Wuthering Heights

station by the window, quite demurely.
    I shook my head reprovingly; and then she blushed, and whispered –
    »Well, what should I have done, Ellen? He wouldn't shake hands, and he wouldn't look – I must show him some way that I like him, that I want to be friends.«
    Whether the kiss convinced Hareton, I cannot tell; he was very careful, for some minutes, that his face should not be seen; and when he did raise it, he was sadly puzzled where to turn his eyes.
    Catherine employed herself in wrapping a handsome book neatly in white paper; and having tied it with a bit of ribband, and addressed it to ›Mr. Hareton Earnshaw,‹ she desired me to be her ambassadress, and convey the present to its destined recipient.
    »And tell him, if he'll take it, I'll come and teach him to read it right,« she said, and, »if he refuse it, I'll go upstairs, and never tease him again.«
    I carried it, and repeated the message, anxiously watched by my employer. Hareton would not open his fingers, so I laid it on his knee. He did not strike it off either. I returned to my work: Catherine leaned her head and arms on the table, till she heard the slight rustle of the covering being removed, then she stole away, and quietly seated herself beside her cousin. He trembled, and his face glowed – all his rudeness, and all his surly harshness had deserted him – he could not summon courage, at first, to utter a syllable, in reply to her questioning look, and her murmured petition.
    »Say you forgive me, Hareton, do! You can make me so happy, by speaking that little word.«
    He muttered something inaudible.
    »And you'll be my friend?« added Catherine interrogatively.
    »Nay! you'll be ashamed of me every day of your life,« he answered. »And the more, the more you know me, and I cannot bide it.«
    »So, you won't be my friend?« she said, smiling as sweet as honey, and creeping close up.
    I overheard no further distinguishable talk; but on looking round again, I perceived two such radiant countenances bent over the page of the accepted book, that I did not doubt the treaty had been ratified, on both sides, and the enemies were, thenceforth, sworn allies.
    The work they studied was full of costly pictures; and those, and their position had charm enough to keep them unmoved, till Joseph came home. He, poor man, was perfectly aghast at the spectacle of Catherine seated on the same bench with Hareton Earnshaw, leaning her hand on his shoulder; and confounded at his favourite's endurance of her proximity. It affected him too deeply to allow an observation on the subject that night. His emotion was only revealed by the immense sighs he drew, as he solemnly spread his large bible on the table, and overlaid it with dirty bank-notes from his pocket-book, the produce of the day's transactions. At length, he summoned Hareton from his seat.
    »Tak' these in tuh t' maister, lad,« he said, »un' bide theare; Aw's gang up tuh my awn rahm. This hoile's norther mensful, nor seemly fur us – we mun side aht, and seearch another!«
    »Come, Catherine,« I said, »we must ›side out,‹ too – I've done my ironing, are you ready to go?«
    »It is not eight o'clock!« she answered, rising unwillingly, »Hareton, I'll leave this book on the chimney-piece, and I'll bring some more to-morrow.«
    »Ony books ut yah leave, Aw shall tak' intuh th' hahse,« said Joseph, »un' it 'ull be mitch if yah find 'em agean; soa, yah muh plase yourseln!«
    Cathy threatened that his library should pay for hers; and, smiling as she passed Hareton, went singing up stairs, lighter of heart, I venture to say, than ever she had been under that roof before; except, perhaps, during her earliest visits to Linton.
    The intimacy, thus commenced, grew rapidly; though it encountered temporary interruptions, Earnshaw was not to be civilized with a wish; and my young lady was no philosopher, and no paragon of patience; but both their minds tending to the same point – one loving and desiring to esteem; and the other loving and desiring to be esteemed – they contrived in the end, to reach it.
    You see, Mr. Lockwood, it was easy enough to win Mrs. Heathcliff's heart; but now, I'm glad you did not try – the crown of all my wishes will be the union of those two; I shall envy no one on their wedding-day – there won't be a happier woman than myself in England!
     
     
Chapter XXXIII
    On the morrow of that Monday, Earnshaw being still unable to follow his ordinary employments, and,