Wuthering Heights(35)
Heathcliff Mr. Heathcliff I should say in future used the liberty of visiting at Thrushcross Grange cautiously, at first: he seemed estimating how far its owner would bear his intrusion. Catherine, also, deemed it judicious to moderate her expressions of pleasure in receiving him; and he gradually established his right to be expected. He retained a great deal of the reserve for which his boyhood was remarkable; and that served to repress all startling demonstrations of feeling. My master’s uneasiness experienced a lull, and further circumstances diverted it into another channel for a space.
His new source of trouble sprang from the not anticipated misfortune of Isabella Linton evincing a sudden and irresistible attraction towards the tolerated guest. She was at that time a charming young lady of eighteen; infantile in manners, though possessed of keen wit, keen feelings, and a keen temper, too, if irritated. Her brother, who loved her tenderly, was appalled at this fantastic preference. Leaving aside the degradation of an alliance with a nameless man, and the possible fact that his property, in default of heirs male, might pass into such a one’s power, he had sense to comprehend Heathcliff’s disposition: to know that, though his exterior was altered, his mind was unchangeable and unchanged. And he dreaded that mind: it revolted him: he shrank forebodingly from the idea of committing Isabella to its keeping. He would have recoiled still more had he been aware that her attachment rose unsolicited, and was bestowed where it awakened no reciprocation of sentiment; 128
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for the minute he discovered its existence he laid the blame on Heathcliff’s deliberate designing.
We had all remarked, during some time, that Miss Linton fretted and pined over something. She grew cross and wearisome; snapping at and teasing Catherine continually, at the imminent risk of exhausting her limited patience. We excused her, to a certain extent, on the plea of ill-health: she was dwindling and fading before our eyes. But one day, when she had been peculiarly wayward, rejecting her breakfast, complaining that the servants did not do what she told them; that the mistress would allow her to be nothing in the house, and Edgar neglected her; that she had caught a cold with the doors being left open, and we let the parlour fire go out on purpose to vex her, with a hundred yet more frivolous accusations, Mrs. Linton peremptorily insisted that she should get to bed; and, having scolded her heartily, threatened to send for the doctor. Mention of Kenneth caused her to exclaim, instantly, that her health was perfect, and it was only Catherine’s harshness which made her unhappy.
‘How can you say I am harsh, you naughty fondling?’
cried the mistress, amazed at the unreasonable assertion.
‘You are surely losing your reason. When have I been hash, tell me?’
‘Yesterday,’ sobbed Isabella, ‘and now!’
‘Yesterday!’ said her sister-in-law. ‘On what occasion?’
‘In our walk along the moor: you told me to ramble where I pleased, while you sauntered on with Mr. Heathcliff?’
‘And that’s your notion of harshness?’ said Catherine, laughing. ‘It was no hint that your company was super-Free eBooks at Planet eBook.com 129
fluous? We didn’t care whether you kept with us or not; I merely thought Heathcliff’s talk would have nothing entertaining for your ears.’
‘Oh, no,’ wept the young lady; ‘you wished me away, because you knew I liked to be there!’
‘Is she sane?’ asked Mrs. Linton, appealing to me. ‘I’ll repeat our conversation, word for word, Isabella; and you point out any charm it could have had for you.’
‘I don’t mind the conversation,’ she answered: ‘I wanted to be with ‘
‘Well?’ said Catherine, perceiving her hesitate to complete the sentence.
‘With him: and I won’t be always sent off!’ she continued, kindling up. ‘You are a dog in the manger, Cathy, and desire no one to be loved but yourself!’
‘You are an impertinent little monkey!’ exclaimed Mrs.
Linton, in surprise. ‘But I’ll not believe this idiotcy! It is impossible that you can covet the admiration of Heathcliff that you consider him an agreeable person! I hope I have misun-derstood you, Isabella?’
‘No, you have not,’ said the infatuated girl. ‘I love him more than ever you loved Edgar, and he might love me, if you would let him!’
‘I wouldn’t be you for a kingdom, then!’ Catherine declared, emphatically: and she seemed to speak sincerely.
‘Nelly, help me to convince her of her madness. Tell her what Heathcliff is: an unreclaimed creature, without refinement, without cultivation; an arid wilderness of furze and whinstone. I’d as soon put that little canary into the park 130
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on a winter’s day, as recommend you to bestow your heart on him! It is deplorable ignorance of his character, child, and nothing else, which makes that dream enter your head.
Pray, don’t imagine that he conceals depths of benevolence and affection beneath a stern exterior! He’s not a rough di-amond a pearl-containing oyster of a rustic: he’s a fierce, pitiless, wolfish man. I never say to him, ‘Let this or that enemy alone, because it would be ungenerous or cruel to harm them;’ I say, ‘Let them alone, because I should hate them to be wronged:’ and he’d crush you like a sparrow’s egg, Isabella, if he found you a troublesome charge. I know he couldn’t love a Linton; and yet he’d be quite capable of marrying your fortune and expectations: avarice is growing with him a besetting sin. There’s my picture: and I’m his friend so much so, that had he thought seriously to catch you, I should, perhaps, have held my tongue, and let you fall into his trap.’