Wuthering Heights

too angry, or too distressed to answer what I send him. Still, I must write to somebody, and the only choice left me is you.
    Inform Edgar that I'd give the world to see his face again – that my heart returned to Thrushcross Grange in twenty-four hours after I left it, and is there at this moment, full of warm feelings for him and Catherine!
I can't follow it though –
(those words are underlined) – they need not expect me, and they may draw what conclusions they please; taking care however, to lay nothing at the door of my weak will, or deficient affection.
    The remainder of the letter is for yourself alone. I want to ask you two questions: the first is,
    How did you contrive to preserve the common sympathies of human nature when you resided here? I cannot recognize any sentiment which those around, share with me.
    The second question, I have great interest in; it is this –
    Is Mr. Heathcliff a man? If so, is he mad? And if not, is he a devil? I shan't tell my reasons for making this inquiry; but, I beseech you to explain, if you can, what I have married – that is, when you call to see me; and you must call, Ellen, very soon. Don't write, but come, and bring me something from Edgar.
    Now, you shall hear how I have been received in my new home, as I am led to imagine the Heights will be. It is to amuse myself that I dwell on such subjects as the lack of external comforts; they never occupy my thoughts, except at the moment when I miss them – I should laugh and dance for joy, if I found their absence was the total of my miseries, and the rest was an unnatural dream!
    The sun set behind the Grange, as we turned on to the moors; by that, I judged it to be six o'clock; and my companion halted half-an-hour, to inspect the park, and the gardens, and, probably, the place itself, as well as he could; so it was dark when we dismounted in the paved yard of the farmhouse, and your old fellow- servant, Joseph, issued out to receive us by the light of a dip candle. He did it with a courtesy that redounded to his credit. His first act was to elevate his torch to a level with my face, squint malignantly, project his upper lip, and turn away.
    Then he took the two horses, and led them into the stables; reappearing for the purpose of locking the outer gate, as if we lived in an ancient castle.
    Heathcliff stayed to speak to him, and I entered the kitchen – a dingy, untidy hole; I dare say you would not know it, it is so changed since it was in your charge.
    By the fire stood a ruffianly child, strong in limb, and dirty in garb, with a look of Catherine in his eyes, and about his mouth.
    »This is Edgar's legal nephew,« I reflected – »mine in a manner; I must shake hands, and – yes – I must kiss him. It is right to establish a good understanding at the beginning.«
    I approached, and, attempting to take his chubby fist, said –
    »How do you do, my dear?«
    He replied in a jargon I did not comprehend.
    »Shall you and I be friends, Hareton?« was my next essay at conversation.
    An oath, and a threat to set Throttler on me if I did not ›frame off‹ rewarded my perseverance.
    »Hey, Throttler, lad!« whispered the little wretch, rousing a half-bred bull-dog from its lair in a corner. »Now, wilt tuh be ganging?« he asked authoritatively.
    Love for my life urged a compliance; I stepped over the threshold to wait till the others should enter. Mr. Heathcliff was nowhere visible; and Joseph, whom I followed to the stables, and requested to accompany me in, after staring and muttering to himself, screwed up his nose and replied –
    »Mim! mim! mim! Did iver Christian body hear owt like it? Minching un' munching! Hah can aw tell whet ye say?«
    »I say, I wish you to come with me into the house!« I cried, thinking him deaf, yet highly disgusted at his rudeness.
    »Nor nuh me! Aw getten summut else to do,« he answered, and continued his work, moving his lantern jaws meanwhile, and surveying my dress and countenance (the former a great deal too fine, but the latter, I'm sure, as sad as he could desire) with sovereign contempt.
    I walked round the yard, and through a wicket, to another door, at which I took the liberty of knocking, in hopes some more civil servant might show himself.
    After a short suspense it was opened by a tall, gaunt man, without neckerchief, and otherwise extremely slovenly; his features were lost in masses of shaggy hair that hung on his shoulders; and
his
eyes, too, were like a ghostly