dows rested longer, and the sunshine was more
transient; and her poor little heart reproached itself for even that
passing forgetfulness of its cares.

We discerned Linton watching at the same spot he had selected before. My
young mistress alighted, and told me that, as she was resolved to stay a
very little while, I had better hold the pony and remain on horseback;
but I dissented: I wouldn't risk losing sight of the charge committed to
me a minute; so we climbed the slope of heath together. Master
Heathcliff received us with greater animation on this occasion: not the
animation of high spirits though, nor yet of joy; it looked more like
fear.

'It is late!' he said, speaking short and with difficulty. 'Is not your
father very ill? I thought you wouldn't come.'

'_Why_ won't you be candid?' cried Catherine, swallowing her greeting.
'Why cannot you say at once you don't want me? It is strange, Linton,
that for the second time you have brought me here on purpose, apparently
to distress us both, and for no reason besides!'

Linton shivered, and glanced at her, half supplicating, half ashamed; but
his cousin's patience was not sufficient to endure this enigmatical
behaviour.

'My father _is_ very ill,' she said; 'and why am I called from his
bedside? Why didn't you send to absolve me from my promise, when you
wished I wouldn't keep it? Come! I desire an explanation: playing and
trifling are completely banished out of my mind; and I can't dance
attendance on your affectations now!'

'My affectations!' he murmured; 'what are they? For heaven's sake,
Catherine, don't look so angry! Despise me as much as you please; I am a
worthless, cowardly wretch: I can't be scorned enough; but I'm too mean
for your anger. Hate my father, and spare me for contempt.'

'Nonsense!' cried Catherine in a passion. 'Foolish, silly boy! And
there! he trembles: as if I were really going to touch him! You needn't
bespeak contempt, Linton: anybody will have it spontaneously at your
service. Get off! I shall return home: it is folly dragging you from
the hearth-stone, and pretending--what do we pretend? Let go my frock!
If I pitied you for crying and looking so very frightened, you should
spurn such pity. Ellen, tell him how disgraceful this conduct is. Rise,
and don't degrade yourself into an abject reptile--_don't_!'

With streaming face and an expression of agony, Linton had thrown his
nerveless frame along the ground: he