Wuthering Heights

sufficient sustenance for him.
    One night, after the family were in bed, I heard him go down stairs, and out at the front door: I did not hear him re-enter and, in the morning, I found he was still away.
    We were in April then, the weather was sweet and warm, the grass as green as showers and sun could make it, and the two dwarf apple trees, near the southern wall, in full bloom.
    After breakfast, Catherine insisted on my bringing a chair, and sitting, with my work, under the fir-trees, at the end of the house; and she beguiled Hareton, who had perfectly recovered from his accident, to dig and arrange her little garden, which was shifted to that corner by the influence of Joseph's complaints.
    I was comfortably revelling in the spring fragrance around, and the beautiful soft blue overhead, when my young lady, who had run down near the gate, to procure some primrose roots for a border, returned only half laden, and informed us that Mr. Heathcliff was coming in.
    »And he spoke to me,« she added with a perplexed countenance.
    »What did he say?« asked Hareton.
    »He told me to begone as fast as I could,« she answered. »But he looked so different from his usual look that I stopped a moment to stare at him.«
    »How?« he inquired.
    »Why, almost bright and cheerful – No, almost nothing –
very much
excited, and wild and glad!« she replied.
    »Night-walking amuses him, then,« I remarked, affecting a careless manner. In reality, as surprised as she was; and, anxious to ascertain the truth of her statement, for to see the master looking glad would not be an every day spectacle, I framed an excuse to go in.
    Heathcliff stood at the open door; he was pale, and he trembled; yet, certainly, he had a strange joyful glitter in his eyes, that altered the aspect of his whole face.
    »Will you have some breakfast?« I said. »You must be hungry rambling about all night!«
    I wanted to discover where he had been; but I did not like to ask directly.
    »No, I'm not hungry,« he answered, averting his head, and speaking rather contemptuously, as if he guessed I was trying to divine the occasion of his good humour.
    I felt perplexed – I didn't know whether it were not a proper opportunity to offer a bit of admonition.
    »I don't think it right to wander out of doors,« I observed, »instead of being in bed: it is not wise, at any rate, this moist season. I dare say you'll catch a bad cold, or a fever – you have something the matter with you now!«
    »Nothing but what I can bear,« he replied, »and with the greatest pleasure, provided you'll leave me alone – get in, and don't annoy me.«
    I obeyed; and, in passing, I noticed he breathed as fast as a cat.
    »Yes!« I reflected to myself, »we shall have a fit of illness. I cannot conceive what he has been doing!«
    That noon, he sat down to dinner with us, and received a heaped up plate from my hands, as if he intended to make amends for previous fasting.
    »I've neither cold, nor fever, Nelly,« he remarked, in allusion to my morning's speech. »And I'm ready to do justice to the food you give me.«
    He took his knife and fork, and was going to commence eating, when the inclination appeared to become suddenly extinct. He laid them on the table, looked eagerly towards the window, then rose and went out.
    We saw him walking, to and fro, in the garden, while we concluded our meal; and Earnshaw said he'd go, and ask why he would not dine; he thought we had grieved him some way.
    »Well, is he coming?« cried Catherine, when her cousin returned.
    »Nay,« he answered; »but he's not angry; he seemed rare and pleased indeed; only, I made him impatient by speaking to him twice; and then he bid me be off to you; he wondered how I could want the company of any body else.«
    I set his plate, to keep warm, on the fender: and after an hour or two, he re-entered, when the room was clear, in no degree calmer – the same unnatural – it was unnatural – appearance of joy under his black brows; the same bloodless hue: and his teeth visible, now and then, in a kind of smile; his frame shivering, not as one shivers with chill or weakness, but as a tight-stretched cord vibrates – a strong thrilling, rather than trembling.
    I will ask what is the matter, I thought, or who should? And I exclaimed –
    »Have you heard any good news, Mr. Heathcliff? You look uncommonly animated.«
    »Where should good news come from, to me?« he said. »I'm animated with hunger; and, seemingly, I must not