me
dull; and I walked about, before you came, a great deal for me.  Tell
uncle I'm in tolerable health, will you?'

'I'll tell him that _you_ say so, Linton.  I couldn't affirm that you
are,' observed my young lady, wondering at his pertinacious assertion of
what was evidently an untruth.

'And be here again next Thursday,' continued he, shunning her puzzled
gaze.  'And give him my thanks for permitting you to come--my best
thanks, Catherine.  And--and, if you _did_ meet my father, and he asked
you about me, don't lead him to suppose that I've been extremely silent
and stupid: don't look sad and downcast, as you are doing--he'll be
angry.'

'I care nothing for his anger,' exclaimed Cathy, imagining she would be
its object.

'But I do,' said her cousin, shuddering.  '_Don't_ provoke him against
me, Catherine, for he is very hard.'

'Is he severe to you, Master Heathcliff?' I inquired.  'Has he grown
weary of indulgence, and passed from passive to active hatred?'

Linton looked at me, but did not answer; and, after keeping her seat by
his side another ten minutes, during which his head fell drowsily on his
breast, and he uttered nothing except suppressed moans of exhaustion or
pain, Cathy began to seek solace in looking for bilberries, and sharing
the produce of her researches with me: she did not offer them to him, for
she saw further notice would only weary and annoy.

'Is it half-an-hour now, Ellen?' she whispered in my ear, at last.  'I
can't tell why we should stay.  He's asleep, and papa will be wanting us
back.'

'Well, we must not leave him asleep,' I answered; 'wait till he wakes,
and be patient.  You were mighty eager to set off, but your longing to
see poor Linton has soon evaporated!'

'Why did _he_ wish to see me?' returned Catherine.  'In his crossest
humours, formerly, I liked him better than I do in his present curious
mood.  It's just as if it were a task he was compelled to perform--this
interview--for fear his father should scold him.  But I'm hardly going to
come to give Mr. Heathcliff pleasure; whatever reason he may have for
ordering Linton to undergo this penance.  And, though I'm glad he's
better in health, I'm sorry he's so much less pleasant, and so much less
affectionate to me.'

'You think _he is_ better in health, then?' I said.

'Yes,' she answered; 'because he always made such a great deal of his
sufferings, you know.  He is not tolerably well, as he told me to tell
papa; but he's better, very likely.'

'There you differ with me, Miss Cathy,' I remarked; 'I should conjecture
him to be far worse.'

Linton here started from his slumber in bewildered terror, and asked if
any one had called his name.

'No,' said Catherine; 'unless in dreams.  I cannot conceive how you
manage to doze out of doors, in the morning.'

'I thought I heard my father,' he gasped, glancing up to the frowning nab
above us.  'You are sure nobody spoke?'

'Quite sure,' replied his cousin.  'Only Ellen and I were disputing
concerning your health.  Are you truly stronger, Linton, than when we
separated in winter?  If you be, I'm certain one thing is not
stronger--your regard for me: speak,--are you?'

The tears gushed from Linton's eyes as he answered, 'Yes, yes, I am!'
And, still under the spell of the imaginary voice, his gaze wandered up
and down to detect its owner.

Cathy rose.  'For to-day we must part,' she said.  'And I won't conceal
that I have been sadly disappointed with our meeting; though I'll mention
it to nobody but you: not that I stand in awe of Mr. Heathcliff.'

'Hush,' murmured Linton; 'for God's sake, hush!  He's coming.'  And he
clung to Catherine's arm, striving to detain her; but at that
announcement she hastily disengaged herself, and whistled to Minny, who
obeyed her like a dog.

'I'll be here next Thursday,' she cried, springing to the saddle.
'Good-bye. Quick, Ellen!'

And so we left him, scarcely conscious of our departure, so absorbed was
he in anticipating his father's approach.

Before we reached home, Catherine's displeasure softened into a perplexed
sensation of pity and regret, largely blended with vague, uneasy doubts
about Linton's actual circumstances, physical and social: in which I
partook, though I counselled her not to say much; for a second journey
would make us better judges.  My master requested an account of our
ongoings.  His nephew's offering of thanks was duly delivered, Miss Cathy
gently touching on the rest: I also threw little light on his inquiries,
for I hardly knew what to hide and what to reveal.

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

completion: When Ellen and Cathy rode to meet Linton, they had to go quite close to Wuthering Heights to find him. He was evidently very ill, though he claimed to be better: "his large blue eyes wandered timidly over her; the hollowness round them, transforming to haggard wildness, the languid expression they once possessed". Linton had a hard time making conversation with Cathy, and was clearly not enjoying their talk, so she decided to leave. Surprisingly, Linton then looked anxiously towards Wuthering Heights and begged her to stay longer, and to tell her father he was in "tolerable health". Cathy half-heartedly agreed, and Linton soon fell into some kind of slumber. He woke suddenly and seemed to be terrified that his father might come. Eventually, Cathy and Ellen returned home, perplexed by his strange behavior


prompt:
Chapter: Seven days glided away, every one marking its course by the henceforth
rapid alteration of Edgar Linton's state.  The havoc that months had
previously wrought was now emulated by the inroads of hours.  Catherine
we would fain have deluded yet; but her own quick spirit refused to
delude her: it divined in secret, and brooded on the dreadful
probability, gradually ripening into certainty.  She had not the heart to
mention her ride, when Thursday came round; I mentioned it for her, and
obtained permission to order her out of doors: for the library, where her
father stopped a short time daily--the brief period he could bear to sit
up--and his chamber, had become her whole world.  She grudged each moment
that did not find her bending over his pillow, or seated by his side.  Her
countenance grew wan with watching and sorrow, and my master gladly
dismissed her to what he flattered himself would be a happy change of
scene and society; drawing comfort from the hope that she would not now
be left entirely alone after his death.

He had a fixed idea, I guessed by several observations he let fall, that,
as his nephew resembled him in person, he would resemble him in mind; for
Linton's letters bore few or no indications of his defective character.
And I, through pardonable weakness, refrained from correcting the error;
asking myself what good there would be in disturbing his last moments
with information that he had neither power nor opportunity to turn to
account.

We deferred our excursion till the afternoon; a golden afternoon of
August: every breath from the hills so full of life, that it seemed
whoever respired it, though dying, might revive.  Catherine's face was
just like the landscape--shadows and sunshine flitting over it in rapid
succession; but the shadows rested longer, and the sunshine was more
transient; and her poor little heart reproached itself for even that
passing forgetfulness of its cares.

We discerned Linton watching at the same spot he had selected before.  My
young mistress alighted, and told me that, as she was resolved to stay a
very little while, I had better hold the pony and remain on horseback;
but I dissented: I wouldn't risk losing sight of the charge committed to
me a minute; so we climbed the slope of heath together.  Master
Heathcliff received us with greater animation on this occasion: not the
animation of high spirits though, nor yet of joy; it looked more like
fear.

'It is late!' he said, speaking short and with difficulty.  'Is not your
father very ill?  I thought you wouldn't come.'

'_Why_ won't you be candid?' cried Catherine, swallowing her greeting.
'Why cannot you say at once you don't want me?  It is strange, Linton,
that for the second time you have brought me here on purpose, apparently
to distress us both, and for no reason besides!'

Linton shivered, and glanced at her, half supplicating, half ashamed; but
his cousin's patience was not sufficient to endure this enigmatical
behaviour.

'My father _is_ very ill,' she said; 'and why am I called from his
bedside?  Why didn't you send to absolve me from my promise, when you
wished I wouldn't keep it?  Come!  I desire an explanation: playing and
trifling are completely banished out of my mind; and I can't dance
attendance on your affectations now!'

'My affectations!' he murmured; 'what are they?  For heaven's sake,
Catherine, don't look so angry!  Despise me as much as you please; I am a
worthless, cowardly wretch: I can't be scorned enough; but I'm too mean
for your anger.  Hate my father, and spare me for contempt.'

'Nonsense!' cried Catherine in a passion.  'Foolish, silly boy!  And
there! he trembles: as if I were really going to touch him!  You needn't
bespeak contempt, Linton: anybody will have it spontaneously at your
service.  Get off!  I shall return home: it is folly dragging you from
the hearth-stone, and pretending--what do we pretend?  Let go my frock!
If I pitied you for crying and looking so very frightened, you should
spurn such pity.  Ellen, tell him how disgraceful this conduct is.  Rise,
and don't degrade yourself into an abject reptile--_don't_!'

With streaming face and an expression of agony, Linton had thrown his
nerveless frame along the ground: he seemed convulsed with exquisite
terror.

'Oh!' he sobbed, 'I cannot bear it!  Catherine, Catherine, I'm a traitor,
too, and I dare not tell you!  But leave me, and I shall be killed!
_Dear_ Catherine, my life is in your hands: and you have said you loved
me, and if you did, it wouldn't harm you.  You'll not go, then? kind,
sweet, good Catherine!  And perhaps you _will_ consent--and he'll let me
die with you!'

My young lady, on witnessing his intense anguish, stooped to raise him.
The old feeling of indulgent tenderness overcame her vexation, and she
grew thoroughly moved and alarmed.

'Consent to what?' she asked.  'To stay! tell me the meaning of this
strange talk, and I will.  You contradict your own words, and distract
me!  Be calm and frank, and confess at once all that weighs on your
heart.  You wouldn't injure me, Linton, would you?  You wouldn't let any
enemy hurt me, if you could prevent it?  I'll believe you are a coward,
for yourself, but not a cowardly betrayer of your best friend.'

'But my father threatened me,' gasped the boy, clasping his attenuated
fingers, 'and I dread him--I dread him!  I _dare_ not tell!'

'Oh, well!' said Catherine, with scornful compassion, 'keep your secret:
_I'm_ no coward.  Save yourself: I'm not afraid!'

Her magnanimity provoked his tears: he wept wildly, kissing her
supporting hands, and yet could not summon courage to speak out.  I was
cogitating what the mystery might be, and determined Catherine should
never suffer to benefit him or any one else, by my good will; when,
hearing a rustle among the ling, I looked up and saw Mr. Heathcliff
almost close upon us, descending the Heights.  He didn't cast a glance
towards my companions, though they were sufficiently near for Linton's
sobs to be audible; but hailing me in the almost hearty tone he assumed
to none besides, and the sincerity of which I couldn't avoid doubting, he
said--

'It is something to see you so near to my house, Nelly.  How are you at
the Grange?  Let us hear.  The rumour goes,' he added, in a lower tone,
'that Edgar Linton is on his death-bed: perhaps they exaggerate his
illness?'

'No; my master is dying,' I replied: 'it is true enough.  A sad thing it
will be for us all, but a blessing for him!'

'How long will he last, do you think?' he asked.

'I don't know,' I said.

'Because,' he continued, looking at the two young people, who were fixed
under his eye--Linton appeared as if he could not venture to stir or
raise his head, and Catherine could not move, on his account--'because
that lad yonder seems determined to beat me; and I'd thank his uncle to
be quick, and go before him!  Hallo! has the whelp been playing that game
long?  I _did_ give him some lessons about snivelling.  Is he pretty
lively with Miss Linton generally?'

'Lively? no--he has shown the greatest distress,' I answered.  'To see
him, I should say, that instead of rambling with his sweetheart on the
hills, he ought to be in bed, under the hands of a doctor.'

'He shall be, in a day or two,' muttered Heathcliff.  'But first--get up,
Linton!  Get up!' he shouted.  'Don't grovel on the ground there up, this
moment!'

Linton had sunk prostrate again in another paroxysm of helpless fear,
caused by his father's glance towards him, I suppose: there was nothing
else to produce such humiliation.  He made several efforts to obey, but
his little strength was annihilated for the time, and he fell back again
with a moan.  Mr. Heathcliff advanced, and lifted him to lean against a
ridge of turf.

'Now,' said he, with curbed ferocity, 'I'm getting angry and if you don't
command that paltry spirit of yours--_damn_ you! get up directly!'

'I will, father,' he panted.  'Only, let me alone, or I shall faint.  I've
done as you wished, I'm sure.  Catherine will tell you that I--that
I--have been cheerful.  Ah! keep by me, Catherine; give me your hand.'

'Take mine,' said his father; 'stand on your feet.  There now--she'll
lend you her arm: that's right, look at her.  You would imagine I was the
devil himself, Miss Linton, to excite such horror.  Be so kind as to walk
home with him, will you?  He shudders if I touch him.'

'Linton dear!' whispered Catherine, 'I can't go to Wuthering Heights:
papa has forbidden me.  He'll not harm you: why are you so afraid?'

'I can never re-enter that house,' he answered.  'I'm _not_ to re-enter
it without you!'

'Stop!' cried his father.  'We'll respect Catherine's filial scruples.
Nelly, take him in, and I'll follow your advice concerning the doctor,
without delay.'

'You'll do well,' replied I.  'But I must remain with my mistress: to
mind your son is not my business.'

'You are very stiff,' said Heathcliff, 'I know that: but you'll force me
to pinch the baby and make it scream before it moves your charity.  Come,
then, my hero.  Are you willing to return, escorted by me?'

He approached once more, and made as if he would seize the fragile being;
but, shrinking back, Linton clung to his cousin, and implored her to
accompany him, with a frantic importunity that admitted no denial.
However I disapproved, I couldn't hinder her: indeed, how could she have
refused him herself?  What was filling him with dread we had no means of
discerning; but there he was, powerless under its grip, and any addition
seemed capable of shocking him into idiotcy.  We reached the threshold;
Catherine walked in, and I stood waiting till she had conducted the
invalid to a chair, expecting her out immediately; when Mr. Heathcliff,
pushing me forward, exclaimed--'My house is not stricken with the plague,
Nelly; and I have a mind to be hospitable to-day: sit down, and allow me
to shut the door.'

He shut and locked it also.  I started.

'You shall have tea before you go home,' he added.  'I am by myself.
Hareton is gone with some cattle to the Lees, and Zillah and Joseph are
off on a journey of pleasure; and, though I'm used to being alone, I'd
rather have some interesting company, if I can get it.  Miss Linton, take
your seat by _him_.  I give you what I have: the present is hardly worth
accepting; but I have nothing else to offer.  It is Linton, I mean.  How
she does stare!  It's odd what a savage feeling I have to anything that
seems afraid of me!  Had I been born where laws are less strict and
tastes less dainty, I should treat myself to a slow vivisection of those
two, as an evening's amusement.'

He drew in his breath, struck the table, and swore to himself, 'By hell!
I hate them.'

'I am not afraid of you!' exclaimed Catherine, who could not hear the
latter part of his speech.  She stepped close up; her black eyes flashing
with passion and resolution.  'Give me that key: I will have it!' she
said.  'I wouldn't eat or drink here, if I were starving.'

Heathcliff had the key in his hand that remained on the table.  He looked
up, seized with a sort of surprise at her boldness; or, possibly,
reminded, by her voice and glance, of the person from whom she inherited
it.  She snatched at the instrument, and half succeeded in getting it out
of his loosened fingers: but her action recalled him to the present; he
recovered it speedily.

'Now, Catherine Linton,' he said, 'stand off, or I shall knock you down;
and, that will make Mrs. Dean mad.'

Regardless of this warning, she captured his closed hand and its contents
again.  'We _will_ go!' she repeated, exerting her utmost efforts to cause
the iron muscles to relax; and finding that her nails made no impression,
she applied her teeth pretty sharply.  Heathcliff glanced at me a glance
that kept me from interfering a moment.  Catherine was too intent on his
fingers to notice his face.  He opened them suddenly, and resigned the
object of dispute; but, ere she had well secured it, he seized her with
the liberated hand, and, pulling her on his knee, administered with the
other a shower of terrific slaps on both sides of the head, each
sufficient to have fulfilled his threat, had she been able to fall.

At this diabolical violence I rushed on him furiously. 'You villain!' I
began to cry, 'you villain!' A touch on the chest silenced me: I am
stout, and soon put out of breath; and, what with that and the rage, I
staggered dizzily back and felt ready to suffocate, or to burst a
blood-vessel. The scene was over in two minutes; Catherine, released,
put her two hands to her temples, and looked just as if she were not
sure whether her ears were off or on. She trembled like a reed, poor
thing, and leant against the table perfectly bewildered.

'I know how to chastise children, you see,' said the scoundrel, grimly,
as he stooped to repossess himself of the key, which had dropped to the
floor.  'Go to Linton now, as I told you; and cry at your ease!  I shall
be your father, to-morrow--all the father you'll have in a few days--and
you shall have plenty of that.  You can bear plenty; you're no weakling:
you shall have a daily taste, if I catch such a devil of a temper in your
eyes again!'

Cathy ran to me instead of Linton, and knelt down and put her burning
cheek on my lap, weeping aloud.  Her cousin had shrunk into a corner of
the settle, as quiet as a mouse, congratulating himself, I dare say, that
the correction had alighted on another than him.  Mr. Heathcliff,
perceiving us all confounded, rose, and expeditiously made the tea
himself.  The cups and saucers were laid ready.  He poured it out, and
handed me a cup.

'Wash away your spleen,' he said.  'And help your own naughty pet and
mine.  It is not poisoned, though I prepared it.  I'm going out to seek
your horses.'

Our first thought, on his departure, was to force an exit somewhere.  We
tried the kitchen door, but that was fastened outside: we looked at the
windows--they were too narrow for even Cathy's little figure.

'Master Linton,' I cried, seeing we were regularly imprisoned, 'you know
what your diabolical father is after, and you shall tell us, or I'll box
your ears, as he has done your cousin's.'

'Yes, Linton, you must tell,' said Catherine.  'It was for your sake I
came; and it will be wickedly ungrateful if you refuse.'

'Give me some tea, I'm thirsty, and then I'll tell you,' he answered.
'Mrs. Dean, go away.  I don't like you standing over me.  Now, Catherine,
you are letting your tears fall into my cup.  I won't drink that.  Give
me another.'  Catherine pushed another to him, and wiped her face.  I
felt disgusted at the little wretch's composure, since he was no longer
in terror for himself.  The anguish he had exhibited on the moor subsided
as soon as ever he entered Wuthering Heights; so I guessed he had been
menaced with an awful visitation of wrath if he failed in decoying us
there; and, that accomplished, he had no further immediate fears.

'Papa wants us to be married,' he continued, after sipping some of the
liquid.  'And he knows your papa wouldn't let us marry now; and he's
afraid of my dying if we wait; so we are to be married in the morning,
and you are to stay here all night; and, if you do as he wishes, you
shall return home next day, and take me with you.'

'Take you with her, pitiful changeling!' I exclaimed.  '_You_ marry?  Why,
the man is mad! or he thinks us fools, every one.  And do you imagine
that beautiful young lady, that healthy, hearty girl, will tie herself to
a little perishing monkey like you?  Are you cherishing the notion that
anybody, let alone Miss Catherine Linton, would have you for a husband?
You want whipping for bringing us in here at all, with your dastardly
puling tricks: and--don't look so silly, now!  I've a very good mind to
shake you severely, for your contemptible treachery, and your imbecile
conceit.'

I did give him a slight shaking; but it brought on the cough, and he took
to his ordinary resource of moaning and weeping, and Catherine rebuked
me.

'Stay all night?  No,' she said, looking slowly round.  'Ellen, I'll burn
that door down but I'll get out.'

And she would have commenced the execution of her threat directly, but
Linton was up in alarm for his dear self again.  He clasped her in his
two feeble arms sobbing:--'Won't you have me, and save me? not let me
come to the Grange?  Oh, darling Catherine! you mustn't go and leave,
after all.  You _must_ obey my father--you _must_!'

'I must obey my own,' she replied, 'and relieve him from this cruel
suspense.  The whole night!  What would he think?  He'll be distressed
already.  I'll either break or burn a way out of the house.  Be quiet!
You're in no danger; but if you hinder me--Linton, I love papa better
than you!'  The mortal terror he felt of Mr. Heathcliff's anger restored
to the boy his coward's eloquence.  Catherine was near distraught: still,
she persisted that she must go home, and tried entreaty in her turn,
persuading him to subdue his selfish agony.  While they were thus
occupied, our jailor re-entered.

'Your beasts have trotted off,' he said, 'and--now Linton! snivelling
again?  What has she been doing to you?  Come, come--have done, and get
to bed.  In a month or two, my lad, you'll be able to pay her back her
present tyrannies with a vigorous hand.  You're pining for pure love, are
you not? nothing else in the world: and she shall have you!  There, to
bed!  Zillah won't be here to-night; you must undress yourself.  Hush!
hold your noise!  Once in your own room, I'll not come near you: you
needn't fear.  By chance, you've managed tolerably.  I'll look to the
rest.'

He spoke these words, holding the door open for his son to pass, and the
latter achieved his exit exactly as a spaniel might which suspected the
person who attended on it of designing a spiteful squeeze.  The lock was
re-secured.  Heathcliff approached the fire, where my mistress and I
stood silent.  Catherine looked up, and instinctively raised her hand to
her cheek: his neighbourhood revived a painful sensation.  Anybody else
would have been incapable of regarding the childish act with sternness,
but he scowled on her and muttered--'Oh! you are not afraid of me?  Your
courage is well disguised: you seem damnably afraid!'

'I _am_ afraid now,' she replied, 'because, if I stay, papa will be
miserable: and how can I endure making him miserable--when he--when
he--Mr. Heathcliff, let _me_ go home!  I promise to marry Linton: papa
would like me to: and I love him.  Why should you wish to force me to do
what I'll willingly do of myself?'

'Let him dare to force you,' I cried.  'There's law in the land, thank
God! there is; though we be in an out-of-the-way place.  I'd inform if he
were my own son: and it's felony without benefit of clergy!'

'Silence!' said the ruffian.  'To the devil with your clamour!  I don't
want _you_ to speak.  Miss Linton, I shall enjoy myself remarkably in
thinking your father will be miserable: I shall not sleep for
satisfaction.  You could have hit on no surer way of fixing your
residence under my roof for the next twenty-four hours than informing me
that such an event would follow.  As to your promise to marry Linton,
I'll take care you shall keep it; for you shall not quit this place till
it is fulfilled.'

'Send Ellen, then, to let papa know I'm safe!' exclaimed Catherine,
weeping bitterly.  'Or marry me now.  Poor papa!  Ellen, he'll think
we're lost.  What shall we do?'

'Not he!  He'll think you are tired of waiting on him, and run off for a
little amusement,' answered Heathcliff.  'You cannot deny that you
entered my house of your own accord, in contempt of his injunctions to
the contrary.  And it is quite natural that you should desire amusement
at your age; and that you would weary of nursing a sick man, and that man
_only_ your father.  Catherine, his happiest days were over when your
days began.  He cursed you, I dare say, for coming into the world (I did,
at least); and it would just do if he cursed you as _he_ went out of it.
I'd join him.  I don't love you!  How should I?  Weep away.  As far as I
can see, it will be your chief diversion hereafter; unless Linton make
amends for other losses: and your provident parent appears to fancy he
may.  His letters of advice and consolation entertained me vastly.  In
his last he recommended my jewel to be careful of his; and kind to her
when he got her.  Careful and kind--that's paternal.  But Linton requires
his whole stock of care and kindness for himself.  Linton can play the
little tyrant well.  He'll undertake to torture any number of cats, if
their teeth be drawn and their claws pared.  You'll be able to tell his
uncle fine tales of his _kindness_, when you get home again, I assure
you.'

'You're right there!' I said; 'explain your son's character.  Show his
resemblance to yourself: and then, I hope, Miss Cathy will think twice
before she takes the cockatrice!'

'I don't much mind speaking of his amiable qualities now,' he answered;
'because she must either accept him or remain a prisoner, and you along
with her, till your master dies.  I can detain you both, quite concealed,
here.  If you doubt, encourage her to retract her word, and you'll have
an opportunity of judging!'

'I'll not retract my word,' said Catherine.  'I'll marry him within this
hour, if I may go to Thrushcross Grange afterwards.  Mr. Heathcliff,
you're a cruel man, but you're not a fiend; and you won't, from _mere_
malice, destroy irrevocably all my happiness.  If papa thought I had left
him on purpose, and if he died before I returned, could I bear to live?
I've given over crying: but I'm going to kneel here, at your knee; and
I'll not get up, and I'll not take my eyes from your face till you look
back at me!  No, don't turn away! _do look_! you'll see nothing to
provoke you.  I don't hate you.  I'm not angry that you struck me.  Have
you never loved _anybody_ in all your life, uncle? _never_?  Ah! you must
look once.  I'm so wretched, you can't help being sorry and pitying me.'

'Keep your eft's fingers off; and move, or I'll kick you!' cried
Heathcliff, brutally repulsing her.  'I'd rather be hugged by a snake.
How the devil can you dream of fawning on me?  I _detest_ you!'

He shrugged his shoulders: shook himself, indeed, as if his flesh crept
with aversion; and thrust back his chair; while I got up, and opened my
mouth, to commence a downright torrent of abuse.  But I was rendered dumb
in the middle of the first sentence, by a threat that I should be shown
into a room by myself the very next syllable I uttered.  It was growing
dark--we heard a sound of voices at the garden-gate.  Our host hurried
out instantly: _he_ had his wits about him; _we_ had not.  There was a
talk of two or three minutes, and he returned alone.

'I thought it had been your cousin Hareton,' I observed to Catherine.  'I
wish he would arrive!  Who knows but he might take our part?'

'It was three servants sent to seek you from the Grange,' said
Heathcliff, overhearing me.  'You should have opened a lattice and called
out: but I could swear that chit is glad you didn't.  She's glad to be
obliged to stay, I'm certain.'

At learning the chance we had missed, we both gave vent to our grief
without control; and he allowed us to wail on till nine o'clock.  Then he
bid us go upstairs, through the kitchen, to Zillah's chamber; and I
whispered my companion to obey: perhaps we might contrive to get through
the window there, or into a garret, and out by its skylight.  The window,
however, was narrow, like those below, and the garret trap was safe from
our attempts; for we were fastened in as before.  We neither of us lay
down: Catherine took her station by the lattice, and watched anxiously
for morning; a deep sigh being the only answer I could obtain to my
frequent entreaties that she would try to rest.  I seated myself in a
chair, and rocked to and fro, passing harsh judgment on my many
derelictions of duty; from which, it struck me then, all the misfortunes
of my employers sprang.  It was not the case, in reality, I am aware; but
it was, in my imagination, that dismal night; and I thought Heathcliff
himself less guilty than I.

At seven o'clock he came, and inquired if Miss Linton had risen.  She ran
to the door immediately, and answered, 'Yes.'  'Here, then,' he said,
opening it, and pulling her out.  I rose to follow, but he turned the
lock again.  I demanded my release.

'Be patient,' he replied; 'I'll send up your breakfast in a while.'

I thumped on the panels, and rattled the latch angrily and Catherine
asked why I was still shut up?  He answered, I must try to endure it
another hour, and they went away.  I endured it two or three hours; at
length, I heard a footstep: not Heathcliff's.

'I've brought you something to eat,' said a voice; 'oppen t' door!'

Complying eagerly, I beheld Hareton, laden with food enough to last me
all day.

'Tak' it,' he added, thrusting the tray into my hand.

'Stay one minute,' I began.

'Nay,' cried he, and retired, regardless of any prayers I could pour
forth to detain him.

And there I remained enclosed the whole day, and the whole of the next
night; and another, and another.  Five nights and four days I remained,
altogether, seeing nobody but Hareton once every morning; and he was a
model of a jailor: surly, and dumb, and deaf to every attempt at moving
his sense of justice or compassion.

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

completion: A week later, Ellen and Cathy were to visit Linton again. Edgar was much sicker, and Cathy didn't want to leave him, but he encouraged her relationship with Linton, hoping to ensure his daughter's welfare thereby. Linton "received us with greater animation on this occasion; not the animation of high spirits though, nor yet of joy; it looked more like fear". Cathy was angry that she had had to leave her father, and she was disgusted by Linton's abject admissions of terror of his father. Heathcliff came upon them, and asked Ellen how much longer Edgar had to live: he was worried that Linton would die before Edgar, thus preventing the marriage. Heathcliff then ordered Linton to get up and bring Cathy into the house, which he did, against Cathy's will: "Linton. implored her to accompany him, with a frantic importunity that admitted no denial". Heathcliff pushed Ellen into the house as well and locked the door behind them. When Cathy protested that she must get home to her father, Heathcliff slapped her brutally and made it clear that she wouldn't leave Wuthering Heights until she married Linton. Linton showed his true character: as Heathcliff said, "He'll undertake to torture any number of cats if their teeth be drawn, and their claws pared". Cathy and Heathcliff declared their mutual hatred. Ellen remained imprisoned separately from Cathy for five days with Hareton as her jailer: he gave her food but refused to speak to her beyond what was necessary. She did not know what was happening to Cathy


prompt:
Chapter: On the fifth morning, or rather afternoon, a different step
approached--lighter and shorter; and, this time, the person entered the
room.  It was Zillah; donned in her scarlet shawl, with a black silk
bonnet on her head, and a willow-basket swung to her arm.

'Eh, dear!  Mrs. Dean!' she exclaimed.  'Well! there is a talk about you
at Gimmerton.  I never thought but you were sunk in the Blackhorse marsh,
and missy with you, till master told me you'd been found, and he'd lodged
you here!  What! and you must have got on an island, sure?  And how long
were you in the hole?  Did master save you, Mrs. Dean?  But you're not so
thin--you've not been so poorly, have you?'

'Your master is a true scoundrel!' I replied.  'But he shall answer for
it.  He needn't have raised that tale: it shall all be laid bare!'

'What do you mean?' asked Zillah.  'It's not his tale: they tell that in
the village--about your being lost in the marsh; and I calls to Earnshaw,
when I come in--"Eh, they's queer things, Mr. Hareton, happened since I
went off.  It's a sad pity of that likely young lass, and cant Nelly
Dean."  He stared.  I thought he had not heard aught, so I told him the
rumour.  The master listened, and he just smiled to himself, and said,
"If they have been in the marsh, they are out now, Zillah.  Nelly Dean is
lodged, at this minute, in your room.  You can tell her to flit, when you
go up; here is the key.  The bog-water got into her head, and she would
have run home quite flighty; but I fixed her till she came round to her
senses.  You can bid her go to the Grange at once, if she be able, and
carry a message from me, that her young lady will follow in time to
attend the squire's funeral."'

'Mr. Edgar is not dead?' I gasped.  'Oh! Zillah, Zillah!'

'No, no; sit you down, my good mistress,' she replied; 'you're right
sickly yet.  He's not dead; Doctor Kenneth thinks he may last another
day.  I met him on the road and asked.'

Instead of sitting down, I snatched my outdoor things, and hastened
below, for the way was free.  On entering the house, I looked about for
some one to give information of Catherine.  The place was filled with
sunshine, and the door stood wide open; but nobody seemed at hand.  As I
hesitated whether to go off at once, or return and seek my mistress, a
slight cough drew my attention to the hearth.  Linton lay on the settle,
sole tenant, sucking a stick of sugar-candy, and pursuing my movements
with apathetic eyes.  'Where is Miss Catherine?' I demanded sternly,
supposing I could frighten him into giving intelligence, by catching him
thus, alone.  He sucked on like an innocent.

'Is she gone?' I said.

'No,' he replied; 'she's upstairs: she's not to go; we won't let her.'

'You won't let her, little idiot!' I exclaimed.  'Direct me to her room
immediately, or I'll make you sing out sharply.'

'Papa would make you sing out, if you attempted to get there,' he
answered.  'He says I'm not to be soft with Catherine: she's my wife, and
it's shameful that she should wish to leave me.  He says she hates me and
wants me to die, that she may have my money; but she shan't have it: and
she shan't go home!  She never shall!--she may cry, and be sick as much
as she pleases!'

He resumed his former occupation, closing his lids, as if he meant to
drop asleep.

'Master Heathcliff,' I resumed, 'have you forgotten all Catherine's
kindness to you last winter, when you affirmed you loved her, and when
she brought you books and sung you songs, and came many a time through
wind and snow to see you?  She wept to miss one evening, because you
would be disappointed; and you felt then that she was a hundred times too
good to you: and now you believe the lies your father tells, though you
know he detests you both.  And you join him against her.  That's fine
gratitude, is it not?'

The corner of Linton's mouth fell, and he took the sugar-candy from his
lips.

'Did she come to Wuthering Heights because she hated you?' I continued.
'Think for yourself!  As to your money, she does not even know that you
will have any.  And you say she's sick; and yet you leave her alone, up
there in a strange house!  You who have felt what it is to be so
neglected!  You could pity your own sufferings; and she pitied them, too;
but you won't pity hers!  I shed tears, Master Heathcliff, you see--an
elderly woman, and a servant merely--and you, after pretending such
affection, and having reason to worship her almost, store every tear you
have for yourself, and lie there quite at ease.  Ah! you're a heartless,
selfish boy!'

'I can't stay with her,' he answered crossly.  'I'll not stay by myself.
She cries so I can't bear it.  And she won't give over, though I say I'll
call my father.  I did call him once, and he threatened to strangle her
if she was not quiet; but she began again the instant he left the room,
moaning and grieving all night long, though I screamed for vexation that
I couldn't sleep.'

'Is Mr. Heathcliff out?' I inquired, perceiving that the wretched
creature had no power to sympathize with his cousin's mental tortures.

'He's in the court,' he replied, 'talking to Doctor Kenneth; who says
uncle is dying, truly, at last.  I'm glad, for I shall be master of the
Grange after him.  Catherine always spoke of it as her house.  It isn't
hers!  It's mine: papa says everything she has is mine.  All her nice
books are mine; she offered to give me them, and her pretty birds, and
her pony Minny, if I would get the key of our room, and let her out; but
I told her she had nothing to give, they were all, all mine.  And then
she cried, and took a little picture from her neck, and said I should
have that; two pictures in a gold case, on one side her mother, and on
the other uncle, when they were young.  That was yesterday--I said they
were mine, too; and tried to get them from her.  The spiteful thing
wouldn't let me: she pushed me off, and hurt me.  I shrieked out--that
frightens her--she heard papa coming, and she broke the hinges and
divided the case, and gave me her mother's portrait; the other she
attempted to hide: but papa asked what was the matter, and I explained
it.  He took the one I had away, and ordered her to resign hers to me;
she refused, and he--he struck her down, and wrenched it off the chain,
and crushed it with his foot.'

'And were you pleased to see her struck?' I asked: having my designs in
encouraging his talk.

'I winked,' he answered: 'I wink to see my father strike a dog or a
horse, he does it so hard.  Yet I was glad at first--she deserved
punishing for pushing me: but when papa was gone, she made me come to the
window and showed me her cheek cut on the inside, against her teeth, and
her mouth filling with blood; and then she gathered up the bits of the
picture, and went and sat down with her face to the wall, and she has
never spoken to me since: and I sometimes think she can't speak for pain.
I don't like to think so; but she's a naughty thing for crying
continually; and she looks so pale and wild, I'm afraid of her.'

'And you can get the key if you choose?' I said.

'Yes, when I am up-stairs,' he answered; 'but I can't walk up-stairs
now.'

'In what apartment is it?' I asked.

'Oh,' he cried, 'I shan't tell _you_ where it is.  It is our secret.
Nobody, neither Hareton nor Zillah, is to know.  There! you've tired
me--go away, go away!'  And he turned his face on to his arm, and shut
his eyes again.

I considered it best to depart without seeing Mr. Heathcliff, and bring a
rescue for my young lady from the Grange.  On reaching it, the
astonishment of my fellow-servants to see me, and their joy also, was
intense; and when they heard that their little mistress was safe, two or
three were about to hurry up and shout the news at Mr. Edgar's door: but
I bespoke the announcement of it myself.  How changed I found him, even
in those few days!  He lay an image of sadness and resignation awaiting
his death.  Very young he looked: though his actual age was thirty-nine,
one would have called him ten years younger, at least.  He thought of
Catherine; for he murmured her name.  I touched his hand, and spoke.

'Catherine is coming, dear master!' I whispered; 'she is alive and well;
and will be here, I hope, to-night.'

I trembled at the first effects of this intelligence: he half rose up,
looked eagerly round the apartment, and then sank back in a swoon.  As
soon as he recovered, I related our compulsory visit, and detention at
the Heights.  I said Heathcliff forced me to go in: which was not quite
true.  I uttered as little as possible against Linton; nor did I describe
all his father's brutal conduct--my intentions being to add no
bitterness, if I could help it, to his already over-flowing cup.

He divined that one of his enemy's purposes was to secure the personal
property, as well as the estate, to his son: or rather himself; yet why
he did not wait till his decease was a puzzle to my master, because
ignorant how nearly he and his nephew would quit the world together.
However, he felt that his will had better be altered: instead of leaving
Catherine's fortune at her own disposal, he determined to put it in the
hands of trustees for her use during life, and for her children, if she
had any, after her.  By that means, it could not fall to Mr. Heathcliff
should Linton die.

Having received his orders, I despatched a man to fetch the attorney, and
four more, provided with serviceable weapons, to demand my young lady of
her jailor.  Both parties were delayed very late.  The single servant
returned first.  He said Mr. Green, the lawyer, was out when he arrived
at his house, and he had to wait two hours for his re-entrance; and then
Mr. Green told him he had a little business in the village that must be
done; but he would be at Thrushcross Grange before morning.  The four men
came back unaccompanied also.  They brought word that Catherine was ill:
too ill to quit her room; and Heathcliff would not suffer them to see
her.  I scolded the stupid fellows well for listening to that tale, which
I would not carry to my master; resolving to take a whole bevy up to the
Heights, at day-light, and storm it literally, unless the prisoner were
quietly surrendered to us.  Her father _shall_ see her, I vowed, and
vowed again, if that devil be killed on his own doorstones in trying to
prevent it!

Happily, I was spared the journey and the trouble.  I had gone
down-stairs at three o'clock to fetch a jug of water; and was passing
through the hall with it in my hand, when a sharp knock at the front door
made me jump.  'Oh! it is Green,' I said, recollecting myself--'only
Green,' and I went on, intending to send somebody else to open it; but
the knock was repeated: not loud, and still importunately.  I put the jug
on the banister and hastened to admit him myself.  The harvest moon shone
clear outside.  It was not the attorney.  My own sweet little mistress
sprang on my neck sobbing, 'Ellen, Ellen!  Is papa alive?'

'Yes,' I cried: 'yes, my angel, he is, God be thanked, you are safe with
us again!'

She wanted to run, breathless as she was, up-stairs to Mr. Linton's room;
but I compelled her to sit down on a chair, and made her drink, and
washed her pale face, chafing it into a faint colour with my apron.  Then
I said I must go first, and tell of her arrival; imploring her to say,
she should be happy with young Heathcliff.  She stared, but soon
comprehending why I counselled her to utter the falsehood, she assured me
she would not complain.

I couldn't abide to be present at their meeting.  I stood outside the
chamber-door a quarter of an hour, and hardly ventured near the bed,
then.  All was composed, however: Catherine's despair was as silent as
her father's joy.  She supported him calmly, in appearance; and he fixed
on her features his raised eyes that seemed dilating with ecstasy.

He died blissfully, Mr. Lockwood: he died so.  Kissing her cheek, he
murmured,--'I am going to her; and you, darling child, shall come to us!'
and never stirred or spoke again; but continued that rapt, radiant gaze,
till his pulse imperceptibly stopped and his soul departed.  None could
have noticed the exact minute of his death, it was so entirely without a
struggle.

Whether Catherine had spent her tears, or whether the grief were too
weighty to let them flow, she sat there dry-eyed till the sun rose: she
sat till noon, and would still have remained brooding over that deathbed,
but I insisted on her coming away and taking some repose.  It was well I
succeeded in removing her, for at dinner-time appeared the lawyer, having
called at Wuthering Heights to get his instructions how to behave.  He
had sold himself to Mr. Heathcliff: that was the cause of his delay in
obeying my master's summons.  Fortunately, no thought of worldly affairs
crossed the latter's mind, to disturb him, after his daughter's arrival.

Mr. Green took upon himself to order everything and everybody about the
place.  He gave all the servants but me, notice to quit.  He would have
carried his delegated authority to the point of insisting that Edgar
Linton should not be buried beside his wife, but in the chapel, with his
family.  There was the will, however, to hinder that, and my loud
protestations against any infringement of its directions.  The funeral
was hurried over; Catherine, Mrs. Linton Heathcliff now, was suffered to
stay at the Grange till her father's corpse had quitted it.

She told me that her anguish had at last spurred Linton to incur the risk
of liberating her.  She heard the men I sent disputing at the door, and
she gathered the sense of Heathcliff's answer.  It drove her desperate.
Linton who had been conveyed up to the little parlour soon after I left,
was terrified into fetching the key before his father re-ascended.  He
had the cunning to unlock and re-lock the door, without shutting it; and
when he should have gone to bed, he begged to sleep with Hareton, and his
petition was granted for once.  Catherine stole out before break of day.
She dared not try the doors lest the dogs should raise an alarm; she
visited the empty chambers and examined their windows; and, luckily,
lighting on her mother's, she got easily out of its lattice, and on to
the ground, by means of the fir-tree close by.  Her accomplice suffered
for his share in the escape, notwithstanding his timid contrivances.

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

completion: On the fifth afternoon of the captivity, Zillah released Ellen, explaining that Heathcliff said she could go home and that Cathy would follow in time to attend her father's funeral. Edgar was not dead yet, but soon would be. Ellen asked Linton where Catherine was, and he answered that she was shut upstairs, that they were married, and that he was glad she was being treated harshly. Apparently he resented that she hadn't wished to marry him. He was annoyed by her crying, and was glad when Heathcliff struck her as punishment. Ellen rebuked Linton for his selfishness and unkindness, and went to the Grange to get help. Edgar was glad to hear his daughter was safe and would be home soon: he was almost dead, at the age of 39. Upon hearing of Heathcliff's plot to take control of his estate, Edgar sent for Mr. Green, the local attorney, to change his will so that his money would be held in a trust for Cathy. However, Heathcliff bought off Mr. Green and the lawyer did not arrive until it was too late to change the will. The men sent to Wuthering Heights to rescue Cathy returned without her, having believed Heathcliff's tale that she was too sick to travel. Very early the next morning, however, Catherine came back by herself, joyful to hear that her father was still alive. She had convinced Linton to help her escape. Ellen asked her to tell Edgar that she would be content with Linton so that he could die happy, to which she agreed. Edgar died "blissfully". Catherine was stony-eyed with grief. Mr. Green, now employed by Heathcliff, gave all the servants but Ellen notice to quit, and hurried the funeral


prompt:
Chapter: The evening after the funeral, my young lady and I were seated in the
library; now musing mournfully--one of us despairingly--on our loss, now
venturing conjectures as to the gloomy future.

We had just agreed the best destiny which could await Catherine would be
a permission to continue resident at the Grange; at least during Linton's
life: he being allowed to join her there, and I to remain as housekeeper.
That seemed rather too favourable an arrangement to be hoped for; and yet
I did hope, and began to cheer up under the prospect of retaining my home
and my employment, and, above all, my beloved young mistress; when a
servant--one of the discarded ones, not yet departed--rushed hastily in,
and said 'that devil Heathcliff' was coming through the court: should he
fasten the door in his face?

If we had been mad enough to order that proceeding, we had not time.  He
made no ceremony of knocking or announcing his name: he was master, and
availed himself of the master's privilege to walk straight in, without
saying a word.  The sound of our informant's voice directed him to the
library; he entered and motioning him out, shut the door.

It was the same room into which he had been ushered, as a guest, eighteen
years before: the same moon shone through the window; and the same autumn
landscape lay outside.  We had not yet lighted a candle, but all the
apartment was visible, even to the portraits on the wall: the splendid
head of Mrs. Linton, and the graceful one of her husband.  Heathcliff
advanced to the hearth.  Time had little altered his person either.  There
was the same man: his dark face rather sallower and more composed, his
frame a stone or two heavier, perhaps, and no other difference.  Catherine
had risen with an impulse to dash out, when she saw him.

'Stop!' he said, arresting her by the arm.  'No more runnings away!  Where
would you go?  I'm come to fetch you home; and I hope you'll be a dutiful
daughter and not encourage my son to further disobedience.  I was
embarrassed how to punish him when I discovered his part in the business:
he's such a cobweb, a pinch would annihilate him; but you'll see by his
look that he has received his due!  I brought him down one evening, the
day before yesterday, and just set him in a chair, and never touched him
afterwards.  I sent Hareton out, and we had the room to ourselves.  In
two hours, I called Joseph to carry him up again; and since then my
presence is as potent on his nerves as a ghost; and I fancy he sees me
often, though I am not near.  Hareton says he wakes and shrieks in the
night by the hour together, and calls you to protect him from me; and,
whether you like your precious mate, or not, you must come: he's your
concern now; I yield all my interest in him to you.'

'Why not let Catherine continue here,' I pleaded, 'and send Master Linton
to her?  As you hate them both, you'd not miss them: they can only be a
daily plague to your unnatural heart.'

'I'm seeking a tenant for the Grange,' he answered; 'and I want my
children about me, to be sure.  Besides, that lass owes me her services
for her bread.  I'm not going to nurture her in luxury and idleness after
Linton is gone.  Make haste and get ready, now; and don't oblige me to
compel you.'

'I shall,' said Catherine.  'Linton is all I have to love in the world,
and though you have done what you could to make him hateful to me, and me
to him, you cannot make us hate each other.  And I defy you to hurt him
when I am by, and I defy you to frighten me!'

'You are a boastful champion,' replied Heathcliff; 'but I don't like you
well enough to hurt him: you shall get the full benefit of the torment,
as long as it lasts.  It is not I who will make him hateful to you--it is
his own sweet spirit.  He's as bitter as gall at your desertion and its
consequences: don't expect thanks for this noble devotion.  I heard him
draw a pleasant picture to Zillah of what he would do if he were as
strong as I: the inclination is there, and his very weakness will sharpen
his wits to find a substitute for strength.'

'I know he has a bad nature,' said Catherine: 'he's your son.  But I'm
glad I've a better, to forgive it; and I know he loves me, and for that
reason I love him.  Mr. Heathcliff _you_ have _nobody_ to love you; and,
however miserable you make us, we shall still have the revenge of
thinking that your cruelty arises from your greater misery.  You _are_
miserable, are you not?  Lonely, like the devil, and envious like him?
_Nobody_ loves you--_nobody_ will cry for you when you die!  I wouldn't
be you!'

Catherine spoke with a kind of dreary triumph: she seemed to have made up
her mind to enter into the spirit of her future family, and draw pleasure
from the griefs of her enemies.

'You shall be sorry to be yourself presently,' said her father-in-law,
'if you stand there another minute.  Begone, witch, and get your things!'

She scornfully withdrew.  In her absence I began to beg for Zillah's
place at the Heights, offering to resign mine to her; but he would suffer
it on no account.  He bid me be silent; and then, for the first time,
allowed himself a glance round the room and a look at the pictures.
Having studied Mrs. Linton's, he said--'I shall have that home.  Not
because I need it, but--'  He turned abruptly to the fire, and continued,
with what, for lack of a better word, I must call a smile--'I'll tell you
what I did yesterday!  I got the sexton, who was digging Linton's grave,
to remove the earth off her coffin lid, and I opened it.  I thought,
once, I would have stayed there: when I saw her face again--it is hers
yet!--he had hard work to stir me; but he said it would change if the air
blew on it, and so I struck one side of the coffin loose, and covered it
up: not Linton's side, damn him!  I wish he'd been soldered in lead.  And
I bribed the sexton to pull it away when I'm laid there, and slide mine
out too; I'll have it made so: and then by the time Linton gets to us
he'll not know which is which!'

'You were very wicked, Mr. Heathcliff!' I exclaimed; 'were you not
ashamed to disturb the dead?'

'I disturbed nobody, Nelly,' he replied; 'and I gave some ease to myself.
I shall be a great deal more comfortable now; and you'll have a better
chance of keeping me underground, when I get there.  Disturbed her?  No!
she has disturbed me, night and day, through eighteen
years--incessantly--remorselessly--till yesternight; and yesternight I
was tranquil.  I dreamt I was sleeping the last sleep by that sleeper,
with my heart stopped and my cheek frozen against hers.'

'And if she had been dissolved into earth, or worse, what would you have
dreamt of then?' I said.

'Of dissolving with her, and being more happy still!' he answered.  'Do
you suppose I dread any change of that sort?  I expected such a
transformation on raising the lid--but I'm better pleased that it should
not commence till I share it.  Besides, unless I had received a distinct
impression of her passionless features, that strange feeling would hardly
have been removed.  It began oddly.  You know I was wild after she died;
and eternally, from dawn to dawn, praying her to return to me her spirit!
I have a strong faith in ghosts: I have a conviction that they can, and
do, exist among us!  The day she was buried, there came a fall of snow.
In the evening I went to the churchyard.  It blew bleak as winter--all
round was solitary.  I didn't fear that her fool of a husband would
wander up the glen so late; and no one else had business to bring them
there.  Being alone, and conscious two yards of loose earth was the sole
barrier between us, I said to myself--"I'll have her in my arms again!  If
she be cold, I'll think it is this north wind that chills _me_; and if
she be motionless, it is sleep."  I got a spade from the tool-house, and
began to delve with all my might--it scraped the coffin; I fell to work
with my hands; the wood commenced cracking about the screws; I was on the
point of attaining my object, when it seemed that I heard a sigh from
some one above, close at the edge of the grave, and bending down.  "If I
can only get this off," I muttered, "I wish they may shovel in the earth
over us both!" and I wrenched at it more desperately still.  There was
another sigh, close at my ear.  I appeared to feel the warm breath of it
displacing the sleet-laden wind.  I knew no living thing in flesh and
blood was by; but, as certainly as you perceive the approach to some
substantial body in the dark, though it cannot be discerned, so certainly
I felt that Cathy was there: not under me, but on the earth.  A sudden
sense of relief flowed from my heart through every limb.  I relinquished
my labour of agony, and turned consoled at once: unspeakably consoled.
Her presence was with me: it remained while I re-filled the grave, and
led me home.  You may laugh, if you will; but I was sure I should see her
there.  I was sure she was with me, and I could not help talking to her.
Having reached the Heights, I rushed eagerly to the door.  It was
fastened; and, I remember, that accursed Earnshaw and my wife opposed my
entrance.  I remember stopping to kick the breath out of him, and then
hurrying up-stairs, to my room and hers.  I looked round impatiently--I
felt her by me--I could _almost_ see her, and yet I _could not_!  I ought
to have sweat blood then, from the anguish of my yearning--from the
fervour of my supplications to have but one glimpse!  I had not one.  She
showed herself, as she often was in life, a devil to me!  And, since
then, sometimes more and sometimes less, I've been the sport of that
intolerable torture!  Infernal! keeping my nerves at such a stretch that,
if they had not resembled catgut, they would long ago have relaxed to the
feebleness of Linton's.  When I sat in the house with Hareton, it seemed
that on going out I should meet her; when I walked on the moors I should
meet her coming in.  When I went from home I hastened to return; she
_must_ be somewhere at the Heights, I was certain!  And when I slept in
her chamber--I was beaten out of that.  I couldn't lie there; for the
moment I closed my eyes, she was either outside the window, or sliding
back the panels, or entering the room, or even resting her darling head
on the same pillow as she did when a child; and I must open my lids to
see.  And so I opened and closed them a hundred times a night--to be
always disappointed!  It racked me!  I've often groaned aloud, till that
old rascal Joseph no doubt believed that my conscience was playing the
fiend inside of me.  Now, since I've seen her, I'm pacified--a little.  It
was a strange way of killing: not by inches, but by fractions of
hairbreadths, to beguile me with the spectre of a hope through eighteen
years!'

Mr. Heathcliff paused and wiped his forehead; his hair clung to it, wet
with perspiration; his eyes were fixed on the red embers of the fire, the
brows not contracted, but raised next the temples; diminishing the grim
aspect of his countenance, but imparting a peculiar look of trouble, and
a painful appearance of mental tension towards one absorbing subject.  He
only half addressed me, and I maintained silence.  I didn't like to hear
him talk!  After a short period he resumed his meditation on the picture,
took it down and leant it against the sofa to contemplate it at better
advantage; and while so occupied Catherine entered, announcing that she
was ready, when her pony should be saddled.

'Send that over to-morrow,' said Heathcliff to me; then turning to her,
he added: 'You may do without your pony: it is a fine evening, and you'll
need no ponies at Wuthering Heights; for what journeys you take, your own
feet will serve you.  Come along.'

'Good-bye, Ellen!' whispered my dear little mistress.

As she kissed me, her lips felt like ice.  'Come and see me, Ellen; don't
forget.'

'Take care you do no such thing, Mrs. Dean!' said her new father.  'When
I wish to speak to you I'll come here.  I want none of your prying at my
house!'

He signed her to precede him; and casting back a look that cut my heart,
she obeyed.  I watched them, from the window, walk down the garden.
Heathcliff fixed Catherine's arm under his: though she disputed the act
at first evidently; and with rapid strides he hurried her into the alley,
whose trees concealed them.

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

completion: Heathcliff came to the Grange to fetch Catherine to Wuthering Heights to take care of Linton, who was dying in terror of his father. When Ellen begged him to allow Cathy and Linton to live at the Grange, Heathcliff explained that he wanted to get a tenant for the estate. Catherine agreed to go because Linton was all she had to love, and explained that she pitied Heathcliff because no one loved him. Then she left the room. Heathcliff, in a strange mood, told Ellen what he had done the night before. He had bribed the sexton who was digging Edgar's grave to uncover his Catherine's coffin, so he could see her face again--he said it was hers yet. The sexton told him that the face would change if air blew on it, so he tore himself away from contemplating it, and struck one side of the coffin loose and bribed the sexton to put his body in with Catherine's when he was dead. Ellen was shocked, and scolded him for disturbing the dead, at which he replied that on the contrary she had haunted him night and day for eighteen years, and--"yesternight, I was tranquil. I dreamt I was sleeping my last sleep, by that sleeper, with my heart stopped, and my cheek frozen against hers". Heathcliff then told Ellen what he had done the night after Catherine's burial. He had gone to the kirkyard and dug up the coffin "to have her in his arms again" , but while he was wrenching at the screws he suddenly felt sure of her living presence. He was consoled, but tortured as well: from that night for 18 years he constantly felt as though he could almost see her, but not quite. He tried sleeping in her room, but constantly opened his eyes to see if she were there, he felt so sure she was. Heathcliff finished his story, and Cathy sadly bade farewell to Ellen


prompt:
Chapter: I have paid a visit to the Heights, but I have not seen her since she
left: Joseph held the door in his hand when I called to ask after her,
and wouldn't let me pass.  He said Mrs. Linton was 'thrang,' and the
master was not in.  Zillah has told me something of the way they go on,
otherwise I should hardly know who was dead and who living.  She thinks
Catherine haughty, and does not like her, I can guess by her talk.  My
young lady asked some aid of her when she first came; but Mr. Heathcliff
told her to follow her own business, and let his daughter-in-law look
after herself; and Zillah willingly acquiesced, being a narrow-minded,
selfish woman.  Catherine evinced a child's annoyance at this neglect;
repaid it with contempt, and thus enlisted my informant among her
enemies, as securely as if she had done her some great wrong.  I had a
long talk with Zillah about six weeks ago, a little before you came, one
day when we foregathered on the moor; and this is what she told me.

'The first thing Mrs. Linton did,' she said, 'on her arrival at the
Heights, was to run up-stairs, without even wishing good-evening to me
and Joseph; she shut herself into Linton's room, and remained till
morning.  Then, while the master and Earnshaw were at breakfast, she
entered the house, and asked all in a quiver if the doctor might be sent
for? her cousin was very ill.

'"We know that!" answered Heathcliff; "but his life is not worth a
farthing, and I won't spend a farthing on him."

'"But I cannot tell how to do," she said; "and if nobody will help me,
he'll die!"

'"Walk out of the room," cried the master, "and let me never hear a word
more about him!  None here care what becomes of him; if you do, act the
nurse; if you do not, lock him up and leave him."

'Then she began to bother me, and I said I'd had enough plague with the
tiresome thing; we each had our tasks, and hers was to wait on Linton:
Mr. Heathcliff bid me leave that labour to her.

'How they managed together, I can't tell.  I fancy he fretted a great
deal, and moaned hisseln night and day; and she had precious little rest:
one could guess by her white face and heavy eyes.  She sometimes came
into the kitchen all wildered like, and looked as if she would fain beg
assistance; but I was not going to disobey the master: I never dare
disobey him, Mrs. Dean; and, though I thought it wrong that Kenneth
should not be sent for, it was no concern of mine either to advise or
complain, and I always refused to meddle.  Once or twice, after we had
gone to bed, I've happened to open my door again and seen her sitting
crying on the stairs'-top; and then I've shut myself in quick, for fear
of being moved to interfere.  I did pity her then, I'm sure: still I
didn't wish to lose my place, you know.

'At last, one night she came boldly into my chamber, and frightened me
out of my wits, by saying, "Tell Mr. Heathcliff that his son is dying--I'm
sure he is, this time.  Get up, instantly, and tell him."

'Having uttered this speech, she vanished again.  I lay a quarter of an
hour listening and trembling.  Nothing stirred--the house was quiet.

'She's mistaken, I said to myself.  He's got over it.  I needn't disturb
them; and I began to doze.  But my sleep was marred a second time by a
sharp ringing of the bell--the only bell we have, put up on purpose for
Linton; and the master called to me to see what was the matter, and
inform them that he wouldn't have that noise repeated.

'I delivered Catherine's message.  He cursed to himself, and in a few
minutes came out with a lighted candle, and proceeded to their room.  I
followed.  Mrs. Heathcliff was seated by the bedside, with her hands
folded on her knees.  Her father-in-law went up, held the light to
Linton's face, looked at him, and touched him; afterwards he turned to
her.

'"Now--Catherine," he said, "how do you feel?"

'She was dumb.

'"How do you feel, Catherine?" he repeated.

'"He's safe, and I'm free," she answered: "I should feel well--but," she
continued, with a bitterness she couldn't conceal, "you have left me so
long to struggle against death alone, that I feel and see only death!  I
feel like death!"

'And she looked like it, too!  I gave her a little wine.  Hareton and
Joseph, who had been wakened by the ringing and the sound of feet, and
heard our talk from outside, now entered.  Joseph was fain, I believe, of
the lad's removal; Hareton seemed a thought bothered: though he was more
taken up with staring at Catherine than thinking of Linton.  But the
master bid him get off to bed again: we didn't want his help.  He
afterwards made Joseph remove the body to his chamber, and told me to
return to mine, and Mrs. Heathcliff remained by herself.

'In the morning, he sent me to tell her she must come down to breakfast:
she had undressed, and appeared going to sleep, and said she was ill; at
which I hardly wondered.  I informed Mr. Heathcliff, and he
replied,--"Well, let her be till after the funeral; and go up now and
then to get her what is needful; and, as soon as she seems better, tell
me."'

Cathy stayed upstairs a fortnight, according to Zillah; who visited her
twice a day, and would have been rather more friendly, but her attempts
at increasing kindness were proudly and promptly repelled.

Heathcliff went up once, to show her Linton's will.  He had bequeathed
the whole of his, and what had been her, moveable property, to his
father: the poor creature was threatened, or coaxed, into that act during
her week's absence, when his uncle died.  The lands, being a minor, he
could not meddle with.  However, Mr. Heathcliff has claimed and kept them
in his wife's right and his also: I suppose legally; at any rate,
Catherine, destitute of cash and friends, cannot disturb his possession.

'Nobody,' said Zillah, 'ever approached her door, except that once, but
I; and nobody asked anything about her.  The first occasion of her coming
down into the house was on a Sunday afternoon.  She had cried out, when I
carried up her dinner, that she couldn't bear any longer being in the
cold; and I told her the master was going to Thrushcross Grange, and
Earnshaw and I needn't hinder her from descending; so, as soon as she
heard Heathcliff's horse trot off, she made her appearance, donned in
black, and her yellow curls combed back behind her ears as plain as a
Quaker: she couldn't comb them out.

'Joseph and I generally go to chapel on Sundays:' the kirk, you know, has
no minister now, explained Mrs. Dean; and they call the Methodists' or
Baptists' place (I can't say which it is) at Gimmerton, a chapel.  'Joseph
had gone,' she continued, 'but I thought proper to bide at home.  Young
folks are always the better for an elder's over-looking; and Hareton,
with all his bashfulness, isn't a model of nice behaviour.  I let him
know that his cousin would very likely sit with us, and she had been
always used to see the Sabbath respected; so he had as good leave his
guns and bits of indoor work alone, while she stayed.  He coloured up at
the news, and cast his eyes over his hands and clothes.  The train-oil
and gunpowder were shoved out of sight in a minute.  I saw he meant to
give her his company; and I guessed, by his way, he wanted to be
presentable; so, laughing, as I durst not laugh when the master is by, I
offered to help him, if he would, and joked at his confusion.  He grew
sullen, and began to swear.

'Now, Mrs. Dean,' Zillah went on, seeing me not pleased by her manner,
'you happen think your young lady too fine for Mr. Hareton; and happen
you're right: but I own I should love well to bring her pride a peg
lower.  And what will all her learning and her daintiness do for her,
now?  She's as poor as you or I: poorer, I'll be bound: you're saying,
and I'm doing my little all that road.'

Hareton allowed Zillah to give him her aid; and she flattered him into a
good humour; so, when Catherine came, half forgetting her former insults,
he tried to make himself agreeable, by the housekeeper's account.

'Missis walked in,' she said, 'as chill as an icicle, and as high as a
princess.  I got up and offered her my seat in the arm-chair.  No, she
turned up her nose at my civility.  Earnshaw rose, too, and bid her come
to the settle, and sit close by the fire: he was sure she was starved.

'"I've been starved a month and more," she answered, resting on the word
as scornful as she could.

'And she got a chair for herself, and placed it at a distance from both
of us.  Having sat till she was warm, she began to look round, and
discovered a number of books on the dresser; she was instantly upon her
feet again, stretching to reach them: but they were too high up.  Her
cousin, after watching her endeavours a while, at last summoned courage
to help her; she held her frock, and he filled it with the first that
came to hand.

'That was a great advance for the lad.  She didn't thank him; still, he
felt gratified that she had accepted his assistance, and ventured to
stand behind as she examined them, and even to stoop and point out what
struck his fancy in certain old pictures which they contained; nor was he
daunted by the saucy style in which she jerked the page from his finger:
he contented himself with going a bit farther back and looking at her
instead of the book.  She continued reading, or seeking for something to
read.  His attention became, by degrees, quite centred in the study of
her thick silky curls: her face he couldn't see, and she couldn't see
him.  And, perhaps, not quite awake to what he did, but attracted like a
child to a candle, at last he proceeded from staring to touching; he put
out his hand and stroked one curl, as gently as if it were a bird.  He
might have stuck a knife into her neck, she started round in such a
taking.

'"Get away this moment!  How dare you touch me?  Why are you stopping
there?" she cried, in a tone of disgust.  "I can't endure you!  I'll go
upstairs again, if you come near me."

'Mr. Hareton recoiled, looking as foolish as he could do: he sat down in
the settle very quiet, and she continued turning over her volumes another
half hour; finally, Earnshaw crossed over, and whispered to me.

'"Will you ask her to read to us, Zillah?  I'm stalled of doing naught;
and I do like--I could like to hear her!  Dunnot say I wanted it, but ask
of yourseln."

'"Mr. Hareton wishes you would read to us, ma'am," I said, immediately.
"He'd take it very kind--he'd be much obliged."

'She frowned; and looking up, answered--

'"Mr. Hareton, and the whole set of you, will be good enough to
understand that I reject any pretence at kindness you have the hypocrisy
to offer!  I despise you, and will have nothing to say to any of you!
When I would have given my life for one kind word, even to see one of
your faces, you all kept off.  But I won't complain to you!  I'm driven
down here by the cold; not either to amuse you or enjoy your society."

'"What could I ha' done?" began Earnshaw.  "How was I to blame?"

'"Oh! you are an exception," answered Mrs. Heathcliff.  "I never missed
such a concern as you."

'"But I offered more than once, and asked," he said, kindling up at her
pertness, "I asked Mr. Heathcliff to let me wake for you--"

'"Be silent!  I'll go out of doors, or anywhere, rather than have your
disagreeable voice in my ear!" said my lady.

'Hareton muttered she might go to hell, for him! and unslinging his gun,
restrained himself from his Sunday occupations no longer.  He talked now,
freely enough; and she presently saw fit to retreat to her solitude: but
the frost had set in, and, in spite of her pride, she was forced to
condescend to our company, more and more.  However, I took care there
should be no further scorning at my good nature: ever since, I've been as
stiff as herself; and she has no lover or liker among us: and she does
not deserve one; for, let them say the least word to her, and she'll curl
back without respect of any one.  She'll snap at the master himself, and
as good as dares him to thrash her; and the more hurt she gets, the more
venomous she grows.'

At first, on hearing this account from Zillah, I determined to leave my
situation, take a cottage, and get Catherine to come and live with me:
but Mr. Heathcliff would as soon permit that as he would set up Hareton
in an independent house; and I can see no remedy, at present, unless she
could marry again; and that scheme it does not come within my province to
arrange.

* * * * *

Thus ended Mrs. Dean's story.  Notwithstanding the doctor's prophecy, I
am rapidly recovering strength; and though it be only the second week in
January, I propose getting out on horseback in a day or two, and riding
over to Wuthering Heights, to inform my landlord that I shall spend the
next six months in London; and, if he likes, he may look out for another
tenant to take the place after October.  I would not pass another winter
here for much.

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

completion: Ellen has now more or less reached the present time in her narrative, and tells Lockwood what Zillah told her about Cathy's reception at Wuthering Heights. Cathy spent all her time in Linton's room, and when she came out she asked Heathcliff to call a doctor, because Linton was very sick. Heathcliff replied: "We know that. But his life is not worth a farthing". Cathy was thus left to care for her dying cousin all by herself--Zillah, Hareton and Joseph would not help her--and became haggard and bewildered from lack of sleep. Finally Linton died, and when Heathcliff asked Cathy how she felt, she said: "He's safe and I'm free. I should feel very well but you have left me so long to struggle against death, alone, that I feel and see only death. I feel like death. Hareton was sorry for her. Cathy was ill for the next two weeks. Heathcliff informed her that Linton had left all of his and his wife's property to himself. One day when Heathcliff was out, Cathy came downstairs. Hareton made shy, friendly advances, which she angrily rejected. He asked Zillah to ask Cathy to read for them but she refused on the grounds that she had been forsaken during Linton's illness, and had no reason to care for Hareton or Zillah. Hareton said that he had in fact asked Heathcliff to be allowed to relieve her of some of her duties, but was denied. Cathy was in no mood to forgive, however, and thus became the unfriendly young woman whom Lockwood had seen at Wuthering Heights. According to Zillah: "She'll snap at the master himself, and as good dares him to thrash her; and the more hurt she gets, the more venomous she grows". Ellen wanted to get a cottage and live there with Cathy, but Heathcliff would not permit it. Ellen now believes that the only way Cathy might escape from Wuthering Heights is to marry a second time