lict; and, though Kenneth remarked that what he saved from the
grave would only recompense his care by forming the source of constant
future anxiety--in fact, that his health and strength were being
sacrificed to preserve a mere ruin of humanity--he knew no limits in
gratitude and joy when Catherine's life was declared out of danger; and
hour after hour he would sit beside her, tracing the gradual return to
bodily health, and flattering his too sanguine hopes with the illusion
that her mind would settle back to its right balance also, and she would
soon be entirely her former self.

The first time she left her chamber was at the commencement of the
following March. Mr. Linton had put on her pillow, in the morning, a
handful of golden crocuses; her eye, long stranger to any gleam of
pleasure, caught them in waking, and shone delighted as she gathered them
eagerly together.

'These are the earliest flowers at the Heights,' she exclaimed. 'They
remind me of soft thaw winds, and warm sunshine, and nearly melted snow.
Edgar, is there not a south wind, and is not the snow almost gone?'

'The snow is quite gone down here, darling,' replied her husband; 'and I
only see two white spots on the whole range of moors: the sky is blue,
and the larks are singing, and the becks and brooks are all brim full.
Catherine, last spring at this time, I was longing to have you under this
roof; now, I wish you were a mile or two up those hills: the air blows so
sweetly, I feel that it would cure you.'

'I shall never be there but once more,' said the invalid; 'and then
you'll leave me, and I shall remain for ever. Next spring you'll long
again to have me under this roof, and you'll look back and think you were
happy to-day.'

Linton lavished on her the kindest caresses, and tried to cheer her by
the fondest words; but, vaguely regarding the flowers, she let the tears
collect on her lashes and stream down her cheeks unheeding. We knew she
was really better, and, therefore, decided that long confinement to a
single place produced much of this despondency, and it might be partially
removed by a change of scene. The master told me to light a fire in the
many-weeks' deserted parlour, and to set an easy-chair in the sunshine by
the window; and then he brought her down, and she sat a long while
enjoying the genial heat, and, as we expected, revived by the objects
round her: which, though familiar, were free from the dreary associations
inves