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1Yesterday afternoon set in misty and cold. I had half a mind to spend it by my study fire, instead of wading through
2heath and mud to Wuthering Heights. On coming up from dinner, however, (N.B.--I dine between twelve and one o'clock; the
3housekeeper, a matronly lady, taken as a fixture along with the house, could not, or would not, comprehend my request
4that I might be served at five)--on mounting the stairs with this lazy intention, and stepping into the room, I saw a
5servant-girl on her knees surrounded by brushes and coal-scuttles, and raising an infernal dust as she extinguished the
6flames with heaps of cinders. This spectacle drove me back immediately; I took my hat, and, after a four-miles' walk,
7arrived at Heathcliff's garden-gate just in time to escape the first feathery flakes of a snow shower. On that bleak
8hill top the earth was hard with a black frost, and the air made me shiver through every limb. Being unable to remove
9the chain, I jumped over, and, running up the flagged causeway bordered with straggling gooseberry-bushes, knocked
10vainly for admittance, till my knuckles tingled and the dogs howled. "Wretched inmates!" I ejaculated, mentally, "you
11deserve perpetual isolation from your species for your churlish inhospitality. At least, I would not keep my doors
12barred in the day-time. I don't care--I will get in!" So resolved, I grasped the latch and shook it vehemently.
13Vinegar-faced Joseph projected his head from a round window of the barn. "What are ye for?" he shouted. "T' maister's
14down i' t' fowld. Go round by th' end o' t' laith, if ye went to spake to him." "Is there nobody inside to open the
15door?" I hallooed, responsively. "There's nobbut t' missis; and shoo'll not oppen 't an ye mak' yer flaysome dins till
16neeght." "Why? Cannot you tell her whom I am, eh, Joseph?" "Nor-ne me! I'll hae no hend wi't," muttered the head,
17vanishing. The snow began to drive thickly. I seized the handle to essay another trial; when a young man without coat,
18and shouldering a pitchfork, appeared in the yard behind. He hailed me to follow him, and, after marching through a
19wash-house, and a paved area containing a coal-shed, pump, and pigeon-cot, we at length arrived in the huge, warm,
20cheerful apartment where I was formerly received. It glowed delightfully in the radiance of an immense fire, compounded
21of coal, peat, and wood; and near the table, laid for a plentiful evening meal, I was pleased to observe the "missis,"
22an individual whose existence I had never previously suspected. I bowed and waited, thinking she would bid me take a
23seat. She looked at me, leaning back in her chair, and remained motionless and mute. "Rough weather!" I remarked. "I'm
24afraid, Mrs. Heathcliff, the door must bear the consequence of your servants' leisure attendance: I had hard work to
25make them hear me." She never opened her mouth. I stared--she stared also: at any rate, she kept her eyes on me in a
26cool, regardless manner, exceedingly embarrassing and disagreeable. "Sit down," said the young man, gruffly. "He'll be
27in soon." I obeyed; and hemmed, and called the villain Juno, who deigned, at this second interview, to move the extreme
28tip of her tail, in token of owning my acquaintance. "A beautiful animal!" I commenced again. "Do you intend parting
29with the little ones, madam?" "They are not mine," said the amiable hostess, more repellingly than Heathcliff himself
30could have replied. "Ah, your favourites are among these?" I continued, turning to an obscure cushion full of something
31like cats. "A strange choice of favourites!" she observed scornfully. Unluckily, it was a heap of dead rabbits. I hemmed
32once more, and drew closer to the hearth, repeating my comment on the wildness of the evening. "You should not have come
33out," she said, rising and reaching from the chimney-piece two of the painted canisters. Her position before was
34sheltered from the light; now, I had a distinct view of her whole figure and countenance. She was slender, and
35apparently scarcely past girlhood: an admirable form, and the most exquisite little face that I have ever had the
36pleasure of beholding; small features, very fair; flaxen ringlets, or rather golden, hanging loose on her delicate neck;
37and eyes, had they been agreeable in expression, that would have been irresistible: fortunately for my susceptible
38heart, the only sentiment they evinced hovered between scorn and a kind of desperation, singularly unnatural to be
39detected there. The canisters were almost out of her reach; I made a motion to aid her; she turned upon me as a miser
40might turn if any one attempted to assist him in counting his gold. "I don't want your help," she snapped; "I can get
41them for myself." "I beg your pardon!" I hastened to reply. "Were you asked to tea?" she demanded, tying an apron over
42her neat black frock, and standing with a spoonful of the leaf poised over the pot. "I shall be glad to have a cup," I
43answered. "Were you asked?" she repeated. "No," I said, half smiling. "You are the proper person to ask me." She flung
44the tea back, spoon and all, and resumed her chair in a pet; her forehead corrugated, and her red under-lip pushed out,
45like a child's ready to cry. Meanwhile, the young man had slung on to his person a decidedly shabby upper garment, and,
46erecting himself before the blaze, looked down on me from the corner of his eyes, for all the world as if there were
47some mortal feud unavenged between us. I began to doubt whether he were a servant or not: his dress and speech were both
48rude, entirely devoid of the superiority observable in Mr. and Mrs. Heathcliff; his thick brown curls were rough and
49uncultivated, his whiskers encroached bearishly over his cheeks, and his hands were embrowned like those of a common
50labourer: still his bearing was free, almost haughty, and he showed none of a domestic's assiduity in attending on the
51lady of the house. In the absence of clear proofs of his condition, I deemed it best to abstain from noticing his
52curious conduct; and, five minutes afterwards, the entrance of Heathcliff relieved me, in some measure, from my
53uncomfortable state. "You see, sir, I am come, according to promise!" I exclaimed, assuming the cheerful; "and I fear I
54shall be weather-bound for half an hour, if you can afford me shelter during that space." "Half an hour?" he said,
55shaking the white flakes from his clothes; "I wonder you should select the thick of a snow-storm to ramble about in. Do
56you know that you run a risk of being lost in the marshes? People familiar with these moors often miss their road on
57such evenings; and I can tell you there is no chance of a change at present." "Perhaps I can get a guide among your
58lads, and he might stay at the Grange till morning--could you spare me one?" "No, I could not." "Oh, indeed! Well, then,
59I must trust to my own sagacity." "Umph!" "Are you going to mak' the tea?" demanded he of the shabby coat, shifting his
60ferocious gaze from me to the young lady. "Is he to have any?" she asked, appealing to Heathcliff. "Get it ready, will
61you?" was the answer, uttered so savagely that I started. The tone in which the words were said revealed a genuine bad
62nature. I no longer felt inclined to call Heathcliff a capital fellow. When the preparations were finished, he invited
63me with--"Now, sir, bring forward your chair." And we all, including the rustic youth, drew round the table: an austere
64silence prevailing while we discussed our meal. I thought, if I had caused the cloud, it was my duty to make an effort
65to dispel it. They could not every day sit so grim and taciturn; and it was impossible, however ill-tempered they might
66be, that the universal scowl they wore was their every-day countenance. "It is strange," I began, in the interval of
67swallowing one cup of tea and receiving another--"it is strange how custom can mould our tastes and ideas: many could
68not imagine the existence of happiness in a life of such complete exile from the world as you spend, Mr. Heathcliff;
69yet, I'll venture to say, that, surrounded by your family, and with your amiable lady as the presiding genius over your
70home and heart--" "My amiable lady!" he interrupted, with an almost diabolical sneer on his face. "Where is she--my
71amiable lady?" "Mrs. Heathcliff, your wife, I mean." "Well, yes--oh, you would intimate that her spirit has taken the
72post of ministering angel, and guards the fortunes of Wuthering Heights, even when her body is gone. Is that it?"
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