Wuthering Heights

you know. He is not tolerably well, as he told me to tell papa, but he's better, very likely.«
    »There you differ with me, Miss Cathy,« I remarked; »I should conjecture him to be far worse.«
    Linton here started from his slumber in bewildered terror, and asked if anyone had called his name.
    »No,« said Catherine; »unless in dreams. I cannot conceive how you manage to dose, out of doors, in the morning.«
    »I thought I heard my father,« he gasped, glancing up to the frowning nab above us. »You are sure nobody spoke?«
    »Quite sure,« replied his cousin. »Only Ellen and I were disputing concerning your health. Are you truly stronger, Linton, than when we separated in winter? If you be, I'm certain one thing is not stronger – your regard for me – speak, are you?«
    The tears gushed from Linton's eyes as he answered –
    »Yes, yes, I am!«
    And, still under the spell of the imaginary voice, his gaze wandered up and down to detect its owner.
    Cathy rose.
    »For to-day we must part,« she said. »And I won't conceal that I have been sadly disappointed with our meeting, though I'll mention it to nobody but you – not that I stand in awe of Mr. Heathcliff!«
    »Hush,« murmured Linton; »for God's sake, hush! He's coming.« And he clung to Catherine's arm, striving to detain her; but, at that announcement, she hastily disengaged herself, and whistled to Minny, who obeyed her like a dog.
    »I'll be here next Thursday,« she cried, springing to the saddle. »Goodbye. Quick, Ellen!«
    And so we left him, scarcely conscious of our departure, so absorbed was he in anticipating his father's approach.
    Before we reached home, Catherine's displeasure softened into a perplexed sensation of pity and regret, largely blended with vague, uneasy doubts about Linton's actual circumstances, physical and social; in which I partook, though I counselled her not to say much, for a second journey would make us better judges.
    My master requested an account of our ongoings: his nephew's offering of thanks was duly delivered, Miss Cathy gently touching on the rest: I also, threw little lights on his inquiries, for I hardly knew what to hide, and what to reveal.
     
     
Chapter XXVII
    Seven days glided away, every one marking its course by the henceforth rapid alteration of Edgar Linton's state. The havoc that months had previously wrought, was now emulated by the inroads of hours.
    Catherine, we would fain have deluded, yet, but her own quick spirit refused to delude her. It divined, in secret, and brooded on the dreadful probability, gradually ripening into certainty.
    She had not the heart to mention her ride, when Thursday came round; I mentioned it for her; and obtained permission to order her out of doors; for the library, where her father stopped a short time daily – the brief period he could bear to sit up, and his chamber had become her whole world. She grudged each moment that did not find her bending over his pillow, or seated by his side. Her countenance grew wan with watching and sorrow, and my master gladly dismissed her to what he flattered himself would be a happy change of scene and society, drawing comfort from the hope that she would not now be left entirely alone after his death.
    He had a fixed idea, I guessed by several observations he let fall, that as his nephew resembled him in person, he would resemble him in mind; for Linton's letters bore few, or no indications of his defective character. And I through pardonable weakness refrained from correcting the error; asking myself what good there would be in disturbing his last moments with information that he had neither power nor opportunity to turn to account.
    We deferred our excursion till the afternoon; a golden afternoon of August – every breath from the hills so full of life, that it seemed whoever respired it, though dying, might revive.
    Catherine's face was just like the landscape – shadows and sunshine flitting over it, in rapid succession; but the shadows rested longer and the sunshine was more transient, and her poor little heart reproached itself for even that passing forgetfulness of its cares.
    We discerned Linton watching at the same spot he had selected before. My young mistress alighted, and told me that as she was resolved to stay a very little while, I had better hold the pony and remain on horseback; but I dissented, I wouldn't risk losing sight of the charge committed to me a minute; so we climbed the slope of heath,