Chapter: In the course of time Mr. Earnshaw began to fail. He had been active and
healthy, yet his strength left him suddenly; and when he was confined to
the chimney-corner he grew grievously irritable. A nothing vexed him;
and suspected slights of his authority nearly threw him into fits. This
was especially to be remarked if any one attempted to impose upon, or
domineer over, his favourite: he was painfully jealous lest a word
should be spoken amiss to him; seeming to have got into his head the
notion that, because he liked Heathcliff, all hated, and longed to do
him an ill-turn. It was a disadvantage to the lad; for the kinder among
us did not wish to fret the master, so we humoured his partiality; and
that humouring was rich nourishment to the child's pride and black
tempers. Still it became in a manner necessary; twice, or thrice,
Hindley's manifestation of scorn, while his father was near, roused the
old man to a fury: he seized his stick to strike him, and shook with
rage that he could not do it.

At last, our curate (we had a curate then who made the living answer by
teaching the little Lintons and Earnshaws, and farming his bit of land
himself) advised that the young man should be sent to college; and Mr.
Earnshaw agreed, though with a heavy spirit, for he said--'Hindley was
nought, and would never thrive as where he wandered.'

I hoped heartily we should have peace now.  It hurt me to think the
master should be made uncomfortable by his own good deed.  I fancied the
discontent of age and disease arose from his family disagreements; as he
would have it that it did: really, you know, sir, it was in his sinking
frame.  We might have got on tolerably, notwithstanding, but for two
people--Miss Cathy, and Joseph, the servant: you saw him, I daresay, up
yonder.  He was, and is yet most likely, the wearisomest self-righteous
Pharisee that ever ransacked a Bible to rake the promises to himself and
fling the curses to his neighbours.  By his knack of sermonising and
pious discoursing, he contrived to make a great impression on Mr.
Earnshaw; and the more feeble the master became, the more influence he
gained.  He was relentless in worrying him about his soul's concerns, and
about ruling his children rigidly.  He encouraged him to regard Hindley
as a reprobate; and, night after night, he regularly grumbled out a long
string of tales against Heathcliff and Catherine: always minding to
flatter Earnshaw's weakness by heaping the heaviest blame on the latter.

Certainly she had ways with her such as I never saw a child take up
before; and she put all of us past our patience fifty times and oftener
in a day: from the hour she came down-stairs till the hour she went to
bed, we had not a minute's security that she wouldn't be in mischief.  Her
spirits were always at high-water mark, her tongue always going--singing,
laughing, and plaguing everybody who would not do the same.  A wild,
wicked slip she was--but she had the bonniest eye, the sweetest smile,
and lightest foot in the parish: and, after all, I believe she meant no
harm; for when once she made you cry in good earnest, it seldom happened
that she would not keep you company, and oblige you to be quiet that you
might comfort her.  She was much too fond of Heathcliff.  The greatest
punishment we could invent for her was to keep her separate from him: yet
she got chided more than any of us on his account.  In play, she liked
exceedingly to act the little mistress; using her hands freely, and
commanding her companions: she did so to me, but I would not bear
slapping and ordering; and so I let her know.

Now, Mr. Earnshaw did not understand jokes from his children: he had
always been strict and grave with them; and Catherine, on her part, had
no idea why her father should be crosser and less patient in his ailing
condition than he was in his prime.  His peevish reproofs wakened in her
a naughty delight to provoke him: she was never so happy as when we were
all scolding her at once, and she defying us with her bold, saucy look,
and her ready words; turning Joseph's religious curses into ridicule,
baiting me, and doing just what her father hated most--showing how her
pretended insolence, which he thought real, had more power over
Heathcliff than his kindness: how the boy would do _her_ bidding in
anything, and _his_ only when it suited his own inclination.  After
behaving as badly as possible all day, she sometimes came fondling to
make it up at night.  'Nay, Cathy,' the old man would say, 'I cannot love
thee, thou'rt worse than thy brother.  Go, say thy prayers, child, and
ask God's pardon.  I doubt thy mother and I must rue that we ever reared
thee!'  That made her cry, at first; and then being repulsed continually
hardened her, and she laughed if I told her to say she was sorry for her
faults, and beg to be forgiven.

But the hour came, at last, that ended Mr. Earnshaw's troubles on earth.
He died quietly in his chair one October evening, seated by the
fire-side.  A high wind blustered round the house, and roared in the
chimney: it sounded wild and stormy, yet it was not cold, and we were all
together--I, a little removed from the hearth, busy at my knitting, and
Joseph reading his Bible near the table (for the servants generally sat
in the house then, after their work was done).  Miss Cathy had been sick,
and that made her still; she leant against her father's knee, and
Heathcliff was lying on the floor with his head in her lap.  I remember
the master, before he fell into a doze, stroking her bonny hair--it
pleased him rarely to see her gentle--and saying, 'Why canst thou not
always be a good lass, Cathy?'  And she turned her face up to his, and
laughed, and answered, 'Why cannot you always be a good man, father?'  But
as soon as she saw him vexed again, she kissed his hand, and said she
would sing him to sleep.  She began singing very low, till his fingers
dropped from hers, and his head sank on his breast.  Then I told her to
hush, and not stir, for fear she should wake him.  We all kept as mute as
mice a full half-hour, and should have done so longer, only Joseph,
having finished his chapter, got up and said that he must rouse the
master for prayers and bed.  He stepped forward, and called him by name,
and touched his shoulder; but he would not move: so he took the candle
and looked at him.  I thought there was something wrong as he set down
the light; and seizing the children each by an arm, whispered them to
'frame up-stairs, and make little din--they might pray alone that
evening--he had summut to do.'

'I shall bid father good-night first,' said Catherine, putting her arms
round his neck, before we could hinder her.  The poor thing discovered
her loss directly--she screamed out--'Oh, he's dead, Heathcliff! he's
dead!'  And they both set up a heart-breaking cry.

I joined my wail to theirs, loud and bitter; but Joseph asked what we
could be thinking of to roar in that way over a saint in heaven.  He told
me to put on my cloak and run to Gimmerton for the doctor and the parson.
I could not guess the use that either would be of, then.  However, I
went, through wind and rain, and brought one, the doctor, back with me;
the other said he would come in the morning.  Leaving Joseph to explain
matters, I ran to the children's room: their door was ajar, I saw they
had never lain down, though it was past midnight; but they were calmer,
and did not need me to console them.  The little souls were comforting
each other with better thoughts than I could have hit on: no parson in
the world ever pictured heaven so beautifully as they did, in their
innocent talk; and, while I sobbed and listened, I could not help wishing
we were all there safe together.





Mr. Hindley came home to the funeral; and--a thing that amazed us, and
set the neighbours gossiping right and left--he brought a wife with him.
What she was, and where she was born, he never informed us: probably, she
had neither money nor name to recommend her, or he would scarcely have
kept the union from his father.

She was not one that would have disturbed the house much on her own
account.  Every object she saw, the moment she crossed the threshold,
appeared to delight her; and every circumstance that took place about
her: except the preparing for the burial, and the presence of the
mourners.  I thought she was half silly, from her behaviour while that
went on: she ran into her chamber, and made me come with her, though I
should have been dressing the children: and there she sat shivering and
clasping her hands, and asking repeatedly--'Are they gone yet?'  Then she
began describing with hysterical emotion the effect it produced on her to
see black; and started, and trembled, and, at last, fell a-weeping--and
when I asked what was the matter, answered, she didn't know; but she felt
so afraid of dying!  I imagined her as little likely to die as myself.
She was rather thin, but young, and fresh-complexioned, and her eyes
sparkled as bright as diamonds.  I did remark, to be sure, that mounting
the stairs made her breathe very quick; that the least sudden noise set
her all in a quiver, and that she coughed troublesomely sometimes: but I
knew nothing of what these symptoms portended, and had no impulse to
sympathise with her.  We don't in general take to foreigners here, Mr.
Lockwood, unless they take to us first.

Young Earnshaw was altered considerably in the three years of his
absence. He had grown sparer, and lost his colour, and spoke and dressed
quite differently; and, on the very day of his return, he told Joseph
and me we must thenceforth quarter ourselves in the back-kitchen, and
leave the house for him. Indeed, he would have carpeted and papered a
small spare room for a parlour; but his wife expressed such pleasure at
the white floor and huge glowing fireplace, at the pewter dishes and
delf-case, and dog-kennel, and the wide space there was to move about in
where they usually sat, that he thought it unnecessary to her comfort,
and so dropped the intention.

She expressed pleasure, too, at finding a sister among her new
acquaintance; and she prattled to Catherine, and kissed her, and ran
about with her, and gave her quantities of presents, at the beginning.
Her affection tired very soon, however, and when she grew peevish,
Hindley became tyrannical.  A few words from her, evincing a dislike to
Heathcliff, were enough to rouse in him all his old hatred of the boy.  He
drove him from their company to the servants, deprived him of the
instructions of the curate, and insisted that he should labour out of
doors instead; compelling him to do so as hard as any other lad on the
farm.

Heathcliff bore his degradation pretty well at first, because Cathy
taught him what she learnt, and worked or played with him in the fields.
They both promised fair to grow up as rude as savages; the young master
being entirely negligent how they behaved, and what they did, so they
kept clear of him.  He would not even have seen after their going to
church on Sundays, only Joseph and the curate reprimanded his
carelessness when they absented themselves; and that reminded him to
order Heathcliff a flogging, and Catherine a fast from dinner or supper.
But it was one of their chief amusements to run away to the moors in the
morning and remain there all day, and the after punishment grew a mere
thing to laugh at.  The curate might set as many chapters as he pleased
for Catherine to get by heart, and Joseph might thrash Heathcliff till
his arm ached; they forgot everything the minute they were together
again: at least the minute they had contrived some naughty plan of
revenge; and many a time I've cried to myself to watch them growing more
reckless daily, and I not daring to speak a syllable, for fear of losing
the small power I still retained over the unfriended creatures.  One
Sunday evening, it chanced that they were banished from the sitting-room,
for making a noise, or a light offence of the kind; and when I went to
call them to supper, I could discover them nowhere.  We searched the
house, above and below, and the yard and stables; they were invisible:
and, at last, Hindley in a passion told us to bolt the doors, and swore
nobody should let them in that night.  The household went to bed; and I,
too, anxious to lie down, opened my lattice and put my head out to
hearken, though it rained: determined to admit them in spite of the
prohibition, should they return.  In a while, I distinguished steps
coming up the road, and the light of a lantern glimmered through the
gate.  I threw a shawl over my head and ran to prevent them from waking
Mr. Earnshaw by knocking.  There was Heathcliff, by himself: it gave me a
start to see him alone.

'Where is Miss Catherine?' I cried hurriedly. 'No accident, I hope?' 'At
Thrushcross Grange,' he answered; 'and I would have been there too, but
they had not the manners to ask me to stay.' 'Well, you will catch it!'
I said: 'you'll never be content till you're sent about your business.
What in the world led you wandering to Thrushcross Grange?' 'Let me get
off my wet clothes, and I'll tell you all about it, Nelly,' he replied.
I bid him beware of rousing the master, and while he undressed and I
waited to put out the candle, he continued--'Cathy and I escaped from
the wash-house to have a ramble at liberty, and getting a glimpse of the
Grange lights, we thought we would just go and see whether the Lintons
passed their Sunday evenings standing shivering in corners, while their
father and mother sat eating and drinking, and singing and laughing, and
burning their eyes out before the fire. Do you think they do? Or reading
sermons, and being catechised by their manservant, and set to learn a
column of Scripture names, if they don't answer properly?' 'Probably
not,' I responded. 'They are good children, no doubt, and don't deserve
the treatment you receive, for your bad conduct.' 'Don't cant, Nelly,'
he said: 'nonsense! We ran from the top of the Heights to the park,
without stopping--Catherine completely beaten in the race, because she
was barefoot. You'll have to seek for her shoes in the bog to-morrow. We
crept through a broken hedge, groped our way up the path, and planted
ourselves on a flower-plot under the drawing-room window. The light came
from thence; they had not put up the shutters, and the curtains were
only half closed. Both of us were able to look in by standing on the
basement, and clinging to the ledge, and we saw--ah! it was beautiful--a
splendid place carpeted with crimson, and crimson-covered chairs and
tables, and a pure white ceiling bordered by gold, a shower of
glass-drops hanging in silver chains from the centre, and shimmering
with little soft tapers. Old Mr. and Mrs. Linton were not there; Edgar
and his sisters had it entirely to themselves. Shouldn't they have been
happy? We should have thought ourselves in heaven! And now, guess what
your good children were doing? Isabella--I believe she is eleven, a year
younger than Cathy--lay screaming at the farther end of the room,
shrieking as if witches were running red-hot needles into her. Edgar
stood on the hearth weeping silently, and in the middle of the table sat
a little dog, shaking its paw and yelping; which, from their mutual
accusations, we understood they had nearly pulled in two between them.
The idiots! That was their pleasure! to quarrel who should hold a heap
of warm hair, and each begin to cry because both, after struggling to
get it, refused to take it. We laughed outright at the petted things; we
did despise them! When would you catch me wishing to have what Catherine
wanted? or find us by ourselves, seeking entertainment in yelling, and
sobbing, and rolling on the ground, divided by the whole room? I'd not
exchange, for a thousand lives, my condition here, for Edgar Linton's at
Thrushcross Grange--not if I might have the privilege of flinging Joseph
off the highest gable, and painting the house-front with Hindley's
blood!'

'Hush, hush!' I interrupted.  'Still you have not told me, Heathcliff,
how Catherine is left behind?'

'I told you we laughed,' he answered. 'The Lintons heard us, and with
one accord they shot like arrows to the door; there was silence, and
then a cry, "Oh, mamma, mamma! Oh, papa! Oh, mamma, come here. Oh, papa,
oh!" They really did howl out something in that way. We made frightful
noises to terrify them still more, and then we dropped off the ledge,
because somebody was drawing the bars, and we felt we had better flee. I
had Cathy by the hand, and was urging her on, when all at once she fell
down. "Run, Heathcliff, run!" she whispered. "They have let the bull-dog
loose, and he holds me!" The devil had seized her ankle, Nelly: I heard
his abominable snorting. She did not yell out--no! she would have
scorned to do it, if she had been spitted on the horns of a mad cow. I
did, though: I vociferated curses enough to annihilate any fiend in
Christendom; and I got a stone and thrust it between his jaws, and tried
with all my might to cram it down his throat. A beast of a servant came
up with a lantern, at last, shouting--"Keep fast, Skulker, keep fast!"
He changed his note, however, when he saw Skulker's game. The dog was
throttled off; his huge, purple tongue hanging half a foot out of his
mouth, and his pendent lips streaming with bloody slaver. The man took
Cathy up; she was sick: not from fear, I'm certain, but from pain. He
carried her in; I followed, grumbling execrations and vengeance. "What
prey, Robert?" hallooed Linton from the entrance. "Skulker has caught a
little girl, sir," he replied; "and there's a lad here," he added,
making a clutch at me, "who looks an out-and-outer! Very like the
robbers were for putting them through the window to open the doors to
the gang after all were asleep, that they might murder us at their ease.
Hold your tongue, you foul-mouthed thief, you! you shall go to the
gallows for this. Mr. Linton, sir, don't lay by your gun." "No, no,
Robert," said the old fool. "The rascals knew that yesterday was my
rent-day: they thought to have me cleverly. Come in; I'll furnish them a
reception. There, John, fasten the chain. Give Skulker some water,
Jenny. To beard a magistrate in his stronghold, and on the Sabbath, too!
Where will their insolence stop? Oh, my dear Mary, look here! Don't be
afraid, it is but a boy--yet the villain scowls so plainly in his face;
would it not be a kindness to the country to hang him at once, before he
shows his nature in acts as well as features?" He pulled me under the
chandelier, and Mrs. Linton placed her spectacles on her nose and raised
her hands in horror. The cowardly children crept nearer also, Isabella
lisping--"Frightful thing! Put him in the cellar, papa. He's exactly
like the son of the fortune-teller that stole my tame pheasant. Isn't
he, Edgar?"

'While they examined me, Cathy came round; she heard the last speech, and
laughed.  Edgar Linton, after an inquisitive stare, collected sufficient
wit to recognise her.  They see us at church, you know, though we seldom
meet them elsewhere.  "That's Miss Earnshaw?" he whispered to his mother,
"and look how Skulker has bitten her--how her foot bleeds!"

'"Miss Earnshaw?  Nonsense!" cried the dame; "Miss Earnshaw scouring the
country with a gipsy!  And yet, my dear, the child is in mourning--surely
it is--and she may be lamed for life!"

'"What culpable carelessness in her brother!" exclaimed Mr. Linton,
turning from me to Catherine.  "I've understood from Shielders"' (that
was the curate, sir) '"that he lets her grow up in absolute heathenism.
But who is this?  Where did she pick up this companion?  Oho! I declare
he is that strange acquisition my late neighbour made, in his journey to
Liverpool--a little Lascar, or an American or Spanish castaway."

'"A wicked boy, at all events," remarked the old lady, "and quite unfit
for a decent house!  Did you notice his language, Linton?  I'm shocked
that my children should have heard it."

'I recommenced cursing--don't be angry, Nelly--and so Robert was ordered
to take me off.  I refused to go without Cathy; he dragged me into the
garden, pushed the lantern into my hand, assured me that Mr. Earnshaw
should be informed of my behaviour, and, bidding me march directly,
secured the door again.  The curtains were still looped up at one corner,
and I resumed my station as spy; because, if Catherine had wished to
return, I intended shattering their great glass panes to a million of
fragments, unless they let her out.  She sat on the sofa quietly.  Mrs.
Linton took off the grey cloak of the dairy-maid which we had borrowed
for our excursion, shaking her head and expostulating with her, I
suppose: she was a young lady, and they made a distinction between her
treatment and mine.  Then the woman-servant brought a basin of warm
water, and washed her feet; and Mr. Linton mixed a tumbler of negus, and
Isabella emptied a plateful of cakes into her lap, and Edgar stood gaping
at a distance.  Afterwards, they dried and combed her beautiful hair, and
gave her a pair of enormous slippers, and wheeled her to the fire; and I
left her, as merry as she could be, dividing her food between the little
dog and Skulker, whose nose she pinched as he ate; and kindling a spark
of spirit in the vacant blue eyes of the Lintons--a dim reflection from
her own enchanting face.  I saw they were full of stupid admiration; she
is so immeasurably superior to them--to everybody on earth, is she not,
Nelly?'

'There will more come of this business than you reckon on,' I answered,
covering him up and extinguishing the light.  'You are incurable,
Heathcliff; and Mr. Hindley will have to proceed to extremities, see if
he won't.'  My words came truer than I desired.  The luckless adventure
made Earnshaw furious.  And then Mr. Linton, to mend matters, paid us a
visit himself on the morrow, and read the young master such a lecture on
the road he guided his family, that he was stirred to look about him, in
earnest.  Heathcliff received no flogging, but he was told that the first
word he spoke to Miss Catherine should ensure a dismissal; and Mrs.
Earnshaw undertook to keep her sister-in-law in due restraint when she
returned home; employing art, not force: with force she would have found
it impossible.





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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

* * * * *

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'A terribly lazy mood, I should say.'

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

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

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

Mrs. Dean laughed.

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

 Mr. Earnshaw's health is failing and he will not hear a bad word against Heathcliff, further alienating Hindley, who is sent away. His servant, Joseph, who is a religious fanatic, has more and more influence over his master. Cathy does not realize the seriousness of her father's condition and this only hits her when he dies. Heathcliff consoles Cathy with talk of the afterlife. Hindley returns for his father's funeral accompanied by his new wife, Frances. He immediately takes control of the farmhouse, moving the servants Joseph and Nelly to the back kitchen, and Heathcliff is to receive no education. He forces him to become the farm laborer. Heathcliff and Cathy are still able to escape the real world and play on the moors. One day, the pair disappears and Hindley orders the doors to be bolted when night draws in. Nelly waits up for them, but Heathcliff returns alone saying that Cathy is at Thrushcross Grange. They had entered the gardens of the Grange with a view to watching Edgar and Isabella Linton, the children of the Linton household in order to make fun of them. They were discovered, and the Lintons' dog bit Cathy, and she was unable to escape. A servant came out and carried Cathy into the Grange. Mr. And Mrs. Linton say that Cathy's injury is too serious, and she must spend the night at the Grange, but Heathcliff is sent away. Mr. Linton calls on Hindley the next day and chastises him over the way he is raising his sister. Hindley takes his anger out on Heathcliff, telling him that he will be thrown out if he ever talks to Cathy again. Cathy remains at the Grange for 5 weeks, during which time Mrs. Linton is determined to transform the wild girl from the moors into a young lady. When she eventually returns to Wuthering Heights she has undergone a transformation. She humiliates Heathcliff in front of Hindley by saying that he looks dirty and is no comparison to Edgar Linton. Heathcliff is deeply hurt by this insult and by the change that has taken place in Cathy. Hindley decides to invite the Lintons for dinner and they agree, provided that Heathcliff is kept away from their children. Hindley agrees. Despite this, Nelly encourages Heathcliff to make himself presentable for when the Lintons arrive. When the Lintons arrive, Heathcliff is sent to the kitchen, but he overhears Edgar insulting him and he throws hot applesauce in Edgar's face. Heathcliff is locked in the attic. Cathy blames Edgar for getting Heathcliff into trouble and after dinner she sneaks away to visit Heathcliff. Heathcliff tells Nelly that he will get his revenge on Hindley one day.

