Wuthering Heights

he moved off to open the door, and, as he raised the latch, he looked up to the inscription above, and said, with a stupid mixture of awkwardness, and elation:
    ›Miss Catherine! I can read yon, nah.‹
    ›Wonderful,‹ I exclaimed. ›Pray let us hear you – you
are
grown clever!‹
    He spelt, and drawled over by syllables, the name –
    ›Hareton Earnshaw.‹
    ›And the figures?‹ I cried, encouragingly, perceiving that he came to a dead halt.
    ›I cannot tell them yet,‹ he answered.
    ›Oh, you dunce!‹ I said, laughing heartily at his failure.
    The fool stared, with a grin hovering about his lips, and a scowl gathering over his eyes, as if uncertain whether he might not join in my mirth; whether it were not pleasant familiarity, or what it really was, contempt.
    I settled his doubts by suddenly retrieving my gravity, and desiring him to walk away, for I came to see Linton not him.
    He reddened – I saw that by the moonlight – dropped his hand from the latch, and skulked off, a picture of mortified vanity. He imagined himself to be as accomplished as Linton, I suppose, because he could spell his own name; and was marvellously discomfited that I didn't think the same.«
    »Stop Miss Catherine, dear!« I interrupted. »I shall not scold, but I don't like your conduct there. If you had remembered that Hareton was your cousin, as much as Master Heathcliff, you would have felt how improper it was to behave in that way. At least, it was praiseworthy ambition for him to desire to be as accomplished as Linton: and probably he did not learn merely to show off; you had made him ashamed of his ignorance, before: I have no doubt; and he wished to remedy it and please you. To sneer at his imperfect attempt was very bad breeding – had
you
been brought up in his circumstances, would you be less rude? he was as quick and as intelligent a child as ever you were, and I'm hurt that he should be despised now, because that base Heathcliff has treated him so unjustly.«
    »Well, Ellen, you won't cry about it, will you?« she exclaimed, surprised at my earnestness. »But wait, and you shall hear if he conned his a b c, to please me; and if it were worth while being civil to the brute. I entered, Linton was lying on the settle and half got up to welcome me.
    ›I'm ill to-night, Catherine, love;‹ he said, ›and you must have all the talk, and let me listen. Come, and sit by me – I was sure you wouldn't break your word, and I'll make you promise again, before you go.‹
    I knew now that I mustn't tease him, as he was ill; and I spoke softly and put no questions, and avoided irritating him in any way. I had brought some of my nicest books for him; he asked me to read a little of one, and I was about to comply, when Earnshaw burst the door open, having gathered venom with reflection. He advanced direct to us; seized Linton by the arm, and swung him off the seat.
    ›Get to thy own room!‹ he said, in a voice almost inarticulate with passion, and his face looked swelled and furious. ›Take her there if she comes to see thee – thou shalln't keep me out of this. Begone, wi' ye both!‹
    He swore at us, and left Linton no time to answer, nearly throwing him into the kitchen; and he clenched his fist, as I followed, seemingly longing to knock me down. I was afraid, for a moment, and I let one volume fall; he kicked it after me, and shut us out.
    I heard a malignant, crackly laugh by the fire, and turning beheld that odious Joseph, standing rubbing his bony hands, and quivering.
    ›Aw wer sure he'd sarve ye eht! He's a grand lad! He's getten t' raight sperrit in him!
He
knaws – Aye, he knaws, as weel as Aw do, who sud be t' maister yonder – Ech, ech, ech! He made ye skift properly! Ech, ech, ech!‹
    ›Where must we go?‹ I said to my cousin, disregarding the old wretch's mockery.
    Linton was white and trembling. He was not pretty then – Ellen, Oh! no, he looked frightful! for his thin face, and large eyes were wrought into an expression of frantic, powerless fury. He grasped the handle of the door, and shook it – it was fastened inside.
    ›If you don't let me in I'll kill you; If you don't let me in I'll kill you!‹ he rather shrieked than said. ›Devil! devil! I'll kill you, I'll kill you!‹
    Joseph uttered his croaking laugh again.
    ›Thear, that's t' father!‹ he cried. ›That's father! We've allas summat uh orther side in us – Niver heed Hareton, lad – dunnut be 'feard – he cannot get at