istance from the Grange,' I replied; 'just beyond
those hills: not so far, but you may walk over here when you get hearty.
And you should be glad to go home, and to see him. You must try to love
him, as you did your mother, and then he will love you.'

'But why have I not heard of him before?' asked Linton. 'Why didn't
mamma and he live together, as other people do?'

'He had business to keep him in the north,' I answered, 'and your
mother's health required her to reside in the south.'

'And why didn't mamma speak to me about him?' persevered the child. 'She
often talked of uncle, and I learnt to love him long ago. How am I to
love papa? I don't know him.'

'Oh, all children love their parents,' I said. 'Your mother, perhaps,
thought you would want to be with him if she mentioned him often to you.
Let us make haste. An early ride on such a beautiful morning is much
preferable to an hour's more sleep.'

'Is _she_ to go with us,' he demanded, 'the little girl I saw yesterday?'

'Not now,' replied I.

'Is uncle?' he continued.

'No, I shall be your companion there,' I said.

Linton sank back on his pillow and fell into a brown study.

'I won't go without uncle,' he cried at length: 'I can't tell where you
mean to take me.'

I attempted to persuade him of the naughtiness of showing reluctance to
meet his father; still he obstinately resisted any progress towards
dressing, and I had to call for my master's assistance in coaxing him out
of bed. The poor thing was finally got off, with several delusive
assurances that his absence should be short: that Mr. Edgar and Cathy
would visit him, and other promises, equally ill-founded, which I
invented and reiterated at intervals throughout the way. The pure
heather-scented air, the bright sunshine, and the gentle canter of Minny,
relieved his despondency after a while. He began to put questions
concerning his new home, and its inhabitants, with greater interest and
liveliness.

'Is Wuthering Heights as pleasant a place as Thrushcross Grange?' he
inquired, turning to take a last glance into the valley, whence a light
mist mounted and formed a fleecy cloud on the skirts of the blue.

'It is not so buried in trees,' I replied, 'and it is not quite so large,
but you can see the country beautifully all round; and the air is
healthier for you--fresher and drier. You will, perhaps, think the
building old and dark at first; though it is a respectable house: the
nex