affection hereafter by the remembrance of what she once was, by common humanity, and a sense of duty!'

`That is quite possible,' remarked Heathcliff, forcing himself to seem calm: `quite possible that your master should have nothing but common humanity and a sense of duty to fall back upon. But do you imagine that I shall leave Catherine to his duty and humanity? and can you compare my feelings respecting Catherine to his? Before you leave this house, I must exact a promise from you, that you'll get me an interview with her: consent or refuse, I will see her! What do you say?'

`I say, Mr Heathcliff,' I replied, `you must not: you never shall, through my means. Another encounter between you and the master would kill her altogether.'

`With your aid, that may be avoided,' he continued; `and should there be danger of such an event--should he be the cause of adding a single trouble more to her existence--why, I think I shall be justified in going to extremes! I wish you had sincerity enough to tell me whether Catherine would suffer greatly from his loss: the fear that she would restrains me. And there you see the distinctions between our feelings: had he been in my place, and I in his, though I hated him with a hatred that turned my life to gall, I never would have raised a hand against him. You may look incredulous, if you please! I never would have banished him from her society as long as she desired his. The moment her regard ceased, I would have torn his heart out, and drunk his blood! But, till then--if you don't believe me, you don't know me-- till then, I would have died by inches before I touched a single hair of his head!'

`And yet,' I interrupted, `you have no scruples in completely ruining all hopes of her perfect restoration, by thrusting yourself into her remembrance now, when she has nearly forgotten you, and involving her in a new tumult of discord and distress.'

`You suppose she has nearly forgotten me?' he said. `Oh, Nelly! you know she has not! You know as well as I do, that for every thought she spends on Linton, she spends a thousand on me! At a most miserable period of my life, I had a notion of the kind: it haunted me on my return to the neighbourhood last summer; but only her own assurance could make me admit the horrible idea again. And then, Linton would be nothing, nor Hindley, nor all the dreams that ever I dreamt. Two words would comprehend my future--death and hell: existence, after losing her, would be hell. Yet I was a fool to fancy for a moment that she valued Edgar Linton's attachment more than mine. If he loved with all the powers of his puny being, he couldn't love as much in eighty years as I could in a day. And Catherine has a heart as deep as I have: the sea could be as readily contained in that horse-trough, as her whole affection be monopolized by him! Tush! He is scarcely a degree dearer to her than her dog, or her horse. It is not in him to be loved like me: how can she love in him what he has not?'

`Catherine and Edgar are as fond of each other as any two people can be,' cried Isabella, with sudden vivacity. `No one has a right to talk in that manner, and I won't hear my brother depreciated in silence!'

`Your brother is wondrous fond of you too, isn't he?' observed Heathcliff scornfully. `He turns you adrift on the world with surprising alacrity.'

`He is not aware of what I suffer,' she replied. `I didn't tell him that.

`You have been telling him something, then: you have written, have you?'

`To say that I was married, I did write--you saw the note. `And nothing since?'

`No.'

`My young lady is looking sadly the worse for her change of condition,' I remarked. `Somebody's love comes short in her case, obviously: whose, I may guess; but, perhaps, I shouldn't say.'