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Wuthering Heights, Chapter 21 - The Best Place to Curl Up with a Good Book [entries|archive|friends|userinfo]
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Wuthering Heights, Chapter 21 [Jun. 27th, 2007|04:42 pm]
Big Comfy Chair

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[mood |busybusy]



CHAPTER XXI



WE had sad work with little Cathy that day: she rose in high glee,
eager to join her cousin, and such passionate tears and
lamentations followed the news of his departure that Edgar himself
was obliged to soothe her, by affirming he should come back soon:
he added, however, 'if I can get him'; and there were no hopes of
that. This promise poorly pacified her; but time was more potent;
and though still at intervals she inquired of her father when
Linton would return, before she did see him again his features had
waxed so dim in her memory that she did not recognise him.

When I chanced to encounter the housekeeper of Wuthering Heights,
in paying business visits to Gimmerton, I used to ask how the young
master got on; for he lived almost as secluded as Catherine
herself, and was never to be seen. I could gather from her that he
continued in weak health, and was a tiresome inmate. She said Mr.
Heathcliff seemed to dislike him ever longer and worse, though he
took some trouble to conceal it: he had an antipathy to the sound
of his voice, and could not do at all with his sitting in the same
room with him many minutes together. There seldom passed much talk
between them: Linton learnt his lessons and spent his evenings in
a small apartment they called the parlour: or else lay in bed all
day: for he was constantly getting coughs, and colds, and aches,
and pains of some sort.

'And I never know such a fainthearted creature,' added the woman;
'nor one so careful of hisseln. He WILL go on, if I leave the
window open a bit late in the evening. Oh! it's killing, a breath
of night air! And he must have a fire in the middle of summer; and
Joseph's bacca-pipe is poison; and he must always have sweets and
dainties, and always milk, milk for ever - heeding naught how the
rest of us are pinched in winter; and there he'll sit, wrapped in
his furred cloak in his chair by the fire, with some toast and
water or other slop on the hob to sip at; and if Hareton, for pity,
comes to amuse him - Hareton is not bad-natured, though he's rough
- they're sure to part, one swearing and the other crying. I
believe the master would relish Earnshaw's thrashing him to a
mummy, if he were not his son; and I'm certain he would be fit to
turn him out of doors, if he knew half the nursing he gives
hisseln. But then he won't go into danger of temptation: he never
enters the parlour, and should Linton show those ways in the house
where he is, he sends him up-stairs directly.'

I divined, from this account, that utter lack of sympathy had
rendered young Heathcliff selfish and disagreeable, if he were not
so originally; and my interest in him, consequently, decayed:
though still I was moved with a sense of grief at his lot, and a
wish that he had been left with us. Mr. Edgar encouraged me to
gain information: he thought a great deal about him, I fancy, and
would have run some risk to see him; and he told me once to ask the
housekeeper whether he ever came into the village? She said he had
only been twice, on horseback, accompanying his father; and both
times he pretended to be quite knocked up for three or four days
afterwards. That housekeeper left, if I recollect rightly, two
years after he came; and another, whom I did not know, was her
successor; she lives there still.

Time wore on at the Grange in its former pleasant way till Miss
Cathy reached sixteen. On the anniversary of her birth we never
manifested any signs of rejoicing, because it was also the
anniversary of my late mistress's death. Her father invariably
spent that day alone in the library; and walked, at dusk, as far as
Gimmerton kirkyard, where he would frequently prolong his stay
beyond midnight. Therefore Catherine was thrown on her own
resources for amusement. This twentieth of March was a beautiful
spring day, and when her father had retired, my young lady came
down dressed for going out, and said she asked to have a ramble on
the edge of the moor with me: Mr. Linton had given her leave, if
we went only a short distance and were back within the hour.

'So make haste, Ellen!' she cried. 'I know where I wish to go;
where a colony of moor-game are settled: I want to see whether
they have made their nests yet.'

'That must be a good distance up,' I answered; 'they don't breed on
the edge of the moor.'

'No, it's not,' she said. 'I've gone very near with papa.'

I put on my bonnet and sallied out, thinking nothing more of the
matter. She bounded before me, and returned to my side, and was
off again like a young greyhound; and, at first, I found plenty of
entertainment in listening to the larks singing far and near, and
enjoying the sweet, warm sunshine; and watching her, my pet and my
delight, with her golden ringlets flying loose behind, and her
bright cheek, as soft and pure in its bloom as a wild rose, and her
eyes radiant with cloudless pleasure. She was a happy creature,
and an angel, in those days. It's a pity she could not be content.

'Well,' said I, 'where are your moor-game, Miss Cathy? We should
be at them: the Grange park-fence is a great way off now.'

'Oh, a little further - only a little further, Ellen,' was her
answer, continually. 'Climb to that hillock, pass that bank, and
by the time you reach the other side I shall have raised the
birds.'

But there were so many hillocks and banks to climb and pass, that,
at length, I began to be weary, and told her we must halt, and
retrace our steps. I shouted to her, as she had outstripped me a
long way; she either did not hear or did not regard, for she still
sprang on, and I was compelled to follow. Finally, she dived into
a hollow; and before I came in sight of her again, she was two
miles nearer Wuthering Heights than her own home; and I beheld a
couple of persons arrest her, one of whom I felt convinced was Mr.
Heathcliff himself.

Cathy had been caught in the fact of plundering, or, at least,
hunting out the nests of the grouse. The Heights were Heathcliff's
land, and he was reproving the poacher.

'I've neither taken any nor found any,' she said, as I toiled to
them, expanding her hands in corroboration of the statement. 'I
didn't mean to take them; but papa told me there were quantities up
here, and I wished to see the eggs.'

Heathcliff glanced at me with an ill-meaning smile, expressing his
acquaintance with the party, and, consequently, his malevolence
towards it, and demanded who 'papa' was?

'Mr. Linton of Thrushcross Grange,' she replied. 'I thought you
did not know me, or you wouldn't have spoken in that way.'

'You suppose papa is highly esteemed and respected, then?' he said,
sarcastically.

'And what are you?' inquired Catherine, gazing curiously on the
speaker. 'That man I've seen before. Is he your son?'

She pointed to Hareton, the other individual, who had gained
nothing but increased bulk and strength by the addition of two
years to his age: he seemed as awkward and rough as ever.

'Miss Cathy,' I interrupted, 'it will be three hours instead of one
that we are out, presently. We really must go back.'

'No, that man is not my son,' answered Heathcliff, pushing me
aside. 'But I have one, and you have seen him before too; and,
though your nurse is in a hurry, I think both you and she would be
the better for a little rest. Will you just turn this nab of
heath, and walk into my house? You'll get home earlier for the
ease; and you shall receive a kind welcome.'

I whispered Catherine that she mustn't, on any account, accede to
the proposal: it was entirely out of the question.

'Why?' she asked, aloud. 'I'm tired of running, and the ground is
dewy: I can't sit here. Let us go, Ellen. Besides, he says I
have seen his son. He's mistaken, I think; but I guess where he
lives: at the farmhouse I visited in coming from Penistone' Crags.
Don't you?'

'I do. Come, Nelly, hold your tongue - it will he a treat for her
to look in on us. Hareton, get forwards with the lass. You shall
walk with me, Nelly.'

'No, she's not going to any such place,' I cried, struggling to
release my arm, which he had seized: but she was almost at the
door-stones already, scampering round the brow at full speed. Her
appointed companion did not pretend to escort her: he shied off by
the road-side, and vanished.

'Mr. Heathcliff, it's very wrong,' I continued: 'you know you mean
no good. And there she'll see Linton, and all will be told as soon
as ever we return; and I shall have the blame.'

'I want her to see Linton,' he answered; 'he's looking better these
few days; it's not often he's fit to be seen. And we'll soon
persuade her to keep the visit secret: where is the harm of it?'

'The harm of it is, that her father would hate me if he found I
suffered her to enter your house; and I am convinced you have a bad
design in encouraging her to do so,' I replied.

'My design is as honest as possible. I'll inform you of its whole
scope,' he said. 'That the two cousins may fall in love, and get
married. I'm acting generously to your master: his young chit has
no expectations, and should she second my wishes she'll be provided
for at once as joint successor with Linton.'

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Yes, father,' answered the boy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Catherine looked queer.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I obeyed her summons, and accompanied her out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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


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