On the morning of a fine June day, my first bonny little nursling, and
the last of the ancient Earnshaw stock, was born. We were busy with the
hay in a far away field, when the girl that usually brought our breakfasts,
came running an hour too soon, across the meadow and up the lane, calling
me as she ran.
`Oh, such a grand bairn!' she panted out. `The finest lad that
ever breathed! But the doctor says missis must go: he says she's been in
a consumption these many months. I heard him tell Mr Hindley: and now she
has nothing to keep her, and she'll be dead before winter. You must come
home directly. You're to nurse it, Nelly: to feed it with sugar and milk,
and take care of it day and night. I wish I were you, because it will be
all yours when there is no missis!'
`But is she very ill?' I asked, flinging down my rake, and tying
my bonnet.
`I guess she is; yet she looks bravely,' replied the girl, `and
she talks as if she thought of living to see it grow a man. She's out of
her head for joy, it's such a beauty! If I were her, I'm certain I should
not die: I should get better at the bare sight of it, in spite of Kenneth.
I was fairly mad at him. Dame Archer brought the cherub down to master,
in the house, and his face just began to light up, then the old croaker
steps forward, and says he: ``Earnshaw, it's a blessing your wife has been
spared to leave you this son. When she came, I felt convinced we shouldn't
keep her long; and now, I must tell you, the winter will probably finish
her. Don't take on, and fret about it too much! it can't be helped. And
besides, you should have known better than to choose such a rush of a lass!'
`And what did the master answer?' I inquired.
`I think he swore: but I didn't mind him, I was straining to see
the bairn,' and she began again to describe it rapturously. I, as zealous
as herself, hurried eagerly home to admire, on my part; though I was very
sad for Hindley's sake. He had room in his heart only for two idols--his
wife and himself: he doted on both, and adored one, and I couldn't conceive
how he would bear the loss.
When we got to Wuthering Heights, there he stood at the front
door; and, as I passed in, I asked, `How was the baby?'
`Nearly ready to run about, Nell!' he replied, putting on a cheerful
smile.
`And the mistress?' I ventured to inquire; `the doctor says she's--'
`Damn the doctor!' he interrupted, reddening. `Frances is quite
right; she'll be perfectly well by this time next week. Are you going upstairs?
will you tell her that I'll come, if she'll promise not to talk. I left
her because she would not hold her tongue; and she must--tell her Mr Kenneth
says she must be quiet.'
I delivered this message to Mrs Earnshaw; she seemed in flighty
spirits, and replied merrily:
`I hardly spoke a word, Ellen,and there he has gone out twice,
crying. Well, say I promise I won't speak: but that does not bind me not
to laugh at him!'
Poor soul! Till within a week of her death that gay heart never
failed her, and her husband persisted doggedly, nay, furiously, in affirming
her health improved every day. When Kenneth warned him that his medicines
were useless at that stage of the malady, and he needn't put him to further
expense by attending her, he retorted:
`I know you need not--she's well--she does not want any more attendance
from you! She never was in a consumption. It was a fever; and it is gone:
her pulse is as slow as mine now, and her cheek as cool.'
He told his wife the same story, and she seemed to believe him;
but one night, while leaning on his shoulder, in the act of saying she
thought she should be able to get up tomorrow, a fit of coughing took her--a
very slight one--he raised her in his arms; she put her two hands about
his neck, her face changed, and she was dead.
As the girl had anticipated, the child Hareton fell wholly into
my hands. Mr Earnshaw, provided he saw him healthy and never heard him
cry, was contented, as far as regarded him. For himself, he grew desperate:
his sorrow was of that kind that will not lament. He neither wept nor prayed:
he cursed and defied: execrated God and man, and gave himself up to reckless
dissipation. The servants could not bear his tyrannical and evil conduct
long: Joseph and I were the only two that would stay. I had not the heart
to leave my charge; and besides, you know I had been his foster-sister,
and excused his behaviour more readily than a stranger would. Joseph remained
to hector over tenants and labourers; and because it was his vocation to
be where he had plenty of wickedness to reprove.
The master's bad ways and bad companions formed a pretty example
for Catherine and Heathcliff. His treatment of the latter was enough to
make a fiend of a saint. And, truly, it appeared as if the lad were
possessed of something diabolical at that period. He delighted to witness
Hindley degrading himself past redemption; and became daily more notable
for savage sullenness and ferocity. I could not half tell what an infernal
house we had. The curate dropped calling, and nobody decent came near us,
at last; unless Edgar Linton's visits to Miss Cathy might be an exception.
At fifteen she was the queen of the countryside; she had no peer; and she
did turn out a haughty, headstrong creature! I own I did not like her,
after her infancy was past; and I vexed her frequently by trying to bring
down her arrogance: she never took an aversion to me, though. She had a
wondrous constancy to old attachments: even Heathcliff kept his hold on
her affections unalterably; and young Linton, with all his superiority,
found it difficult to make an equally deep impression. He was my late master:
that is his portrait over the fireplace. It used to hang on one side, and
his wife's on the other; but hers has been removed, or else you might see
something of what she was. Can you make that out?
Mrs Dean raised the candle, and I discerned a soft-featured face,
exceedingly resembling the young lady at the Heights, but more pensive
and amiable in expression. It formed a sweet picture. The long light hair
curled slightly on the temples; the eyes were large and serious; the figure
almost too graceful. I did not marvel how Catherine Earnshaw could forget
her first friend for such an individual. I marvelled much how he, with
a mind to correspond with his person, could fancy my idea of Catherine
Earnshaw.
`A very agreeable portrait,' I observed to the housekeeper. `Is
it like?'
`Yes,' she answered; `but he looked better when he was animated;
that is his everyday countenance: he wanted spirit in general.'
Catherine had kept up her acquaintance with the Lintons since
her five weeks' residence among them; and as she had no temptation to show
her rough side in their company, and had the sense to be ashamed of being
rude where she experienced such Invariable courtesy, she imposed unwittingly
on the old lady and gentleman, by her ingenious cordiality; gained the
admiration of Isabella, and the heart and soul of her brother: acquisitions
that flattered her from the first, for she was full of ambition, and led
her to adopt a double character without exactly intending to deceive anyone.
In the place where she heard Heathcliff termed a vulgar young ruffian',
and `worse than a brute', she took care not to act like him; but at home
she had small inclination to practise politeness that would only be laughed
at, and restrain an unruly nature when it would bring her neither credit
nor praise. Mr Edgar seldom mustered courage to visit Wuthering Heights
openly. He had a terror of Earnshaw's reputation, and shrunk from encountering
him; and yet he was always received with our best attempts at civility:
the master himself avoided offending him, knowing why he came; and if he
could not be gracious, kept out of the way. I rather think his appearance
there was distasteful to Catherine: she was not artful, never played the
coquette, and had evidently an objection to her two friends meeting at
all; for when Heathcliff expressed contempt of Linton in his presence,
she could not half coincide, as she did in his absence; and when Linton
evinced disgust and antipathy to Heathcliff, she dared not treat his sentiments
with indifference, as if depreciation of her playmate were of scarcely
any consequence to her. I've had many a laugh at her perplexities and untold
troubles, which she vainly strove to hide from my mockery. That sounds
ill-natured: but she was so proud, it became really impossible to pity
her distresses, till she should be chastened into more humility. She did
bring herself, finally, to confess, and confide in me: there was not a
soul else that she might fashion into an adviser.
Mr Hindley had gone from home one afternoon, and Heathcliff presumed
to give himself a holiday on the strength of it. He had reached the age
of sixteen then, I think, and without having bad features, or being deficient
in intellect, he contrived to convey an impression of inward and outward
repulsiveness that his present aspect retains no traces of. In the first
place, he had by that time lost the benefit of his early education: continual
hard work, begun soon and concluded late, had extinguished any curiosity
he once possessed in pursuit of knowledge, and any love for books or learning.
His childhood's sense of superiority, instilled into him by the favours
of old Mr Earnshaw, was faded away. He struggled long to keep up an equality
with Catherine in her studies, and yielded with poignant though silent
regret: but he yielded completely; and there was no prevailing on him to
take a step in the way of moving upward, when he found he must, necessarily,
sink beneath his former level. Then personal appearance sympathized with
mental deterioration: he acquired a slouching gait, and ignoble look; his
naturally reserved disposition was exaggerated into an almost idiotic excess
of unsociable moroseness; and he took a grim pleasure, apparently, in exciting
the aversion rather than the esteem of his few acquaintance.
Catherine and he were constant companions still at his seasons
of respite from labour; but he had ceased to express his fondness for her
in words, and recoiled with angry suspicion from her girlish caresses,
as if conscious there could be no gratification in lavishing such marks
of affection on him. On the before-named occasion he came into the house
to announce his intention of doing nothing, while I was assisting Miss
Cathy to arrange her dress: she had not reckoned on his taking it into
his head to be idle; and imagining she would have the whole place to herself,
she managed, by some means, to inform Mr Edgar of her brother's absence,
and was then preparing to receive him.
`Cathy, are you busy, this afternoon?' asked Heathcliff. `Are
you going anywhere?'
`No, it is raining,' she answered.
`Why have you that silk frock on, then?' he said. `Nobody coming
here, I hope?'
`Not that I know of,' stammered Miss: `but you should be in the
field now, Heathcliff. It is an hour past dinner time: I thought you were
gone.'
`Hindley does not often free us from his accursed presence,' observed
the boy. `I'll not work any more today: I'll stay with you.'
`Oh, but Joseph will tell,' she suggested; `you'd better go!'
`Joseph is loading lime on the farther side of Pennistow Crag;
it will take him till dark, and he'll never know.'
So saying, he lounged to the fire, and sat down. Catherine reflected
an instant, with knitted brows--she found it needful to smooth the way
for an intrusion. `Isabella and Edgar Linton talked of calling this afternoon,'
she said, at the conclusion of a minute's silence. `As it rains, I hardly
expect them; but they may come, and if they do, you run the risk of being
scolded for no good.'
`Order Ellen to say you are engaged, Cathy,' he persisted; `don't
turn me out for those pitiful, silly friends of yours! I'm on the point,
sometimes, of complaining that they--but I'll not---'
`That they what?' cried Catherine, gazing at him with a troubled
countenance. `Oh, Nelly!' she added petulantly, jerking her head away from
my hands, `you've combed my hair quite out of curl! That's enough; let
me alone. What are you on the point of complaining about, Heathcliff?'
`Nothing--only look at the almanac on that wall;' he pointed to
a framed sheet hanging near the window, and continued--`The crosses are
for the evenings you have spent with the Lintons, the dots for those spent
with me. Do you see? I've marked every day.'
`Yes--very foolish: as if I took notice!' replied Catherine in
a peevish tone. `And where is the sense of that?'
`To show that I do take notice,' said Heathcliff.
`And should I always be sitting with you?' she demanded, growing
more irritated. `What good do I get? What do you talk about? You might
be dumb, or a baby, for anything you say to amuse me, or for anything you
do, either!'
`You never told me before that I talked too little, or that you
disliked my company, Cathy!' exclaimed Heathcliff, in much agitation.
`It's no company at all, when people know nothing and say nothing,'
she muttered.
Her companion rose up, but he hadn't time to express his feelings
further, for a horse's feet were heard on the flags, and having knocked
gently, young Linton entered, his face brilliant with delight at the unexpected
summons he had received. Doubtless Catherine marked the difference between
her friends, as one came in and the other went out. The contrast resembled
what you see in exchanging a bleak, hilly, coal country for a beautiful
fertile valley; and his voice and greeting were as opposite as his aspect.
He had a sweet, low manner of speaking, and pronounced his words
as you do: that's less gruff than we talk here, and softer.
`I'm not come too soon, am I?' he said, casting a look at me:
I had begun to wipe the plate, and tidy some drawers at the far end in
the dresser.
`No,' answered Catherine. `What are you doing there, Nelly?'
`My work, miss,' I replied. (Mr Hindley had given me directions
to make a third parry in any private visits Linton chose to pay.)
She stepped behind me and whispered crossly, `Take yourself and
your dusters off; when company are in the house, servants don't commence
scouring and cleaning in the room where they are!'
`It's a good opportunity, now that the master is away,' I answered
aloud: `he hates me to be fidgeting over these things in his presence.
I'm sure Mr Edgar will excuse me.'
`I hate you to be fidgeting in my presence,' exclaimed
the young lady imperiously, not allowing her guest time to speak: she had
failed to recover her equanimity since the little dispute with Heathcliff.
`I'm sorry for it, Miss Catherine,' was my response; and I proceeded
assiduously with my occupation.
She, supposing Edgar could not see her, snatched the cloth from
my hand, and pinched me, with a prolonged wrench, very spitefully on the
arm. I've said I did not love her, and rather relished mortifying her vanity
now and then: besides, she hurt me extremely; so I started up from my knees,
and screamed out, `Oh, miss, that's a nasty trick! You have no right to
nip me, and I'm not going to bear it.'
`I didn't touch you, you lying creature!' cried she, her fingers
tingling to repeat the act, and her ears red with rage. She never had power
to conceal her passion, it always set her whole complexion in a blaze.
`What's that, then?' I retorted, showing a decided purple witness
to refute her.
She stamped her foot, wavered a moment, and then irresistibly
impelled by the naughty spirit within her, slapped me on the cheek a stinging
blow that filled both eyes with water.
`Catherine, love! Catherine!' interposed Linton, greatly shocked
at the double fault of falsehood and violence which his idol had committed.
`Leave the room, Ellen!' she repeated, trembling all over.
Little Hareton, who followed me everywhere, and was sitting near
me on the floor, at seeing my tears commenced crying himself, and sobbed
out complaints against `wicked aunt Cathy', which drew her fury on to his
unlucky head: she seized his shoulders, and shook him till the poor child
waxed livid, and Edgar thoughtlessly laid hold of her hands to deliver
him. In an instant one was wrung free, and the astonished young man felt
it applied over his own ear in a way that could not be mistaken for jest.
He drew back in consternation. I lifted Hareton in my arms, and walked
off to the kitchen with him, leaving the door of communication open, for
I was curious to watch how they would settle their disagreement. The insulted
visitor moved to the spot where he had laid his hat, pale and with a quivering
lip.
`That's right!' I said to myself. `Take warning and begone! It's
a kindness to let you have a glimpse of her genuine disposition.'
`Where are you going?' demanded Catherine, advancing to the door.
He swerved aside, and attempted to pass.
`You must not go!' she exclaimed energetically.
`I must and shall!' he replied in a subdued voice.
`No,' she persisted, grasping the handle; `not yet, Edgar Linton:
sit down; you shall not leave me in that temper. I should be miserable
all night, and I won't be miserable for you!'
`Can I stay after you have struck me?' asked Linton. Catherine
was mute.
`You've made me afraid and ashamed of you,' he continued; `I'll
not come here again!'
Her eyes began to glisten, and her lids to twinkle. `And you told
a deliberate untruth!' he said.
`I didn't!' she cried, recovering her speech; `I did nothing deliberately.
Well, go, if you please--get away! And now I'll cry--I'll cry myself sick!'
She dropped down on her knees by a chair, and set to weeping in
serious earnest. Edgar persevered in his resolution as far as the court;
there he lingered. I resolved to encourage him.
`Miss is dreadfully wayward, sir,' I called out. `As bad as any
marred child: you'd better be riding home, or else she will be sick only
to grieve us.'
The soft thing looked askance through the window: he possessed
the power to depart, as much as a cat possesses the power to leave a mouse
half killed, or a bird half eaten. Ah, I thought, there will be no saving
him: he's doomed, and flies to his fate! And so it was: he turned abruptly,
hastened into the house again, shut the door behind him; and when I went
in a while after to inform them that Earnshaw had come home rabid drunk,
ready to pull the whole place about our ears (his ordinary frame of mind
in that condition), I saw the quarrel had merely effected a closer intimacy
had broken the outworks of youthful timidity, and enabled them to forsake
the disguise of friendship, and confess themselves lovers.
Intelligence of Mr Hindley's arrival drove Linton speedily to
his horse, and Catherine to her chamber. I went to hide little Hareton,
and to take the shot out of the master's fowling-piece, which he was fond
of playing with in his insane excitement, to the hazard of the lives of
any who provoked, or even attracted his notice too much; and I had hit
upon the plan of removing it, that he might do less mischief if he did
go the length of firing the gun.
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