Wuthering Heights From the story by Emily Bronte

I didn’t close my eyes all night, and neither did Mr. Edgar. The next morning, the servants were up much earlier than usual and everyone in the house was busy except Miss Isabella. We were all surprised at how soundly she slept^[60]. But the mystery was solved when a maid came rushing into the room.

«Oh dear, oh dear, sir, whatever will happen next? It’s Miss Isabella…»

«Speak quietly, Mary,» said Edgar calmly. «Now tell me, what’s your news? What is the matter with Miss Isabella?»

«She’s gone, sir, she’s gone! Mr. Heathcliff has run off with her!»

The maid had just come back from Gimmerton, where she’d heard a shocking story. At around midnight the night before, a gentleman and a lady had stopped to have a horse’s shoe fixed a couple of miles outside the village. The blacksmith’s daughter had recognized them both, but she’d waited until the morning to spread her news around the village.

«Should we try to bring them back, sir?» I asked my master.

«No, Nelly,» he answered wearily. «Isabella has the right to go, if that’s what she wanted. Don’t trouble me about her any more. From now on, she is no longer my sister.»

And that was all Edgar said on the subject. He didn’t make any more inquiries, or even mention his sister’s name, but concentrated all his love on Cathy.

Heathcliff and Isabella stayed away for two months and, during that time, Cathy survived the worst of her illness. No mother could have been more devoted to her child than Edgar was to his wife. He watched over her day and night, patiently suffering all her black moods and wild ravings. When, at last, she began to recover, she was very different from the girl we used to know. But Edgar was beside himself with joy that his beloved wife was out of danger.

The first time Cathy left her bedroom was early in March. Edgar placed a handful of crocuses on her pillow and she smiled with pleasure, for the first time in months.

«These are the earliest flowers from the Heights!» she said excitedly. «They remind me of spring winds and sunshine and nearly melted snow. Edgar, has the snow almost gone?»

«Yes, the snow has gone now, my dearest,» he replied. «The sky is blue and the larks are singing. Oh Cathy, I wish I could take you onto the moors. I believe that it would cure you!»

«I shall only be there once more,» said the invalid, «and then you must leave me and I’ll stay there forever. Next spring, you’ll look back and think you were happy today»

Edgar tried to cheer her up with kind words and kisses, but Cathy just let the tears roll down her cheeks.

My master told me to light a fire downstairs and put a chair by the window in the sunshine. Then he carried Cathy downstairs, and she sat for a long while, enjoying the gentle warmth. We began to hope, at last, that she might recover. And there was a double reason for us to be hopeful, because she was expecting a baby in the summer.

At about this time, I received a letter from Miss Isabella, who had returned to Wuthering Heights. It was not at all the sort of letter you might expect to receive from a bride who had only just returned from her honeymoon.

As soon as I’d finished reading Isabella’s letter, I went straight to my master and told him his sister’s news. I asked if I could visit her and send her a sign of his forgiveness, but he wouldn’t give in.

«You can call at Wuthering Heights if you like,» Edgar said sadly, «and tell Isabella that I am not angry, but sorry to have lost her. But I won’t be seeing her again. We are divided forever.»

«Won’t you even write her a note, sir?»

«No, Nelly, I can’t do that. I won’t have anything to do with the Heathcliff family. So far as I’m concerned, it doesn’t exist.»

Mr. Edgar’s coldness depressed me greatly, and all the way across the moors I tried to think of a way to comfort Miss Isabella. As I approached the Heights, I saw her looking out of the window, but when I waved to her, she drew back immediately, as if she was afraid of being seen.

I walked straight into the house without knocking. The place was dismal and dreary compared with the home I had left a couple of years before.

Hindley was out and Hareton was nowhere to be seen, but Heathcliff was sitting at a table, working on some papers. He stood up when I came in and offered me a chair. He was the only thing in the house that looked at all decent, and I thought that he had never looked better. But Isabella did not look good – her dress was dirty and her hair hung down in greasy strands^[61] around her face. Anyone who didn’t know them would have thought that Heathcliff was the master and she was his servant.

Isabella ran forward eagerly to meet me, holding out her hand for a letter from Edgar. I shook my head, but she followed me to the sideboard and started whispering to me. Meanwhile, Heathcliff had seen what was happening.

«Nelly, if you’ve anything for Isabella, give it to her now. We don’t have any secrets here.»