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'My head aches, till I cannot keep it on the pillow; and still I can't give over. Poor Heathcliff! Hindley calls him a vagabond, and won't let him sit with us, nor eat with us any more; and, he says, he and I must not play together, and threatens to turn him out of the house if we break his orders. I began to nod drowsily over the dim page: my eye wandered from manuscript to print.
You know as well as I do, that for every thought she spends on Linton she spends a thousand on me! At a most miserable period of my life, I had a notion of the kind: it haunted me on my return to the neighbourhood last summer; but only her own assurance could make me admit the horrible idea again. And then, Linton would be nothing, nor Hindley, nor all the dreams that ever I dreamt.
A pleasant suggestion and then, if the surly old man come in, he may believe his prophecy verified we cannot be damper, or colder, in the rain than we are here. I suppose Catherine fulfilled her project, for the next sentence took up another subject: she waxed lachrymose. 'How little did I dream that Hindley would ever make me cry so! she wrote.
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?
"On my inquiring the subject of his thoughts, he answered gravely: "'I'm trying to settle how I shall pay Hindley back. I don't care how long I wait, if I can only do it at last. I hope he will not die before I do! "'For shame, Heathcliff! said I. 'It is for God to punish wicked people. We should learn to forgive. "'No, God won't have the satisfaction that I shall, he returned.
He went up the walk, and entered the house; but, instead of Hindley, Heathcliff appeared on the door-stones; and I turned directly and ran down the road as hard as ever I could race, making no halt till I gained the guide-post, and feeling as scared as if I had raised a goblin.
The love of Catherine Earnshaw was all that he possessed. He knows that he has lost it through the degradation that he owes to Hindley Earnshaw.
Earnshaw died quietly in his chair by the fireside one October evening. Mr. Hindley, who had been to college, came home to the funeral, and set the neighbours gossiping right and left, for he brought a wife with him. What she was and where she was born he never informed us.
She expressed pleasure, too, at finding a sister among her new acquaintance; and she prattled to Catherine, and kissed her, and ran about with her, and gave her quantities of presents, at the beginning. Her affection tired very soon, however, and when she grew peevish, Hindley became tyrannical.
Hindley lifted her from her horse, exclaiming delightedly, 'Why, Cathy, you are quite a beauty! I should scarcely have known you: you look like a lady now. Isabella Linton is not to be compared with her, is she, Frances? 'Isabella has not her natural advantages, replied his wife: 'but she must mind and not grow wild again here.
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