Wuthering Heights

and affirmed he could not eat it.
    I saw the old man servant shared largely in his master's scorn of the child, though he was compelled to retain the sentiment in his heart, because Heathcliff plainly meant his underlings to hold him in honour.
    »Cannot ate it?« repeated he, peering in Linton's face, and subduing his voice to a whisper, for fear of being overheard. »But Maister Hareton nivir ate nowt else, when he wer a little un: und what wer gooid eneugh fur him's gooid eneugh fur yah, Aw's rayther think!«
    »I
shan't
eat it!« answered Linton, snappishly. »Take it away.«
    Joseph snatched up the food indignantly, and brought it to us.
    »Is there owt ails th' victuals?« he asked, thrusting the tray under Heathcliff's nose.
    »What should ail them?« he said.
    »Wah!« answered Joseph, »yon dainty chap says he can-nut ate 'em. Bud Aw guess it's raight! His mother wer just soa – we wer a'most too mucky tuh sow t' corn for makking her breead.«
    »Don't mention his mother to me,« said the master, angrily. »Get him something that he can eat, that's all. What is his usual food, Nelly?«
    I suggested boiled milk or tea; and the housekeeper received instructions to prepare some.
    Come, I reflected, his father's selfishness may contribute to his comfort. He perceives his delicate constitution, and the necessity of treating him tolerably. I'll console Mr. Edgar by acquainting him with the turn Heathcliff's humour has taken.
    Having no excuse for lingering longer, I slipped out, while Linton was engaged in timidly rebuffing the advances of a friendly sheep-dog. But he was too much on the alert to be cheated – as I closed the door, I heard a cry, and a frantic repetition of the words –
    »Don't leave me! I'll not stay here! I'll not stay here!«
    Then the latch was raised and fell – they did not suffer him to come forth. I mounted Minny, and urged her to a trot; and so my brief guardianship ended.
     
     
Chapter XXI
    We had sad work with little Cathy that day: she rose in high glee, eager to join her cousin; and such passionate tears and lamentations followed the news of his departure, that Edgar, himself, was obliged to soothe her, by affirming he should come back soon; he added, however, »if I can get him;« and there were no hopes of that.
    This promise poorly pacified her; but time was more potent; and though still, at intervals, she inquired of her father, when Linton would return; before she did see him again, his features had waxed so dim in her memory that she did not recognise him.
    When I chanced to encounter the housekeeper of Wuthering Heights, in paying business-visits to Gimmerton, I used to ask how the young master got on; for he lived almost as secluded as Catherine herself, and was never to be seen. I could gather from her that he continued in weak health, and was a tiresome inmate. She said Mr. Heathcliff seemed to dislike him ever longer and worse, though he took some trouble to conceal it. He had an antipathy to the sound of his voice, and could not do at all with his sitting in the same room with him many minutes together.
    There seldom passed much talk between them; Linton learnt his lessons, and spent his evenings in a small apartment, they called the parlour; or else lay in bed all day; for he was constantly getting coughs, and colds, and aches, and pains of some sort.
    »And I never knew such a faint-hearted creature,« added the woman; »nor one so careful of hisseln. He
will
go on, if I leave the window open, a bit late in the evening. Oh! it's killing, a breath of night air! And he must have a fire in the middle of summer; and Joseph's bacca pipe is poison; and he must always have sweets and dainties, and always milk, milk for ever – heeding naught how the rest of us are pinched in winter – and there he'll sit, wrapped in his furred cloak in his chair by the fire, and some toast and water, or other slop on the hob to sip at; and if Hareton, for pity, comes to amuse him – Hareton is not bad-natured, though he's rough – they're sure to part, one swearing, and the other crying. I believe the master would relish Earnshaw's thrashing him to a mummy, if he were not his son: and, I'm certain, he would be fit to turn him out of doors, if he knew half the nursing he gives hisseln. But then, he won't go into danger of temptation; he never enters the parlour, and should Linton show those ways in the house where he is, he sends him up stairs directly.«
    I divined, from this