‘But afterwards—every fine afternoon these many weeks past I have waited and listened. Something here, Cary’ (laying his hand on his breast), ‘told me it was impossible but that you should think of me. Not that I merit thought: but we are old acquaintance, we are cousins.’

‘I came again, Robert; mamma and I came again.’

‘Did you? Come, that is worth hearing; since you came again, we will sit down and talk about it.’

They sat down. Caroline drew her chair up to his. The air was now dark with snow; an Iceland blast was driving it wildly. This pair neither heard the long ‘wuthering’ rush nor saw the white burden it drifted: each seemed conscious but of one thing—the presence of the other.

‘And so mamma and you came again?’

‘And Mrs. Yorke did treat us strangely. We asked to see you. “No,” said she; “not in my house. I am at present responsible for his life; it shall not be forfeited for half an hour’s idle gossip.” But I must not tell you all she said: it was very disagreeable. However, we came yet again—mamma, Miss Keeldar, and I. This time we thought we should conquer, as we were three against one, and Shirley was on our side. But Mrs. Yorke opened such a battery.’

Moore smiled. ‘What did she say?’

‘Things that astonished us. Shirley laughed at last; I cried; mamma was seriously annoyed: we were all three driven from the field. Since that time I have only walked once a day past the house, just for the satisfaction of looking up at your window, which I could distinguish by the drawn curtains. I really dared not come in.’

‘I have wished for you, Caroline.’

‘I did not know that. I never dreamt one instant that you thought of me. If I had but most distantly imagined such a possibility—’

‘Mrs. Yorke would still have beaten you.’

‘She would not. Stratagem should have been tried, if persuasion failed. I would have come to the kitchen- door; the servant should have let me in; and I would have walked straight upstairs. In fact, it was far more the fear of intrusion—the fear of yourself, that baffled me, than the fear of Mrs. Yorke.’

‘Only last night I despaired of ever seeing you again. Weakness has wrought terrible depression in me—terrible depression.’

‘And you sit alone?’

‘Worse than alone.’

‘But you must be getting better, since you can leave your bed?’

‘I doubt whether I shall live. I see nothing for it, after such exhaustion, but decline.’

‘You—you shall go home to the Hollow.’

‘Dreariness would accompany—nothing cheerful come near me.’

‘I will alter this: this shall be altered, were there ten Mrs. Yorkes to do battle with.’

‘Cary, you make me smile.’