Wuthering Heights

nor however culpably he behaved. It gave Joseph satisfaction, apparently, to watch him go the worst lengths. He allowed that he was ruined; that his soul was abandoned to perdition; but then, he reflected that Heathcliff must answer for it. Hareton's blood would be required at his hands; and there lay immense consolation in that thought.
    Joseph had instilled into him a pride of name, and of his lineage; he would had he dared, have fostered hate between him and the present owner of the Heights, but his dread of that owner amounted to superstition; and he confined his feelings, regarding him, to muttered inuendos and private comminations.
    I don't pretend to be intimately acquainted with the mode of living customary in those days, at Wuthering Heights. I only speak from hearsay; for I saw little. The villagers affirmed Mr. Heathcliff was
near,
and a cruel hard landlord to his tenants; but the house, inside, had regained its ancient aspect of comfort under female management; and the scenes of riot common in Hindley's time, were not now enacted within its walls. The master was too gloomy to seek companionship with any people, good or bad, and he is yet –
    This, however, is not making progress with my story. Miss Cathy rejected the peace-offering of the terrier, and demanded her own dogs, Charlie and Phenix. They came limping, and hanging their heads; and we set out for home, sadly out of sorts, every one of us.
    I could not wring from my little lady how she had spent the day; except that, as I supposed, the goal of her pilgrimage was Penistone Crags; and she arrived without adventure to the gate of the farmhouse, when Hareton happened to issue forth, attended by some canine followers who attacked her train.
    They had a smart battle, before their owners could separate them: that formed an introduction. Catherine told Hareton who she was, and where she was going; and asked him to show her the way; finally, beguiling him to accompany her.
    He opened the mysteries of the Fairy cave, and twenty other queer places; but being in disgrace, I was not favoured with the description of the interesting objects she saw.
    I could gather however, that her guide had been a favourite till she hurt his feelings by addressing him as a servant, and Heathcliff's housekeeper hurt hers, by calling him her cousin.
    Then the language he had held to her rankled in her heart; she who was always ›love,‹ and ›darling,‹ and ›queen,‹ and ›angel,‹ with everybody at the Grange; to be insulted so shockingly by a stranger! She did not comprehend it; and hard work I had, to obtain a promise that she would not lay the grievance before her father.
    I explained how he objected to the whole household at the Heights, and how sorry he would be to find she had been there; but, I insisted most on the fact, that if she revealed my negligence of his orders, he would perhaps, be so angry that I should have to leave; and Cathy couldn't bear that prospect: she pledged her word, and kept it, for my sake – after all, she was a sweet little girl.
     
     
Chapter XIX
    A letter, edged with black, announced the day of my master's return. Isabella was dead; and he wrote to bid me get mourning for his daughter, and arrange a room, and other accommodations, for his youthful nephew.
    Catherine ran wild with joy at the idea of welcoming her father back: and indulged most sanguine anticipations of the innumerable excellencies of her ›real‹ cousin.
    The evening of their expected arrival came. Since early morning, she had been busy, ordering her own small affairs; and now, attired in her new black frock – poor thing! her aunt's death impressed her with no definite sorrow – she obliged me, by constant worrying, to walk with her, down through the grounds, to meet them.
    »Linton is just six months younger than I am,« she chattered as we strolled leisurely over the swells and hollows of mossy turf, under shadow of the trees. »How delightful it will be to have him for a playfellow! Aunt Isabella sent papa a beautiful lock of his hair; it was lighter than mine – more flaxen, and quite as fine. I have it carefully preserved in a little glass box; and I've often thought what pleasure it would be to see its owner – Oh! I am happy – and papa, dear, dear papa! come, Ellen, let us run! come run.«
    She ran, and returned and ran again, many times before my sober footsteps reached the gate, and then she seated herself on the grassy bank beside the path, and