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Updated: June 18, 2025
The tumult of Wuthering Heights ceases when Heathcliff sickens. It sinks suddenly into the peace and silence of exhaustion. And the drama closes, not in hopeless gloom, the agony of damned souls, but in redemption, reconciliation. Catherine, the child of Catherine and of Edgar Linton, loves Hareton, the child of Hindley Earnshaw.
Earnshaw told her to wash it, give it clean things, and let it sleep with the children. The children's presents were forgotten. This was how Heathcliff, as they called him, came to Wuthering Heights. Miss Cathy and he soon became very thick; but Hindley hated him. He was a patient, sullen child, who would stand blows without winking or shedding a tear.
'I promised mamma that I wouldn't say one word to him, and I didn't. 'Well, don't cry, replied Catherine, contemptuously; 'you're not killed. Don't make more mischief; my brother is coming: be quiet! Hush, Isabella! Has anybody hurt you? 'There, there, children to your seats! cried Hindley, bustling in. 'That brute of a lad has warmed me nicely.
Hindley stands sentinel with a knife and loaded pistol." "Let me in by the kitchen door," he said. "Hindley will be there before me," I answered: "and that's a poor love of yours that cannot bear a shower of snow! We were left at peace in our beds as long as the summer moon shone, but the moment a blast of winter returns, you must run for shelter!
He lets things take their course. He lets Catherine marry Edgar Linton and remain married to him. He lets Isabella's passion satisfy itself. He lets Hindley Earnshaw drink himself to death. He lets Hareton sink to the level of a boor. He lets Linton die. His most overt and violent action is the capture of the younger Catherine.
'You'll keep that? she asked, eagerly. 'No, I'll not promise, I repeated. She was about to insist, when the entrance of Joseph finished our conversation; and Catherine removed her seat to a corner, and nursed Hareton, while I made the supper. After it was cooked, my fellow-servant and I began to quarrel who should carry some to Mr. Hindley; and we didn't settle it till all was nearly cold.
If he had caught me! It's a pity Earnshaw is not his match in strength: I wouldn't have run till I'd seen him all but demolished, had Hindley been able to do it! 'Well, don't talk so fast, Miss! I interrupted; 'you'll disorder the handkerchief I have tied round your face, and make the cut bleed again.
Dean to bring her sewing, and continue the story. This she did, evidently pleased to find me companionable. II. The Story Runs Backward Hindley Earnshaw, that was Hareton's father, and I used to run errands and play with the children. One day, old Mr. Earnshaw, Hareton's grandfather, went to Liverpool, and promised Hindley and Cathy, his son and daughter, to bring each of them a present.
He was relentless in worrying him about his soul's concerns, and about ruling his children rigidly. He encouraged him to regard Hindley as a reprobate; and, night after night, he regularly grumbled out a long string of tales against Heathcliff and Catherine: always minding to flatter Earnshaw's weakness by heaping the heaviest blame on the latter.
They think I'm blind; but I'm noan: nowt ut t' soart! 'Silence, eavesdropper! cried Catherine; 'none of your insolence before me! Edgar Linton came yesterday by chance, Hindley; and it was I who told him to be off: because I knew you would not like to have met him as you were. 'You lie, Cathy, no doubt, answered her brother, 'and you are a confounded simpleton!
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