the fellow out of the room--send him into the garret till dinner is over. He'll be cramming his fingers in the tarts and stealing the fruit, if left alone with them a minute.'

`Nay, sir,' I could not avoid answering, `he'll touch nothing, not he: and I suppose he must have his share of the dainties as well as we.'

`He shall have his share of my hand, if I catch him downstairs again till dark,' cried Hindley. `Begone, you vagabond! What! you are attempting the coxcomb, are you? Wait till I get hold of those elegant locks-- see if I won't pull them a bit longer.'

`They are long enough, already,' observed Master Linton, peeping from the doorway; `I wonder they don't make his head ache. It's like a colt's mane over his eyes!'

He ventured his remark without any intention to insult; but Heathcliff's violent nature was not prepared to endure the appearance of impertinence from one whom he seemed to hate, even then, as a rival. He seized a tureen of hot apple sauce (the first thing that came under his gripe) and dashed it full against the speaker's face and neck; who instantly commenced a lament that brought Isabella and Catherine hurrying to the place. Mr Earnshaw snatched up the culprit directly and conveyed him to his chamber; where, doubtless, he administered a rough remedy to cool the fit of passion, for he reappeared red and breathless. I got the dish-cloth and rather spitefully scrubbed Edgar's nose and mouth, affirming it served him right for meddling. His sister began weeping to go home, and Cathy stood by confounded, blushing for all.

`You should not have spoken to him!' she expostulated with Master Linton. `He was in a bad temper, and now you've spoilt your visit; and he'll be flogged: I hate him to be flogged! I can't eat my dinner. Why did you speak to him, Edgar?'

`I didn't,' sobbed the youth, escaping from my hands, and finishing the remainder of the purification with his cambric pocket handkerchief. `I promised mamma that I wouldn't say one word to him, and I didn't.'

`Well, don't cry,' replied Catherine, contemptuously, `you're not killed. Don't make more mischief; my brother is coming: be quiet! Give over, Isabella! Has anybody hurt you?'

`There, there, children--to your seats!' cried Hindley, bustling in. `That brute of a lad has warmed me nicely. Next time, Master Edgar, take the law into your own fists--it will give you an appetite!'

The little party recovered its equanimity at sight of the fragrant feast. They were hungry after their ride, and easily consoled, since no real harm had befallen them. Mr Earnshaw carved bountiful platefuls, and the mistress made them merry with lively talk. I waited behind her chair, and was pained to behold Catherine, with dry eyes and an indifferent air, commence cutting up the wing of a goose before her. `An unfeeling child,' I thought to myself; `how lightly she dismisses her old playmate's troubles. I could not have imagined her to be so selfish.' She lifted a mouthful to her lips; then she set it down again: her cheeks flushed, and the tears gushed over them. She slipped her fork to the floor, and hastily dived under the cloth to conceal her emotion. I did not cal her unfeeling long; for I perceived she was in purgatory through out the day, and wearying to find an opportunity of getting by herself, or paying a visit to Heathcliff, who had been locked up b the master: as I discovered, on endeavouring to introduce to him private mess of victuals.

In the evening we had a dance. Cathy begged that he might b liberated then, as Isabella Linton had no partner; her entreaties were vain, and I was appointed to supply the deficiency. We got rid of all gloom in the excitement of the exercise, and our pleasure was increased by the arrival of the Gimmerton band, mustering fifteen strong: a trumpet, a trombone, clarionets, bassoon French horns, and a bass viol, besides singers. They go the rounds of all the respectable houses, and receive contributions every Christmas, and we esteemed it a first-rate treat to hear them. After the usual carols had been sung, we set them to songs and glees. Mrs Earnshaw loved the music, and so they gave us plenty.