Wuthering Heights

than ever, to behold the transformation of Heathcliff. He had grown a tall, athletic, well-formed man; beside whom, my master seemed quite slender and youth-like. His upright carriage suggested the idea of his having been in the army. His countenance was much older in expression, and decision of feature than Mr. Linton's; it looked intelligent, and retained no marks of former degradation. A half-civilized ferocity lurked yet in the depressed brows, and eyes full of black fire, but it was subdued; and his manner was even dignified, quite divested of roughness though too stern for grace.
    My master's surprise equalled or exceeded mine: he remained for a minute at a loss how to address the ploughboy, as he had called him. Heathcliff dropped his slight hand, and stood looking at him coolly till he chose to speak.
    »Sit down, sir,« he said, at length. »Mrs. Linton, recalling old times, would have me give you a cordial reception, and, of course, I am gratified when anything occurs to please her.«
    »And I also,« answered Heathcliff, »especially if it be anything in which I have a part. I shall stay an hour or two willingly.«
    He took a seat opposite Catherine, who kept her gaze fixed on him as if she feared he would vanish were she to remove it. He did not raise his to her, often; a quick glance now and then sufficed; but it flashed back, each time, more confidently, the undisguised delight he drank from hers.
    They were too much absorbed in their mutual joy to suffer embarrassment; not so Mr. Edgar, he grew pale with pure annoyance, a feeling that reached its climax when his lady rose – and stepping across the rug, seized Heathcliff's hands again, and laughed like one beside herself.
    »I shall think it a dream to-morrow!« she cried. »I shall not be able to believe that I have seen, and touched, and spoken to you once more – and yet, cruel Heathcliff! you don't deserve this welcome. To be absent and silent for three years, and never to think of me!«
    »A little more than you have thought of me!« he murmured. »I heard of your marriage, Cathy, not long since; and, while waiting in the yard below, I meditated this plan – just to have one glimpse of your face – a stare of surprise, perhaps, and pretended pleasure; afterwards settle my score with Hindley; and then prevent the law by doing execution on myself. Your welcome has put these ideas out of my mind; but beware of meeting me with another aspect next time! Nay, you'll not drive me off again – you were really sorry for me, were you? Well, there was cause. I've fought through a bitter life since I last heard your voice, and you must forgive me, for I struggled only for you!«
    »Catherine, unless we are to have cold tea, please to come to the table,« interrupted Linton, striving to preserve his ordinary tone, and a due measure of politeness. »Mr. Heathcliff will have a long walk, wherever he may lodge to-night; and I'm thirsty.«
    She took her post before the urn; and Miss Isabella came, summoned by the bell; then, having handed their chairs forward, I left the room.
    The meal hardly endured ten minutes – Catherine's cup was never filled, she could neither eat, nor drink. Edgar had made a slop in his saucer, and scarcely swallowed a mouthful.
    Their guest did not protract his stay, that evening, above an hour longer. I asked, as he departed, if he went to Gimmerton?
    »No, to Wuthering Heights,« he answered, »Mr. Earnshaw invited me when I called this morning.«
    Mr. Earnshaw invited
him!
and
he
called on Mr. Earnshaw! I pondered this sentence painfully, after he was gone. Is he turning out a bit of a hypocrite, and coming into the country to work mischief under a cloak? I mused – I had a presentiment, in the bottom of my heart, that he had better have remained away.
    About the middle of the night, I was wakened from my first nap by Mrs. Linton gliding into my chamber, taking a seat on my bedside, and pulling me by the hair to rouse me.
    »I cannot rest, Ellen;« she said, by way of apology. »And I want some living creature to keep me company in my happiness! Edgar is sulky, because I am glad of a thing that does not interest him – He refuses to open his mouth, except to utter pettish, silly speeches; and he affirmed I was cruel and selfish for wishing to talk when he was so sick and sleepy. He always contrives to be sick at the least cross! I gave a few sentences of commendation to Heathcliff, and he, either for a headache or a pang of