Wuthering Heights

didn't mamma, and he live together as other people do?«
    »He had business to keep him in the north,« I answered; »and your mother's health required her to reside in the south.«
    »And why didn't mamma speak to me about him?« persevered the child. »She often talked of uncle, and I learnt to love him long ago. How am I to love papa? I don't know him.«
    »Oh, all children love their parents,« I said. »Your mother, perhaps, thought you would want to be with him, if she mentioned him often to you. Let us make haste. An early ride on such a beautiful morning is much preferable to an hour's more sleep.«
    »Is
she
to go with us,« he demanded. »The little girl I saw yesterday?«
    »Not now,« replied I.
    »Is uncle?« he continued.
    »No, I shall be your companion there,« I said.
    Linton sank back on his pillow, and fell into a brown study.
    »I won't go without uncle;« he cried at length; »I can't tell where you mean to take me.«
    I attempted to persuade him of the naughtiness of showing reluctance to meet his father: still he obstinately resisted any progress towards dressing; and I had to call for my master's assistance, in coaxing him out of bed.
    The poor thing was finally got off with several delusive assurances that his absence should be short; that Mr. Edgar and Cathy would visit him; and other promises, equally ill-founded, which I invented and reiterated, at intervals, throughout the way.
    The pure heather-scented air, and the bright sunshine, and the gentle canter of Minny relieved his despondency, after a while. He began to put questions concerning his new home, and its inhabitants, with greater interest, and liveliness.
    »Is Wuthering Heights as pleasant a place as Thrush-cross Grange?« he inquired, turning to take a last glance into the valley, whence a light mist mounted, and formed fleecy cloud, on the skirts of the blue.
    »It is not so buried in trees,« I replied, »and it is not quite so large, but you can see the country beautifully, all round; and the air is healthier for you – fresher, and dryer. You will, perhaps, think the building old and dark, at first – though it is a respectable house, the next best in the neighbourhood. And you will have such nice rambles on the moors! Hareton Earnshaw – that is Miss Cathy's other cousin; and so yours in a manner – will show you all the sweetest spots; and you can bring a book in fine weather, and make a green hollow your study; and, now and then, your uncle may join you in a walk; he does, frequently, walk out on the hills.«
    »And what is my father like?« he asked. »Is he as young and handsome as uncle?«
    »He's as young,« said I »but he has black hair, and eyes; and looks sterner, and he is taller and bigger altogether. He'll not seem to you so gentle and kind at first, perhaps, because, it is not his way – still, mind you be frank and cordial with him; and naturally, he'll be fonder of you than any uncle, for you are his own.«
    »Black hair and eyes!« mused Linton. »I can't fancy him. Then I am not like him, am I?«
    »Not much,« I answered ... Not a morsel, I thought: surveying with regret the white complexion, and slim frame of my companion, and his large languid eyes ... his mother's eyes save that, unless a morbid touchiness kindled them, a moment, they had not a vestige of her sparkling spirit.
    »How strange that he should never come to see mama, and me« he murmured. »Has he ever seen me? If he have, I must have been a baby – I remember not a single thing about him!«
    »Why, Master Linton,« said I, »three hundred miles is a great distance: and ten years seem very different in length, to a grown up person, compared with what they do to you. It is probable Mr. Heathcliff proposed going, from summer to summer, but never found a convenient opportunity: and now it is too late – Don't trouble him with questions on the subject: it will disturb him for no good.«
    The boy was fully occupied with his own cogitations for the remainder of the ride, till we halted before the farmhouse garden gate. I watched to catch his impressions in his countenance. He surveyed the carved front, and low-browed lattices; the straggling gooseberry bushes, and crooked firs, with solemn intentness, and then shook his head: his private feelings entirely disapproved of the exterior of his new abode; but he had sense to postpone complaining – there might be compensation within.
    Before he dismounted, I went and opened the door. It was