Wuthering Heights

Chapter 25

"Oh, all children love their parents," I said. "Your mother probably thinks that if you think of him often, you'll be clamoring to live with him. Let's hurry up. It's better to go for an early ride on such a beautiful morning than to get an extra hour of sleep." La."

"Is she coming with us too?" he asked. "That girl I saw yesterday?"

"Not now." I replied.

"Where's uncle?" he asked again.

"No, I'll accompany you there." I said.

Linton fell back on his pillow and began to think.

I want to convince him that it's rude to procrastinate and not want to see his father.He still stubbornly refused to get dressed, so I had to wake up my master and help coax him out of bed.

The poor thing is on his way at last, with a few wild wishes in his heart, that he is only going away for a while, that Mr. Edgar and Cathy will visit him, and other lies, which have no basis and no basis. made up.Along the way, I repeated these assurances from time to time.

The fresh heather-scented air, the bright sunshine, and Minnie's small steps soon lifted his gloom.He began to ask questions about his new home, and who was there, with great interest and refreshed spirits.

"Is Wuthering Heights as pleasant a place as Thrushcross Grange?" he asked, turning his head for one last look down the valley, from which a thin mist had risen and formed a fluffy white cloud against the edge of the blue sky.

"It's not as lost in the woods here," I replied, "nor as big as this side, but you can see beautiful country in every direction, and the air is better for your health, fresher and drier. Maybe Well, at first you'd think the building was old and dark, but it's a respectable mansion, the second best in the neighbourhood. You can have a walk on the moor! Hareton Earnshaw, that's Miss Cathy's other cousin, so counting as your cousin, will show you around the best places in this area. In good weather you can take a book and let the shaded valley be yours Besides, your uncle will sometimes come to take a walk with you, and he often walks in this mountain."

"What was my father like?" he asked. "Is he as young and beautiful as uncle?"

"He's just as young," I said, "but he's dark-haired and dark-eyed and stern-looking and taller. Maybe you'll think he's not so gentle at first, because that's not his style. But, Remember to be honest and warm to him, and he will naturally like you more than any of your uncles, because you are his own son."

"Black hair and black eyes!" thought Linton. "I can't imagine him. So I don't look like him, do I?"

"Not at all," I replied... not at all, I thought, looking with regret at my companion's fair skin and thin figure, his large, lifeless eyes, which were his mother's Her eyes, except for the occasional lighting up by some kind of morbid anxiety, did not have her burning and energetic brilliance at all.

"How strange it is that he never comes to see mother and me!" he said to himself. "Has he seen me? If so, I must be a baby, and I don't remember him at all!"

"Well, Master Linton," said I, "three hundred miles is a long way. Ten years is not the same thing for a grown-up man and you. Mr. Heathcliff may well have spent a summer I've been wanting to set off day after summer, but haven't found a convenient opportunity. Now, it's too late—don't bother him with these questions, it's not going to do him any good."

The boy was occupied with his own thoughts for the rest of the journey, until we stopped at the garden gate of the house.I noticed the look on his face.He studied the picture-carved facades, the low-paneled windows, the sprawling gooseberry bushes, the crooked fir-trees, and shook his head.The appearance of the new home disappointed him greatly, but he was still sensible and didn't rush to complain—there might be compensation in the house.

Before he could get off his horse, I stepped forward and opened the door.It was 06:30 and the family had just finished breakfast.The servants were clearing the table, Joseph was standing by his master's chair, talking about a lame horse, and Hareton was getting ready to go to the hayfield.

"Hello, Nelly!" cried Heathcliff when he saw me. "I'm afraid I'll have to go down the mountain myself and get my property back. You brought him, didn't you? Let's see what he's good for."

He stood up and strode to the door.Hareton and Joseph followed closely, curious.I can't close my mouth.Poor Linton, bewildered, glanced at the faces of the three men.

"That's right," Joseph said after careful examination, "He's changing your bag, sir, that's his girl!"

Heathcliff stared at his son so hard that he didn't know why, and shuddered, and then he laughed contemptuously:
"My God, what a beauty! What a lovely, charming thing!" he cried. "Did they feed him snails and yoghurt, Nelly? Oh, my damned soul! But the boy was worse than I thought, and the devil knew I was colorless!"

I dismounted the trembling, bewildered boy, and came into the house.He didn't fully understand the meaning of his father's words, or whether the words were aimed at him.Seriously, he still hadn't confirmed if that horrible cynical stranger was his father.But he trembled more and more and clung to me.Seeing Heathcliff sit down and tell him to "come here," he simply buried his head on my shoulder and began to cry.

"Yes, yes!" said Heathcliff, stretching out one hand, and dragging him abruptly between his knees, and propping his head on his chin. "Don't be so boring! We're not coming to hurt you, Linton—is that your name? You're all your mother's child! Where's my share in you, crybaby?"

He took off the boy's hat, pushed back his thick flaxen curls, and touched his thin arms and his tiny fingers.During this scrutiny, Linton stopped crying, and with his big blue eyes, he also looked at his examiner.

"Do you know me?" asked Heathcliff, already aware that his limbs were equally fragile.

"No!" said Linton, with blank terror in his eyes.

"You've heard of me, dare I say?"

"No!" he replied again.

"No? Your mother is really shameless. She never asked you to show me any filial piety! Then let me tell you that you are my son. Your mother is a vicious bitch who actually told you to know nothing about your father. Now, don't shrink back, don't blush, though you see your blood isn't white after all. Be a good boy, and I'll help you. If you're tired, Nelly, you can sit down. If you're not, Just go home. I reckon you'll tell that bastard at the Grange all you've seen and heard here. And the little thing won't feel at ease if you hang around here."

"Well," replied I, "I hope you'll be kind to the boy, Mr. Heathcliff, or you won't keep him long. He's the only blood relation you'll ever know in the world, remember." Come on."

"I'll be fine with him, you don't have to worry," he said, laughing. "As long as no one else is nice to him. I'm jealous to monopolize his affections. Well, I'll start being nice to him now, Joseph! Bring the boy breakfast. Hareton, you bloody fool, Do your work. Yes, Nelly," he added when they had gone, "my son is the future master of your house. I don't want him to die until I'm sure he's heir. Besides, he is mine, and I will be proud to see my descendants be the masters of their land. My children pay wages to hire their children to plant their father's land. This is my restraint and restraint, tolerating this The only concern of the brat. I despise him for himself and hate him for the memories he brings up! But that's enough to think about. He's still safe and cared for with me Take care, just as your master raises his own children. I made room upstairs, and furnished it beautifully for him. I also hired a teacher, twenty miles away. Come three times a week, I taught him what he would learn. I ordered Hareton to obey him. In fact I had arranged everything. It was only to keep him above those around him, and to maintain his superiority and gentlemanly demeanor. But I I really regret it, he really doesn't deserve to make me worry so much, if I want to say what blessing I am looking forward to in this world, it is to find that he is worthy of my pride, this whining bastard with a white face really disappointed me!"

While he was talking, Joseph came back, brought a basin of porridge with milk, and set it before Linton.With a disgusted look on his face, he stirred up the homely paste, declaring that he couldn't eat it.

I saw that the old servant, too, followed his master, and despised the boy, though he had to keep that feeling to himself, for Heathcliff had clearly admonished his servants to be respectful to him.

"Can't eat?" He said imitatively, looking closely at Linton's face, and for fear of being heard by others, he suppressed his voice as if he was whispering. "But Master Hareton ate all that and nothing else when he was a boy, and you can eat what he eats, I thought!"

"I won't eat!" Linton said impatiently. "Take it back."

In a rage, Joseph snatched the porridge bowl and brought it to us.

"What's so bad about it?" he asked, pushing the basin under Heathcliff's nose.

"What's wrong with this porridge?" he said.

"Wow!" replied Joseph, "your fussy boy says he can't eat it."But I suppose it is so!His mother is also a virtue. We grow grain for her to make bread, but she thinks we are too dirty! "

"Don't tell me about her mother," said the host angrily. "Find him something he can eat, and that's all. What does he usually eat, Nelly?"

I said boiled milk and tea and the housekeeper was ordered to be ready to go.

See, I think, his father's selfishness can make him live more comfortably.He understands that he is weak and needs to be treated kindly.I will tell Mr. Edgar that Heathcliff has lost his temper, and that will give him some relief.

Since there was no excuse for staying any longer, I slipped out, while Linton timidly resisted the friendly gestures of a collie.But he was too vigilant to be deceived.As soon as I closed the door, I heard a cry, repeating these words frantically:

"Don't leave me! I don't want to stay here! I don't want to stay here!"

Then the latch was raised and lowered—they didn't let him chase it out.I mounted the Mini and urged it to a trot, thus ending my brief protective duty.

We had a hard time with little Cathy that day.She rose cheerfully, preoccupied with meeting her cousin.I heard he has left.The wailing, which compelled Edgar himself to come and comfort her, asserted his return soon, and added, "We can get him here if we like," was in fact impossible.

Even this did not satisfy her, time was more patient, though sometimes she had to ask her father when Linton would return, and before she actually saw him again, his features faded from her memory. , so that she did not recognize him.

Occasionally, when I was in Gimmerton on business, I ran into the steward of Wuthering Heights, and I always asked how the young master was, for his life was almost as claustrophobic as Catherine herself, and he had never been seen.From what she said, I could tell that he was still sick and troubled and not easy to take care of.Mr. Heathcliff seemed to dislike him more and more, she said.Although he tried his best not to show the disgust on his face.He resented the sound of his voice and simply couldn't stand being in the same room with him for a few minutes.

There was little talk between the two.Linton spent his evenings reading in a little room they called the parlour, or lying in bed all day, for he was constantly coughing, and cold, and headache, and aching here and there.

"I've never seen such a listless man," the woman went on, "nor such a self-serving man. If I leave the window open later in the evening, he'll babble. Oh! Breathe A mouthful of fresh air at night, that's killing him! In midsummer he'll have a fire, and Joseph's pipe is poison, and he'll always have sweets, always milk, always milk, and don't care about the rest of us How cold he was in winter, he sat in his chair by the fire, wrapped in a fur coat, and there was toast and water, or something to drink, on the hearth. If Hareton, out of pity, would come and play with him —Hareton, though rude, is not a bad nature, and they must have sworn by one, and parted by the other with tears. I believe the master would have let Earnshaw mummify him if he hadn't seen him as his own son. And I'm sure, if he knew half of how he took care of himself, he'd throw him out of the door. But he shunned the danger, he wasn't tempted by it, and he never went into that drawing-room, if Linton was in the house. Meet him anywhere, and he'll send him upstairs right away."

I deduce from this passage that, by being completely cut off from human affection, little Heathcliff has become selfish and obnoxious, if he was not already so.My concern for him has faded because of this. Although I still mourn his fate, it is a pity that we failed to keep him.

Mr. Edgar encouraged me to inquire about the news. I thought he was worried about him, and would rather risk his eyes than take a look at him.Once he asked me to ask the butler if he also came to the lining?
She said he came only twice, on horseback, accompanied by his father.Both times he feigned exhaustion for the next three or four days.

If I remember correctly, the butler left after he had been here for two years.Another one I didn't know took her place and she's still there.

Time flies, Grange is still in the good old days, and then Miss Cathy turns 16.On her birthday, we did not express any joy, because it was also the anniversary of the death of my late mistress.Her father was alone in his study that day, and went out for a walk in the evening, till he came to Gimmerton Cemetery, where he often lingered till well after midnight.Catherine, therefore, had to have her own fun.

March [-]th of this year was a beautiful spring day. After her father went to bed, my young lady got dressed and went downstairs, wanting to go out. She said that she had asked her father to walk with me on the edge of the wilderness. , Mr. Linton promised her that we would be home within an hour, provided we did not go too far.

"Then make haste, Ellen!" she cried. "I know where to go, where a great colony of grouse settles down, and I want to see if they've built their nests."

"That's a long way off," I answered. "They don't lay their eggs on the edge of the moor."

"No, not far," she said. "I went there with my father, and we got very close."

I put on my hat.Go out the door and stop thinking about it.She jumped up and down in front of me, returning to me for a while, and running away again, like a puppy.And at first, too, I was really intrigued, listening to the larks singing near and far, enjoying the warmth and sweetness of the sun, and seeing my little darling, with her golden curls thrown back and her face glowing like The wild rose bloomed so softly and purely, and her eyes shone with bright, bright pleasure.She was such a happy little thing that day, an angel.But she wasn't satisfied yet.

"Well," I said, "where's your grouse, Miss Cathy? We're about to get there. The Grange woodland fence is way back."

"Oh, go a little further, a little further, Ellen," she always answered. "Climb up that hill, and cross that slope, and when you get to the other side of the hill, the birds will come out."

But there's no end to the hill, no end to the hill, and I get tired at last, and tell her we must stop and go back.

I yelled at her because she was way ahead of me.Either she didn't hear it, or she didn't hear it, because she was still jumping forward, and I had no choice but to follow.At last she went down a ravine, and when I saw her again she was two miles closer to Wuthering Heights than to her own home.I saw her seized by two persons, one of whom I judged to be Heathcliff himself.

Cathy had been caught poaching, or at least searching for grouse nests.

The Grange is Heathcliff's land, and he is reprimanding the poachers.

"I didn't catch anything, I didn't find anything," I heard her say as I raced to get there, throwing out my hands to show my honesty. "I didn't intend to catch anything, but my father told me that there are many birds here, and I want to see their eggs."

Heathcliff glanced at me, and with a malicious smile, showing that he knew who it was, and thus that he had a secret in mind, he asked who this "father" was.

"Mr Linton of Thrushcross Grange," she answered. "I suppose you don't know me, or you wouldn't talk like that."

"You think Dad is respected so much, so?" he sneered.

"Who are you?" Catherine asked, staring curiously at the speaker. "I have seen that man before. Is he your son?"

She pointed to Hareton, the other man, who had grown nothing in the past two years except to grow thicker and stronger.His clumsiness and rudeness seemed to be exactly the same as before.

"Miss Cathy," I put in, "we're going away not for an hour, but for three hours now. We really ought to be home."

"No, that's not my son," said Heathcliff, pushing me aside. "But I have a son, and you've seen him before. And, though your nurse is in a hurry to get home, I think it would be better for you both to rest for a while. Would you like to turn around this Briar Hill and come to my house?" Take a break, you can get home earlier, and besides, you will be treated with great hospitality."

I whispered to Catherine that no matter what, she must not accept this invitation, which is completely unnecessary.

(End of this chapter)