| 1 |
A LETTER, edged with black, announced the day of my
master's return.
Isabella was dead; and he wrote to bid me get mourning for his
daughter, and arrange a room, and other accommodations, for his
youthful nephew.
| 2 |
Catherine ran wild with joy at the idea of welcoming her father
back: and indulged most sanguine anticipations of the innumerable
excellencies of her "real" cousin.
| | 3 |
The evening of their expected arrival came.
Since early morning, she had been busy, ordering her own small
affairs; and now, attired in her new black frock -- poor thing! her
aunt's death impressed her with no definite sorrow -- she obliged
me, by constant worrying, to walk with her, down through the
grounds, to meet them.
| | 4 |
"Linton is just six months younger than I am," she chattered as we
strolled leisurely over the swells and hollows of mossy turf, under
shadow of the trees.
"How delightful it will be to have him for a playfellow!
Aunt Isabella sent papa a beautiful lock of his hair; it was
lighter than mine -- more flaxen, and quite as fine.
I have it carefully preserved in a little glass box; and I've often
thought what pleasure it would be to see its owner -- Oh!
I am happy -- and papa, dear, dear papa! come, Ellen, let us run!
come run."
| | 5 |
She ran, and returned and ran again, many times before my sober
footsteps reached the gate, and then she seated herself on the
grassy bank beside the path, and tried to wait patiently; but that
was impossible; she couldn't be still a minute.
| | 6 |
"How long they are!" she exclaimed.
No!
When will they be here?
May we not go a little way -- half a mile, Ellen, only just half a
mile?
Do say yes, to that clump of birches at the turn!"
| | 7 |
I refused staunchily: and, at length, her suspense was ended: the
travelling carriage rolled in sight.
| | 8 |
Miss Cathy shrieked, and stretched out her arms, as soon as she
caught her father's face, looking from the window.
He descended, nearly as eager as herself; and a considerable
interval elapsed, ere they had a thought to spare for any but
themselves.
| | 9 |
While they exchanged caresses, I took a peep in to see after
Linton.
He was asleep, in a corner, wrapped in a warm, fur-lined cloak, as
if it had been winter.
A pale, delicate, effeminate boy, who might have been taken for my
master's younger brother, so strong was the resemblance, but there
was a sickly peevishness in his aspect, that Edgar Linton never
had.
| | 10 |
The latter saw me looking; and having shaken hands, advised me to
close the door, and leave him undisturbed; for the journey had
fatigued him.
| | 11 |
Cathy would fain have taken one glance; but her father told her to
come on, and they walked together up the park, while I hastened
before, to prepare the servants.
| | 12 |
"Now, darling," said Mr Linton, addressing his daughter, as they
halted at the bottom of the front steps.
"Your cousin is not so strong, or so merry as you are, and he has
lost his mother, remember, a very short time since, therefore,
don't expect him to play, and run about with you directly.
And don't harass him much by talking -- let him be quiet this
evening, at least, will you?"
| | 13 |
"Yes, yes, papa," answered Catherine; "but I do want to see him;
and he hasn't once looked out."
| | 14 |
The carriage stopped; and the sleeper, being roused, was lifted to
| | 15 |
"This is your cousin Cathy, Linton," he said, putting their little
hands together.
"She's fond of you already; and mind you don't grieve her by crying
to-night.
Try to be cheerful now; the travelling is at an end, and you have
nothing to do but rest and amuse yourself as you please."
| | 16 |
"Let me go to bed then," answered the boy, shrinking from
Catherine's salute; and he put his fingers to his eyes to remove
incipient tears.
| | 17 |
"Come, come, there's a good child," I whispered, leading him in.
"You'll make her weep too -- see how sorry she is for you!"
| | 18 |
I do not know whether it were sorrow for him, but his cousin put on
as sad a countenance as himself, and returned to her father.
All three entered, and mounted to the library where tea was laid
ready.
| | 19 |
I proceeded to remove Linton's cap, and mantle, and placed him on a
chair by the table; but he was no sooner seated than he began to
cry afresh.
My master inquired what was the matter.
| | 20 |
"I can't sit on a chair," sobbed the boy.
| | 21 |
"Go to the sofa then; and Ellen shall bring you some tea," answered
his uncle, patiently.
| | 22 |
He had been greatly tried during the journey, I felt convinced, by
his fretful, ailing charge.
| | 23 |
Linton slowly trailed himself off, and lay down.
Cathy carried a foot-stool and her cup to his side.
| | 24 |
At first she sat silent; but that could not last; she had resolved
to make a pet of her little cousin, as she would have him to be;
and she commenced stroking his curls, and kissing his cheek, and
offering him tea in her saucer, like a baby.
This pleased him, for he was not much better; he dried his eyes,
and lightened into a faint smile.
| | 25 |
"Oh, he'll do very well," said the master to me, after watching
them a minute.
The company of a child of his own age will instil new spirit into
him soon: and by wishing for strength he'll gain it."
| | 26 |
"Aye, if we can keep him!" I mused to myself; and sore misgivings
came over me that there was slight hope of that.
And then, I thought, however will that weakling live at Wuthering
Heights, between his father and Hareton? what playmates and
instructors they'll be.
| | 27 |
Our doubts were presently decided; even earlier than I expected.
I had just taken the children up stairs, after tea was finished;
and seen Linton asleep -- he would not suffer me to leave him, till
that was the case -- I had come down, and was standing by the table
in the hall, lighting a bedroom candle for Mr Edgar, when a maid
stepped out of the kitchen, and informed me that Mr Heathcliff's
servant, Joseph, was at the door, and wished to speak with the
master.
| | 28 |
"I shall ask him what he wants first," I said, in considerable
trepidation.
"A very unlikely hour to be troubling people, and the instant they
have returned from a long journey.
I don't think the master can see him."
| | 29 |
Joseph had advanced through the kitchen, as I uttered these words,
and now presented himself in the hall.
He was donned in his Sunday garments, with his most sanctimonious
and sourest face; and holding his hat in one hand, and his stick in
the other, he proceeded to clean his shoes on the mat.
| | 30 |
"Good-evening, Joseph," I said, coldly.
"What business brings you here to-night?"
| | 31 |
"It's Maister Linton Aw mun spake tull," he answered, waving me
disdainfully aside.
| | 32 |
"Mr Linton is going to bed; unless you have something particular to
"You had better sit down in there, and entrust your message to me."
| | 33 |
"Which is his rahm?" pursued the fellow, surveying the range of
closed doors.
| | 34 |
I perceived he was bent on refusing my mediation; so very
reluctantly, I went up to the library, and announced the
unseasonable visiter; advising that he should be dismissed till
next day.
| | 35 |
Mr Linton had no time to empower me to do so, for he mounted close
at my heels, and pushing into the apartment, planted himself at the
far side of the table, with his two fists clapped on the head of
his stick, and began in an elevated tone, as if anticipating
opposition.
| | 36 |
"Hathecliff has send me for his lad, un Aw 'munn't goa back 'baht
him."
| | 37 |
Edgar Linton was silent a minute; an expression of exceeding sorrow
overcast his features; he would have pitied the child on his own
account; but, recalling Isabella's hopes and fears, and anxious
wishes for her son, and her commendations of him to his care, he
grieved bitterly at the prospect of yielding him up, and searched
in his heart how it might be avoided.
No plan offered itself: the very exhibition of any desire to keep
him would have rendered the claimant more peremptory: there was
nothing left but to resign him.
However, he was not going to rouse him from his sleep.
| | 38 |
"Tell Mr Heathcliff," he answered, calmly, "that his son shall come
to Wuthering Heights to-morrow.
He is in bed, and too tired to go the distance now.
You may also tell him that the mother of Linton desired him to
remain under my guardianship; and, at present, his health is very
precarious."
| | 39 |
"Noa!" said Joseph, giving a thud with his prop on the
"Noa! that manes nowt -- Hathecliff maks noa 'cahnt uh t' mother,
nur yah norther -- bud he'll hev his lad; und Aw mun tak him -- soa
nah yah knaw!"
| | 40 |
"You shall not to-night!" answered Linton, decisively.
"Walk down stairs at once, and repeat to your master what I have
said.
Ellen, show him down.
Go -- -- "
| | 41 |
And, aiding the indignant elder with a lift by the arm, he rid the
room of him, and closed the door.
| | 42 |
"Varrah weel!" shouted Joseph, as he slowly drew off.
"Tuh morn, he's come hisseln, and thrust him aht, if yah
darr!"
| |
