Wuthering Heights From the story by Emily Bronte

«No, she would not. My son’s property would go to me, but it still suits me to see them married.»

I was very angry with Heathcliff, and afraid for Catherine, but by now we had reached the Heights and it was too late.

Linton was standing in front of the fire.

«Now, who’s that?» asked Mr. Heathcliff, turning to Catherine. «Can you tell?»

«Your son?» she asked doubtfully.

«Yes, yes,» he answered, «but don’t you remember seeing him before? Linton, I’m sure you remember your cousin – you were always asking to see her!»

«What, Linton?» cried Catherine joyfully. «Is that little Linton? He’s taller than I am now! Are you really Linton?»

The boy stepped forward and they both gazed at each other in wonder. Catherine had become a real beauty, sparkling with health and fun, and Linton was tall and graceful-looking, but very pale and thin.

Catherine turned to Heathcliff. «So you must be my uncle! Why don’t you ever visit us at the Grange?»

«I visited it once too often before you were born,» he answered. «Your father and I had a terrible argument, and now he hates me. If you say you’ve been here, he’ll never let you come again.»

«Well, if I’m not allowed here, then Linton can come to the Grange,» said Catherine happily.

«It’ll be too far for me,» whined her cousin. «It would kill me to walk four miles.»

Heathcliff looked scornfully at his son.

«I’m afraid my plan will never work,» he muttered to me. «How could Catherine fall in love with a weakling like him?»

Linton certainly seemed a selfish, feeble boy. He refused to show his cousin around the farm, so Hareton gladly took the job instead.

While Catherine and Hareton were out, and Linton was huddled over the fire, Heathcliff revealed some more of his feelings to me.

«All my life I’ve wanted to have my revenge on Hindley for treating me so badly when I was young. And now I’ve done it. His son Hareton is as rough and sullen as I used to be. Or even worse… because he can’t even read his own name!

«But I can’t help seeing that Hareton is a son to be proud of, while my son is just a weak, moaning baby. But at least Linton is a gentleman. He will be rich and marry Catherine, and then I will enjoy watching him make her wretched. I want to make Edgar’s daughter suffer, and my selfish son will certainly do that job for me.»

While we were talking, Linton had gone to join Catherine and Hareton outside, and I could hear the two younger ones laughing at Hareton for his rough way of talking. As I listened to Linton mocking Hareton, I began to feel less sorry for him and even started to dislike the boy.

The next day, Catherine told her father all about our visit. He was very distressed by the news and warned her tokeep well away from^[78] the Heights. Edgar was afraid that Catherine might be in danger from one of Heathcliff’s plots. But he hated to talk about Heathcliff, so he didn’t explain any of his fears to her. When Catherine begged her father to let her visit Linton, he refused to allow it, and this made her puzzled and upset.

Over the next few weeks, I noticed that Catherine had become very fond of sneaking off into corners to read by herself. She started getting up early and hanging around the kitchen when the milk was being delivered, and she had a drawer full of papers, which she kept locked up all the time.

In the end, I decided I had better find out what was happening. So one day, while Catherine was out, I found a key to open her drawer, and pulled out a pile of letters. I was horrified to see that they were love letters from Linton – shy and embarrassed at first, but then becoming more passionate, and some of them clearly written by Heathcliff. The two cousins had been writing to each other for weeks, and Catherine had been using the milk delivery boy as their messenger.

As soon as I could, I asked Miss Catherine about the letters. She sobbed and sulked, and said that she really loved Linton, but I was not impressed.

«Do you call that love?» I cried scornfully. «I’ve never heard anything so stupid! I might just as well talk of loving the miller who comes once a year to buy our corn. You’ve hardly seen Linton for more than four hours in your life!»

After a lot of argument, Catherine finally agreed not to write any more, and we burned the letters together. The next morning I sent a very different message to young Linton.

I sincerely hoped that this would be the last we heard of Linton.

Heathcliff’s Revenge

That summer, Mr. Edgar caught a bad cold, which developed into pneumonia, and he was forced to stay indoors for most of the winter. Poor Catherine missed her walks with her father, and I could see that she was feeling sad and restless.

One day, we were walking in Thrushcross Park when I noticed she was crying.

«What’s the matter, Miss Catherine?» I asked.

«Oh Nelly, I’m thinking how sad and lonely I’d be if papa dies.»