Wuthering Heights by Emily Brontë Read Free Book Online Page B

– Heathcliff married Mr. Linton's sister.«
    »I see the house at Wuthering Heights has ›Earnshaw‹ carved over the front door. Are they an old family?«
    »Very old, sir; and Hareton is the last of them, as our Miss Cathy is of us – I mean, of the Lintons. Have you been to Wuthering Heights? I beg pardon for asking; but I should like to hear how she is!«
    »Mrs. Heathcliff? she looked very well, and very handsome; yet, I think, not very happy.«
    »Oh dear, I don't wonder! And how did you like the master?«
    »A rough fellow, rather, Mrs. Dean. Is not that his character?«
    »Rough as a saw-edge, and hard as whinstone. The less you meddle with him the better.«
    »He must have had some ups and downs in life to make him such a churl. Do you know anything of his history?«
    »It's a cuckoo's, sir – I know all about it; except where he was born, and who were his parents, and how he got his money, at first – And Hareton has been cast out like an unfledged dunnock – The unfortunate lad is the only one, in all this parish, that does not guess how he has been cheated!«
    »Well, Mrs. Dean, it will be a charitable deed to tell me something of my neighbours – I feel I shall not rest, if I go to bed; so, be good enough to sit, and chat an hour.«
    »Oh, certainly, sir! I'll just fetch a little sewing, and then I'll sit as long as you please. But you've caught cold, I saw you shivering, and you must have some gruel to drive it out.«
    The worthy woman bustled off; and I crouched nearer the fire: my head felt hot, and the rest of me chill: moreover I was excited, almost to a pitch of foolishness through my nerves and brain. This caused me to feel, not uncomfortable, but rather fearful, as I am still, of serious effects from the incidents of to-day and yesterday.
    She returned presently, bringing a smoking basin, and a basket of work; and, having placed the former on the hob, drew in her seat, evidently pleased to find me so companionable.
    Before I came to live here, she commenced, waiting no further invitation to her story; I was almost always at Wuthering Heights; because, my mother had nursed Mr. Hindley Earnshaw, that was Hareton's father, and I got used to playing with the children – I ran errands too, and helped to make hay, and hung about the farm ready for anything that anybody would set me to.
    One fine summer morning – it was the beginning of harvest, I remember – Mr. Earnshaw, the old master, came down stairs, dressed for a journey; and, after he had told Joseph what was to be done during the day, he turned to Hindley, and Cathy, and me – for I sat eating my porridge, with them, and he said, speaking to his son,
    »Now my bonny man, I'm going to Liverpool, to-day ... What shall I bring you? You may choose what you like; only let it be little, for I shall walk there and back; sixty miles each way, that is a long spell!«
    Hindley named a fiddle, and then he asked Miss Cathy; she was hardly six years old, but she could ride any horse in the stable, and she chose a whip.
    He did not forget me; for he had a kind heart, though he was rather severe, sometimes. He promised to bring me a pocketful of apples, and pears, and then he kissed his children, good bye, and set off.
    It seemed a long while to us all – the three days of his absence – and often did little Cathy ask when he would be home: Mrs. Earnshaw, expected him by supper-time, on the third evening; and she put the meal off hour after hour; there were no signs of his coming, however, and at last the children got tired of running down to the gate to look – Then it grew dark, she would have had them to bed, but they begged sadly to be allowed to stay up; and, just about eleven o'clock, the door-latch was raised quietly and in stept the master. He threw himself into a chair, laughing and groaning, and bid them all stand off, for he was nearly killed – he would not have such another walk for the three kingdoms.
    »And at the end of it, to be