I came last night to Wuthering Heights, and heard, for the first time, that Catherine has been, and is yet,
very ill. I must not write to her, I suppose, and my brother is either too angry or too distressed to answer
what I sent him. Still, I must write to somebody, and the only choice left me is you.
Inform Edgar that I'd give the world to see his face again--that my heart returned to Thrushcross Grange
in twenty-four hours after I left it, and is there at this moment, full of warm feelings for him, and Catherine!
I can't follow it, though--(those words are underlined) they need not expect me, and they may draw what
conclusions they please; taking care, however, to lay nothing at the door of my weak will or deficient
The remainder of the letter is for yourself alone. I want to ask you two questions: the first is--How did
you contrive to preserve the common sympathies of human nature when you resided here? I cannot
recognize any sentiment which those around share with me.
The second question, I have great interest in; it is this--Is Mr Heathcliff a man? If so, is he mad? And if
not, is he a devil? I shan't tell my reasons for making this inquiry; but, I beseech you to explain, if you
can, what I have married: that is, when you call to see me; and you must call, Ellen, very soon. Don't
write, but come, and bring me something from Edgar.
Now, you shall hear how I have been received in my new home, as I am led to imagine the Heights
will be. It is to amuse myself that I dwell on such subjects as the lack of external comforts: they never
occupy my thoughts, except at the moment when I miss them. I should laugh and dance for joy, if I
found their absence was the total of my miseries, and the rest was an unnatural dream!
The sun set behind the Grange, as we turned on to the moors; by that, I judged it to be six o'clock; and
my companion halted half an hour, to inspect the park, and the gardens, and, probably, the place itself,
as well as he could; so it was dark when we dismounted in the paved yard of the farmhouse, and your
old fellow-servant, Joseph, issued out to receive us by the light of a dip candle. He did it with a courtesy
that redounded to his credit. His first act was to elevate his torch to a level with my face, squint malignantly,
project his under lip, and turn away. Then he took the two horses, and led them into the stables; reappearing
for the purpose of locking the outer gate, as if we lived in an ancient castle.
Heathcliff stayed to speak to him, and I entered the kitchen--a dingy, untidy hole; I dare say you would
not know it, it is so changed since it was in your charge. By the fire stood a ruffianly child, strong in limb
and dirty in garb, with a look of Catherine in his eyes and about his mouth.
`This is Edgar's legal nephew,' I reflected--`mine in a manner; I must shake hands, and--yes--I must kiss
him. It is right to establish a good understanding at the beginning.'
I approached, and, attempting to take his chubby fist, said: `How do you do, my dear?' He replied in a
jargon I did not comprehend. `Shall you and I be friends, Hareton?' was my next essay at conversation.
An oath, and a threat to set Throttler on me if I did not `frame off', rewarded my perseverance.
`Hey, Throttler, lad!' whispered the little wretch, rousing a half-bred bulldog from its lair in a corner. Now,
wilt tuh be ganging?' he asked authoritatively.
Love for my life urged a compliance; I stepped over the threshold to wait till the others should enter. Mr
Heathcliff was nowhere visible; and Joseph, whom I followed to the stables, and requested to accompany
me in, after staring and muttering to himself, screwed up his nose, and replied:
`Mim! mim! mim! Did iver Christian body hear aught like it? Minching Un' munching! How can Aw tell
whet ye say?'