Wuthering Heights Emily BrontĂ« (best free novels txt) đ
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- Author: Emily Brontë
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What vain weathercocks we are! I, who had determined to hold myself independent of all social intercourse, and thanked my stars that, at length, I had lighted on a spot where it was next to impracticableâ âI, weak wretch, after maintaining till dusk a struggle with low spirits and solitude, was finally compelled to strike my colours; and under pretence of gaining information concerning the necessities of my establishment, I desired Mrs. Dean, when she brought in supper, to sit down while I ate it; hoping sincerely she would prove a regular gossip, and either rouse me to animation or lull me to sleep by her talk.
âYou have lived here a considerable time,â I commenced; âdid you not say sixteen years?â
âEighteen, sir: I came when the mistress was married, to wait on her; after she died, the master retained me for his housekeeper.â
âIndeed.â
There ensued a pause. She was not a gossip, I feared; unless about her own affairs, and those could hardly interest me. However, having studied for an interval, with a fist on either knee, and a cloud of meditation over her ruddy countenance, she ejaculatedâ ââAh, times are greatly changed since then!â
âYes,â I remarked, âyouâve seen a good many alterations, I suppose?â
âI have: and troubles too,â she said.
âOh, Iâll turn the talk on my landlordâs family!â I thought to myself. âA good subject to start! And that pretty girl-widow, I should like to know her history: whether she be a native of the country, or, as is more probable, an exotic that the surly indigenae will not recognise for kin.â With this intention I asked Mrs. Dean why Heathcliff let Thrushcross Grange, and preferred living in a situation and residence so much inferior. âIs he not rich enough to keep the estate in good order?â I inquired.
âRich, sir!â she returned. âHe has nobody knows what money, and every year it increases. Yes, yes, heâs rich enough to live in a finer house than this: but heâs very nearâ âclose-handed; and, if he had meant to flit to Thrushcross Grange, as soon as he heard of a good tenant he could not have borne to miss the chance of getting a few hundreds more. It is strange people should be so greedy, when they are alone in the world!â
âHe had a son, it seems?â
âYes, he had oneâ âhe is dead.â
âAnd that young lady, Mrs. Heathcliff, is his widow?â
âYes.â
âWhere did she come from originally?â
âWhy, sir, she is my late masterâs daughter: Catherine Linton was her maiden name. I nursed her, poor thing! I did wish Mr. Heathcliff would remove here, and then we might have been together again.â
âWhat! Catherine Linton?â I exclaimed, astonished. But a minuteâs reflection convinced me it was not my ghostly Catherine. âThen,â I continued, âmy predecessorâs name was Linton?â
âIt was.â
âAnd who is that Earnshaw: Hareton Earnshaw, who lives with Mr. Heathcliff? Are they relations?â
âNo; he is the late Mrs. Lintonâs nephew.â
âThe young ladyâs cousin, then?â
âYes; and her husband was her cousin also: one on the motherâs, the other on the fatherâs side: Heathcliff married Mr. Lintonâs sister.â
âI see the house at Wuthering Heights has âEarnshawâ carved over the front door. Are they an old family?â
âVery old, sir; and Hareton is the last of them, as our Miss Cathy is of usâ âI mean, of the Lintons. Have you been to Wuthering Heights? I beg pardon for asking; but I should like to hear how she is!â
âMrs. Heathcliff? she looked very well, and very handsome; yet, I think, not very happy.â
âOh dear, I donât wonder! And how did you like the master?â
âA rough fellow, rather, Mrs. Dean. Is not that his character?â
âRough as a saw-edge, and hard as whinstone! The less you meddle with him the better.â
âHe must have had some ups and downs in life to make him such a churl. Do you know anything of his history?â
âItâs a cuckooâs, sirâ âI know all about it: except where he was born, and who were his parents, and how he got his money at first. And Hareton has been cast out like an unfledged dunnock! The unfortunate lad is the only one in all this parish that does not guess how he has been cheated.â
âWell, Mrs. Dean, it will be a charitable deed to tell me something of my neighbours: I feel I shall not rest if I go to bed; so be good enough to sit and chat an hour.â
âOh, certainly, sir! Iâll just fetch a little sewing, and then Iâll sit as long as you please. But youâve caught cold: I saw you shivering, and you must have some gruel to drive it out.â
The worthy woman bustled off, and I crouched nearer the fire; my head felt hot, and the rest of me chill: moreover, I was excited, almost to a pitch of foolishness, through my nerves and brain. This caused me to feel, not uncomfortable, but rather fearful (as I am still) of serious effects from the incidents of today and yesterday. She returned presently, bringing a smoking basin and a basket of work; and, having placed the former on the hob, drew in her seat, evidently pleased to find me so companionable.
Before I came to live here, she commencedâ âwaiting no farther invitation to her storyâ âI was almost always at Wuthering Heights; because my mother had nursed Mr. Hindley Earnshaw, that was Haretonâs father, and I got used to playing with the children: I ran errands too, and helped to make
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