daughter. However, if I am to follow my story in true gossip's
fashion, I had better go on; and instead of leaping three years, I will
be content to pass to the next summer--the summer of 1778, that is nearly
twenty-three years ago.'

CHAPTER VIII

On the morning of a fine June day my first bonny little nursling, and the
last of the ancient Earnshaw stock, was born. We were busy with the hay
in a far-away field, when the girl that usually brought our breakfasts
came running an hour too soon across the meadow and up the lane, calling
me as she ran.

'Oh, such a grand bairn!' she panted out. 'The finest lad that ever
breathed! But the doctor says missis must go: he says she's been in a
consumption these many months. I heard him tell Mr. Hindley: and now she
has nothing to keep her, and she'll be dead before winter. You must come
home directly. You're to nurse it, Nelly: to feed it with sugar and
milk, and take care of it day and night. I wish I were you, because it
will be all yours when there is no missis!'

'But is she very ill?' I asked, flinging down my rake and tying my
bonnet.

'I guess she is; yet she looks bravely,' replied the girl, 'and she talks
as if she thought of living to see it grow a man. She's out of her head
for joy, it's such a beauty! If I were her I'm certain I should not die:
I should get better at the bare sight of it, in spite of Kenneth. I was
fairly mad at him. Dame Archer brought the cherub down to master, in the
house, and his face just began to light up, when the old croaker steps
forward, and says he--"Earnshaw, it's a blessing your wife has been
spared to leave you this son. When she came, I felt convinced we
shouldn't keep her long; and now, I must tell you, the winter will
probably finish her. Don't take on, and fret about it too much: it can't
be helped. And besides, you should have known better than to choose such
a rush of a lass!"'

'And what did the master answer?' I inquired.

'I think he swore: but I didn't mind him, I was straining to see the
bairn,' and she began again to describe it rapturously. I, as zealous as
herself, hurried eagerly home to admire, on my part; though I was very
sad for Hindley's sake. He had room in his heart only for two idols--his
wife and himself: he doted on both, and adored one, and I couldn't
conceive how he would bear the loss.

When we got to Wuthering Heights, there he stood at the front door; and,
as I passed in,