Wuthering Heights HTML version
AS soon as I had perused this epistle, I went to the master, and informed him that his
sister had arrived at the Heights, and sent me a letter expressing her sorrow for Mrs.
Linton's situation, and her ardent desire to see him; with a wish that he would transmit to
her, as early as possible, some token of forgiveness by me.
"Forgiveness!" said Linton. "I have nothing to forgive her, Ellen. You may call at
Wuthering Heights this afternoon, if you like, and say that I am not angry, but I'm sorry
to have lost her; especially as I can never think she'll be happy. It is out of the question
my going to see her, however: we are eternally divided; and should she really wish to
oblige me, let her persuade the villain she has married to leave the country."
"And you won't write her a little note, sir?" I asked imploringly.
"No," he answered. "It is needless. My communication with Heathcliff's family shall be
as sparing as his with mine. It shall not exist!"
Mr. Edgar's coldness depressed me exceedingly; and all the way from the Grange I
puzzled my brains how to put more heart into what he said, when I repeated it; and how
to soften his refusal of even a few lines to console Isabella.
I dare say she had been on the watch for me since morning: I saw her looking through the
lattice, as I came up the garden causeway, and I nodded to her; but she drew back, as if
afraid of being observed.
I entered without knocking. There never was such a dreary, dismal scene as the formerly
cheerful house presented! I must confess, that if I had been in the young lady's place, I
would, at least, have swept the hearth, and wiped the tables with a duster. But she already
partook of the pervading spirit of neglect which encompassed her. Her pretty face was
wan and listless; her hair uncurled: some locks hanging lankly down, and some carelessly
twisted round her head. Probably she had not touched her dress since yester evening.
Hindley was not there. Mr. Heathcliff sat at a table, turning over some papers in his
pocket-book; but he rose when I appeared, asked me how I did, quite friendly, and
offered me a chair.
He was the only thing there that seemed decent: and I thought he never looked better. So
much had circumstances altered their positions, that he would certainly have struck a
stranger as a born and bred gentleman; and his wife as a thorough little slattern!
She came forward eagerly to greet me; and held out one hand to take the expected letter. I
shook my head. She wouldn't understand the hint, but followed me to a sideboard, where