Wuthering Heights, Page 21

  CHAPTER XXI

  We had sad work with little Cathy that day: she rose in high glee, eagerto join her cousin, and such passionate tears and lamentations followedthe 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 gethim'; and there were no hopes of that. This promise poorly pacified her;but time was more potent; and though still at intervals she inquired ofher father when Linton would return, before she did see him again hisfeatures had waxed so dim in her memory that she did not recognise him.

  When I chanced to encounter the housekeeper of Wuthering Heights, inpaying business visits to Gimmerton, I used to ask how the young mastergot on; for he lived almost as secluded as Catherine herself, and wasnever to be seen. I could gather from her that he continued in weakhealth, and was a tiresome inmate. She said Mr. Heathcliff seemed todislike him ever longer and worse, though he took some trouble to concealit: he had an antipathy to the sound of his voice, and could not do atall with his sitting in the same room with him many minutes together.There seldom passed much talk between them: Linton learnt his lessons andspent his evenings in a small apartment they called the parlour: or elselay in bed all day: for he was constantly getting coughs, and colds, andaches, and pains of some sort.

  'And I never know such a fainthearted creature,' added the woman; 'norone so careful of hisseln. He _will_ go on, if I leave the window open abit late in the evening. Oh! it's killing, a breath of night air! And hemust have a fire in the middle of summer; and Joseph's bacca-pipe ispoison; 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 thefire, with some toast and water or other slop on the hob to sip at; andif 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 othercrying. I believe the master would relish Earnshaw's thrashing him to amummy, if he were not his son; and I'm certain he would be fit to turnhim out of doors, if he knew half the nursing he gives hisseln. But thenhe won't go into danger of temptation: he never enters the parlour, andshould Linton show those ways in the house where he is, he sends himup-stairs directly.'

  I divined, from this account, that utter lack of sympathy had renderedyoung Heathcliff selfish and disagreeable, if he were not so originally;and my interest in him, consequently, decayed: though still I was movedwith a sense of grief at his lot, and a wish that he had been left withus. Mr. Edgar encouraged me to gain information: he thought a great dealabout him, I fancy, and would have run some risk to see him; and he toldme once to ask the housekeeper whether he ever came into the village? Shesaid he had only been twice, on horseback, accompanying his father; andboth times he pretended to be quite knocked up for three or four daysafterwards. That housekeeper left, if I recollect rightly, two yearsafter he came; and another, whom I did not know, was her successor; shelives there still.

  Time wore on at the Grange in its former pleasant way till Miss Cathyreached sixteen. On the anniversary of her birth we never manifested anysigns of rejoicing, because it was also the anniversary of my latemistress's death. Her father invariably spent that day alone in thelibrary; and walked, at dusk, as far as Gimmerton kirkyard, where hewould frequently prolong his stay beyond midnight. Therefore Catherinewas thrown on her own resources for amusement. This twentieth of Marchwas a beautiful spring day, and when her father had retired, my younglady came down dressed for going out, and said she asked to have a rambleon the edge of the moor with me: Mr. Linton had given her leave, if wewent only a short distance and were back within the hour.

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

  'That must be a good distance up,' I answered; 'they don't breed on theedge 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 ayoung greyhound; and, at first, I found plenty of entertainment inlistening to the larks singing far and near, and enjoying the sweet, warmsunshine; and watching her, my pet and my delight, with her goldenringlets flying loose behind, and her bright cheek, as soft and pure inits 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 shecould not be content.

  'Well,' said I, 'where are your moor-game, Miss Cathy? We should be atthem: 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 youreach the other side I shall have raised the birds.'

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

  Cathy had been caught in the fact of plundering, or, at least, huntingout the nests of the grouse. The Heights were Heathcliff's land, and hewas 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 totake them; but papa told me there were quantities up here, and I wishedto see the eggs.'

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

  'Mr. Linton of Thrushcross Grange,' she replied. 'I thought you did notknow 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 butincreased bulk and strength by the addition of two years to his age: heseemed as awkward and rough as ever.

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

  'No, that man is not my son,' answered Heathcliff, pushing me aside. 'ButI have one, and you have seen him before too; and, though your nurse isin a hurry, I think both you and she would be the better for a littlerest. 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 kindwelcome.'

  I whispered Catherine that she mustn't, on any account, accede to theproposal: 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 hisson. He's mistaken, I think; but I guess where he lives: at thefarmhouse I visited in coming from Penistone Crags. Don't you?'

  'I do. Come, Nelly, hold your tongue--it will be a treat for her to lookin 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 releasemy arm, which he had seized: but she was almost at the door-stonesalready, scampering round the brow at full speed. Her appointedcompanion 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 nogood. And there she'll see Linton, and all will be told as soon as everwe return; and I shall have the blame.'

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

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

  'My design is as honest as possible. I'll inform you of its wholescope,' he said. 'That the two cousins may fall in love, and getmarried. I'm acting generously to your master: his young chit has noexpectations, and should she second my wishes she'll be provided for atonce as joint successor with Linton.'

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

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

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

  Heathcliff bade me be quiet; and, preceding us up the path, hastened toopen the door. My young lady gave him several looks, as if she could notexactly make up her mind what to think of him; but now he smiled when hemet her eye, and softened his voice in addressing her; and I was foolishenough to imagine the memory of her mother might disarm him from desiringher injury. Linton stood on the hearth. He had been out walking in thefields, for his cap was on, and he was calling to Joseph to bring him dryshoes. He had grown tall of his age, still wanting some months ofsixteen. His features were pretty yet, and his eye and complexionbrighter than I remembered them, though with merely temporary lustreborrowed from the salubrious air and genial sun.

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

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

  '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 yourcousin, 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 himfervently, and they gazed with wonder at the change time had wrought inthe appearance of each. Catherine had reached her full height; herfigure was both plump and slender, elastic as steel, and her whole aspectsparkling with health and spirits. Linton's looks and movements werevery languid, and his form extremely slight; but there was a grace in hismanner that mitigated these defects, and rendered him not unpleasing.After exchanging numerous marks of fondness with him, his cousin went toMr. Heathcliff, who lingered by the door, dividing his attention betweenthe objects inside and those that lay without: pretending, that is, toobserve the latter, and really noting the former alone.

  'And you are my uncle, then!' she cried, reaching up to salute him. 'Ithought I liked you, though you were cross at first. Why don't you visitat the Grange with Linton? To live all these years such closeneighbours, 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 herlavish caresses. 'Wicked Ellen! to try to hinder me from entering. ButI'll take this walk every morning in future: may I, uncle? and sometimesbring 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. 'Butstay,' he continued, turning towards the young lady. 'Now I think of it,I'd better tell you. Mr. Linton has a prejudice against me: wequarrelled at one time of our lives, with unchristian ferocity; and, ifyou mention coming here to him, he'll put a veto on your visitsaltogether. Therefore, you must not mention it, unless you be carelessof seeing your cousin hereafter: you may come, if you will, but you mustnot mention it.'

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

  'He thought me too poor to wed his sister,' answered Heathcliff, 'and wasgrieved 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. ButLinton and I have no share in your quarrel. I'll not come here, then; heshall come to the Grange.'

  'It will be too far for me,' murmured her cousin: 'to walk four mileswould kill me. No, come here, Miss Catherine, now and then: not everymorning, 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. 'MissCatherine, as the ninny calls her, will discover his value, and send himto the devil. Now, if it had been Hareton!--Do you know that, twentytimes a day, I covet Hareton, with all his degradation? I'd have lovedthe 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 itselfbriskly. We calculate it will scarcely last till it is eighteen. Oh,confound the vapid thing! He's absorbed in drying his feet, and neverlooks at her.--Linton!'

  'Yes, father,' answered the boy.

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

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

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

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

  'Oh, I'll ask _you_, uncle,' cried Miss Cathy, recollecting thehousekeeper'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 inHeathcliff's ear. He laughed; Hareton darkened: I perceived he was verysensitive to suspected slights, and had obviously a dim notion of hisinferiority. But his master or guardian chased the frown by exclaiming--

  'You'll be the favourite among us, Hareton! She says you are a--What wasit? Well, something very flattering. Here! you go with her round thefarm. And behave like a gentleman, mind! Don't use any bad words; anddon't stare when the young lady is not looking at you, and be ready tohide 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 asnicely as you can.'

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

  'I've tied his tongue,' observed Heathcliff. 'He'll not venture a singlesyllable all the time! Nelly, you recollect me at his age--nay, someyears younger. Did I ever look so stupid: so "gaumless," as Joseph callsit?'

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

  'I've a pleasure in him,' he continued, reflecting aloud. 'He hassatisfied my expectations. If he were a born fool I should not enjoy ithalf so much. But he's no fool; and I can sympathise with all hisfeelings, having felt them myself. I know what he suffers now, forinstance, exactly: it is merely a beginning of what he shall suffer,though. And he'll never be able to emerge from his bathos of coarsenessand ignorance. I've got him faster than his scoundrel of a fathers
ecured me, and lower; for he takes a pride in his brutishness. I'vetaught him to scorn everything extra-animal as silly and weak. Don't youthink Hindley would be proud of his son, if he could see him? almost asproud as I am of mine. But there's this difference; one is gold put tothe use of paving-stones, and the other is tin polished to ape a serviceof silver. _Mine_ has nothing valuable about it; yet I shall have themerit of making it go as far as such poor stuff can go. _His_ hadfirst-rate qualities, and they are lost: rendered worse than unavailing.I have nothing to regret; he would have more than any but I are awareof. And the best of it is, Hareton is damnably fond of me! You'll ownthat I've outmatched Hindley there. If the dead villain could rise fromhis grave to abuse me for his offspring's wrongs, I should have the funof seeing the said offspring fight him back again, indignant that heshould 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, whosat too removed from us to hear what was said, began to evince symptomsof uneasiness, probably repenting that he had denied himself the treat ofCatherine's society for fear of a little fatigue. His father remarkedthe restless glances wandering to the window, and the hand irresolutelyextended 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 unsociableattendant what was that inscription over the door? Hareton stared up, andscratched 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 Iwant 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 youbelieve in the existence of such a colossal dunce?'

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

  Linton repeated his laugh, and glanced at Hareton tauntingly; whocertainly 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 theconsequence of scorning "book-larning," as you would say. Have younoticed, Catherine, his frightful Yorkshire pronunciation?'

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

  'Where is the use of the devil in that sentence?' tittered Linton. 'Papatold you not to say any bad words, and you can't open your mouth withoutone. 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, Iwould; pitiful lath of a crater!' retorted the angry boor, retreating,while his face burnt with mingled rage and mortification! for he wasconscious of being insulted, and embarrassed how to resent it.

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

  We stayed till afternoon: I could not tear Miss Cathy away sooner; buthappily my master had not quitted his apartment, and remained ignorant ofour prolonged absence. As we walked home, I would fain have enlightenedmy charge on the characters of the people we had quitted: but she got itinto 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 thatLinton lived a long way from here. I'm really extremely angry; only I'mso 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 withhim.'

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

  'Papa!' she exclaimed, after the morning's salutations, 'guess whom I sawyesterday, in my walk on the moors. Ah, papa, you started! you've notdone right, have you, now? I saw--but listen, and you shall hear how Ifound you out; and Ellen, who is in league with you, and yet pretended topity me so, when I kept hoping, and was always disappointed aboutLinton's coming back!'

  She gave a faithful account of her excursion and its consequences; and mymaster, though he cast more than one reproachful look at me, said nothingtill she had concluded. Then he drew her to him, and asked if she knewwhy he had concealed Linton's near neighbourhood from her? Could shethink 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?' hesaid. 'No, it was not because I disliked Mr. Heathcliff, but because Mr.Heathcliff dislikes me; and is a most diabolical man, delighting to wrongand ruin those he hates, if they give him the slightest opportunity. Iknew that you could not keep up an acquaintance with your cousin withoutbeing brought into contact with him; and I knew he would detest you on myaccount; so for your own good, and nothing else, I took precautions thatyou should not see Linton again. I meant to explain this some time asyou grew older, and I'm sorry I delayed it.'

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

  My master, perceiving that she would not take his word for heruncle-in-law's evil disposition, gave a hasty sketch of his conduct toIsabella, and the manner in which Wuthering Heights became his property.He could not bear to discourse long upon the topic; for though he spokelittle of it, he still felt the same horror and detestation of hisancient enemy that had occupied his heart ever since Mrs. Linton'sdeath. 'She might have been living yet, if it had not been for him!' washis constant bitter reflection; and, in his eyes, Heathcliff seemed amurderer. Miss Cathy--conversant with no bad deeds except her own slightacts of disobedience, injustice, and passion, arising from hot temperand thoughtlessness, and repented of on the day they were committed--wasamazed at the blackness of spirit that could brood on and cover revengefor years, and deliberately prosecute its plans without a visitation ofremorse. She appeared so deeply impressed and shocked at this new viewof human nature--excluded from all her studies and all her ideas tillnow--that Mr. Edgar deemed it unnecessary to pursue the subject. Hemerely added: 'You will know hereafter, darling, why I wish you to avoidhis 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 aco
uple of hours, according to custom; then she accompanied him into thegrounds, and the whole day passed as usual: but in the evening, when shehad retired to her room, and I went to help her to undress, I found hercrying, on her knees by the bedside.

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

  'I'm not crying for myself, Ellen,' she answered, 'it's for him. Heexpected 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 youhave of him? Hasn't he Hareton for a companion? Not one in a hundredwould weep at losing a relation they had just seen twice, for twoafternoons. Linton will conjecture how it is, and trouble himself nofurther 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 writeto you, and there'd never be an end of it. No, Miss Catherine, theacquaintance must be dropped entirely: so papa expects, and I shall seethat it is done.'

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

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

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

  '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 myhand and a petulant 'cross thing!' I then quitted her again, and shedrew the bolt in one of her worst, most peevish humours. The letter wasfinished and forwarded to its destination by a milk-fetcher who came fromthe village; but that I didn't learn till some time afterwards. Weekspassed on, and Cathy recovered her temper; though she grew wondrous fondof stealing off to corners by herself and often, if I came near hersuddenly while reading, she would start and bend over the book, evidentlydesirous to hide it; and I detected edges of loose paper sticking outbeyond the leaves. She also got a trick of coming down early in themorning and lingering about the kitchen, as if she were expecting thearrival of something; and she had a small drawer in a cabinet in thelibrary, which she would trifle over for hours, and whose key she tookspecial care to remove when she left it.

  One day, as she inspected this drawer, I observed that the playthings andtrinkets which recently formed its contents were transmuted into bits offolded paper. My curiosity and suspicions were roused; I determined totake a peep at her mysterious treasures; so, at night, as soon as she andmy master were safe upstairs, I searched, and readily found among myhouse keys one that would fit the lock. Having opened, I emptied thewhole contents into my apron, and took them with me to examine at leisurein my own chamber. Though I could not but suspect, I was still surprisedto discover that they were a mass of correspondence--daily almost, itmust have been--from Linton Heathcliff: answers to documents forwarded byher. The earlier dated were embarrassed and short; gradually, however,they expanded into copious love-letters, foolish, as the age of thewriter rendered natural, yet with touches here and there which I thoughtwere borrowed from a more experienced source. Some of them struck me assingularly odd compounds of ardour and flatness; commencing in strongfeeling, and concluding in the affected, wordy style that a schoolboymight use to a fancied, incorporeal sweetheart. Whether they satisfiedCathy I don't know; but they appeared very worthless trash to me. Afterturning over as many as I thought proper, I tied them in a handkerchiefand set them aside, relocking the vacant drawer.

  Following her habit, my young lady descended early, and visited thekitchen: I watched her go to the door, on the arrival of a certain littleboy; and, while the dairymaid filled his can, she tucked something intohis jacket pocket, and plucked something out. I went round by thegarden, and laid wait for the messenger; who fought valorously to defendhis trust, and we spilt the milk between us; but I succeeded inabstracting the epistle; and, threatening serious consequences if he didnot look sharp home, I remained under the wall and perused Miss Cathy'saffectionate composition. It was more simple and more eloquent than hercousin's: very pretty and very silly. I shook my head, and wentmeditating into the house. The day being wet, she could not divertherself with rambling about the park; so, at the conclusion of hermorning studies, she resorted to the solace of the drawer. Her fathersat reading at the table; and I, on purpose, had sought a bit of work insome unripped fringes of the window-curtain, keeping my eye steadilyfixed on her proceedings. Never did any bird flying back to a plunderednest, which it had left brimful of chirping young ones, express morecomplete despair, in its anguished cries and flutterings, than she by hersingle '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 thehoard.

  '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 onher knees, when we were enclosed alone. 'Oh, give them to me, and I'llnever, 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 doit 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 inyour leisure hours, to be sure: why, it's good enough to be printed! Andwhat do you suppose the master will think when I display it before him? Ihav'n't shown it yet, but you needn't imagine I shall keep yourridiculous secrets. For shame! and you must have led the way in writingsuch 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'tonce 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 themiller who comes once a year to buy our corn. Pretty loving, indeed! andboth 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; andwe'll see what your father says to such _loving_.'

  She sprang at her precious epistles, but I held them above my head; andthen she poured out further frantic entreaties that I would burn them--doanything rather than show them. And being really fully as much inclinedto laugh as scold--for I esteemed it all girlish vanity--I at lengthrelented in a measure, and asked,--'If I consent to burn them, will youpromise 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 hershame.

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

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

  But when I proceeded to open a place with the poker the sacrifice was toopainful to be borne. She earnestly supplicated that I would spare he
rone or two.

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

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

  'I will have one, you cruel wretch!' she screamed, darting her hand intothe fire, and drawing forth some half-consumed fragments, at the expenseof 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 tofinish the immolation. It was done; I stirred up the ashes, and interredthem under a shovelful of coals; and she mutely, and with a sense ofintense injury, retired to her private apartment. I descended to tell mymaster that the young lady's qualm of sickness was almost gone, but Ijudged it best for her to lie down a while. She wouldn't dine; but shereappeared at tea, pale, and red about the eyes, and marvellously subduedin outward aspect. Next morning I answered the letter by a slip ofpaper, inscribed, 'Master Heathcliff is requested to send no more notesto Miss Linton, as she will not receive them.' And, henceforth, thelittle boy came with vacant pockets.