Chapter IX #2
‘I shall lift him on to the settle,’ I said, ‘and he may roll about as he pleases; we can’t stop to watch him—I hope you are satisfied, Miss Cathy, that you are not the person to benefit him, and that his condition of health is not occasioned by attachment to you.
Now then, there he is! Come away, as soon as he knows there is nobody by to care for his nonsense, he’ll be glad to lie still! ’
She placed a cushion under his head, and offered him some water; he rejected the latter, and tossed uneasily on the former, as if it were a stone, or a block of wood.
She tried to put it more comfortably.
‘I can’t do with that,’ he said, ‘it’s not high enough!’
Catherine brought another to lay above it.
‘That’s too high!’ murmured the provoking thing.
‘How must I arrange it, then?’ she asked despairingly.
He twined himself up to her, as she half knelt by the settle, and converted her shoulder into a support.
‘No, that won’t do!’ I said. ‘You’ll be content with the cushion, Master Heathcliff! Miss has wasted too much time on you, already; we cannot remain five minutes longer.’
‘Yes, yes, we can!’ replied Cathy. ‘He’s good and patient, now—He’s beginning to think I shall have far greater misery than he will, to-night, if I believe he is the worse for my visit; and then, I dare not come again—Tell the truth about it, Linton—for I mustn’t come, if I have hurt you.’
‘You must come, to cure me,’ he answered. ‘You ought to come because you have hurt me—You know you have, extremely! I was not as ill, when you entered, as I am at present—was I?’
‘But you’ve made yourself ill by crying, and being in a passion. I didn’t do it all,’ said his cousin. ‘However, we’ll be friends now. And you want me—you would wish to see me sometimes, really?’
‘I told you, I did!’ he replied impatiently.
‘Sit on the settle and let me lean on your knee—That’s as mama used to do, whole afternoons together—Sit quite still, and don’t talk, but you may sing a song if you can sing, or you may say a nice, long interesting ballad—one of those you promised to teach me, or a story—I’d rather have a ballad, though: begin. ’
Catherine repeated the longest she could remember. The employment pleased both mightily. Linton would have another, and after that another, notwithstanding my strenuous objections; and so, they went on, until the clock struck twelve, and we heard Hareton in the court, returning for his dinner.
‘And to-morrow, Catherine, will you be here to-morrow?’ asked young Heathcliff, holding her frock, as she rose reluctantly.
‘No!’ I answered, ‘nor next day neither.’ She, however, gave a different response, evidently, for his forehead cleared as she stooped and whispered in his ear.
‘You won’t go to-morrow, recollect, Miss!’ I commenced, when we were out of the house. ‘You are not dreaming of it, are you?’
She smiled.
‘Oh, I’ll take good care!’ I continued, ‘I’ll have that lock mended, and you can escape by no way else.’
‘I can get over the wall,’ she said, laughing.
‘The Grange is not a prison, Ellen, and you are not my jailer. And besides, I’m almost seventeen.
I’m a woman—and I’m certain Linton would recover quickly if he had me to look after him—I’m older than he is, you know, and wiser, less childish, am I not?
And he’ll soon do as I direct him with some slight coaxing—He’s a pretty little darling when he’s good.
I’d make such a pet of him, if he were mine—We should never quarrel, should we, after we were used to each other? Don’t you like him, Ellen?’
‘Like him?’ I exclaimed. ‘The worst tempered bit of a sickly slip that ever struggled into its teens! Happily, as Mr Heathcliff conjectured, he’ll not win twenty!
I doubt whether he’ll see spring, indeed—and small loss to his family, whenever he drops off; and lucky it is for us that his father took him—The kinder he was treated, the more tedious and selfish he’d be!
I’m glad you have no chance of having him for a husband, Miss Catherine! ’
My companion waxed serious at hearing this speech—To speak of his death so regardlessly wounded her feelings.
‘He’s younger than I,’ she answered, after a protracted pause of meditation, ‘and he ought to live the longest, he will—he must live as long as I do. He’s as strong now as when he first came into the North, I’m positive of that!
It’s only a cold that ails him, the same as papa has—You say papa will get better, and why shouldn’t he? ’
‘Well, well,’ I cried, ‘after all, we needn’t trouble ourselves; for listen, Miss, and mind, I’ll keep my word—If you attempt going to Wuthering Heights again, with, or without me, I shall inform Mr Linton, and unless he allow it, the intimacy with your cousin must not be revived.’
‘It has been revived!’ muttered Cathy sulkily.
‘Must not be continued, then!’ I said.
‘We’ll see!’ was her reply, and she set off at a gallop, leaving me to toil in the rear.
We both reached home before our dinner-time: my master supposed we had been wandering through the park, and therefore, he demanded no explanation of our absence.
As soon as I entered, I hastened to change my soaked shoes, and stockings; but sitting such a while at the Heights had done the mischief.
On the succeeding morning, I was laid up; and during three weeks I remained incapacitated for attending to my duties—a calamity never experienced prior to that period, and never, I am thankful to say, since.
My little mistress behaved like an angel in coming to wait on me, and cheer my solitude: the confinement brought me exceedingly low—It is wearisome, to a stirring active body—but few have slighter reasons for complaint than I had.
The moment Catherine left Mr Linton’s room, she appeared at my bed-side.
Her day was divided between us; no amusement usurped a minute: she neglected her meals, her studies, and her play; and she was the fondest nurse that ever watched: she must have had a warm heart, when she loved her father so, to give so much to me!
I said her days were divided between us; but the master retired early, and I generally needed nothing after six o’clock, thus the evening was her own.
Poor thing, I never considered what she did with herself after tea.
And though frequently, when she looked in to bid me good night, I remarked a fresh colour in her cheeks, and a pinkness over her slender fingers; instead of fancying the hue borrowed from a cold ride across the moors, I laid it to the charge of a hot fire in the library.