timent 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
sha'n'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 farm-house, 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 daresay 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
bull-dog from its lair in a corner. 'Now, wilt thou be ganging?'
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