dies; and her face--it was lucky he could not see her face, or he
would never have been so steady. I could; and I bit my lip in spite, at
having thrown away the chance I might have had of doing something besides
staring at its smiting beauty.

The task was done, not free from further blunders; but the pupil claimed
a reward, and received at least five kisses; which, however, he
generously returned. Then they came to the door, and from their
conversation I judged they were about to issue out and have a walk on the
moors. I supposed I should be condemned in Hareton Earnshaw's heart, if
not by his mouth, to the lowest pit in the infernal regions if I showed
my unfortunate person in his neighbourhood then; and feeling very mean
and malignant, I skulked round to seek refuge in the kitchen. There was
unobstructed admittance on that side also; and at the door sat my old
friend Nelly Dean, sewing and singing a song; which was often interrupted
from within by harsh words of scorn and intolerance, uttered in far from
musical accents.

'I'd rayther, by th' haulf, hev' 'em swearing i' my lugs fro'h morn to
neeght, nor hearken ye hahsiver!' said the tenant of the kitchen, in
answer to an unheard speech of Nelly's. 'It's a blazing shame, that I
cannot oppen t' blessed Book, but yah set up them glories to sattan, and
all t' flaysome wickednesses that iver were born into th' warld! Oh!
ye're a raight nowt; and shoo's another; and that poor lad 'll be lost
atween ye. Poor lad!' he added, with a groan; 'he's witched: I'm sartin
on't. Oh, Lord, judge 'em, for there's norther law nor justice among wer
rullers!'

'No! or we should be sitting in flaming fagots, I suppose,' retorted the
singer. 'But wisht, old man, and read your Bible like a Christian, and
never mind me. This is "Fairy Annie's Wedding"--a bonny tune--it goes to
a dance.'

Mrs. Dean was about to recommence, when I advanced; and recognising me
directly, she jumped to her feet, crying--'Why, bless you, Mr. Lockwood!
How could you think of returning in this way? All's shut up at
Thrushcross Grange. You should have given us notice!'

'I've arranged to be accommodated there, for as long as I shall stay,' I
answered. 'I depart again to-morrow. And how are you transplanted here,
Mrs. Dean? tell me that.'

'Zillah left, and Mr. Heathcliff wished me to come, soon after you went
to London, and stay till you returned. But, step in, pray! Have you
walked from Gimmert