soul, from his general bearing, would have conjectured the
fact. You did not when you saw him, Mr. Lockwood: and at the period of
which I speak, he was just the same as then; only fonder of continued
solitude, and perhaps still more laconic in company.

CHAPTER XXXIV

For some days after that evening Mr. Heathcliff shunned meeting us at
meals; yet he would not consent formally to exclude Hareton and Cathy. He
had an aversion to yielding so completely to his feelings, choosing
rather to absent himself; and eating once in twenty-four hours seemed
sufficient sustenance for him.

One night, after the family were in bed, I heard him go downstairs, and
out at the front door. I did not hear him re-enter, and in the morning I
found he was still away. We were in April then: the weather was sweet
and warm, the grass as green as showers and sun could make it, and the
two dwarf apple-trees near the southern wall in full bloom. After
breakfast, Catherine insisted on my bringing a chair and sitting with my
work under the fir-trees at the end of the house; and she beguiled
Hareton, who had perfectly recovered from his accident, to dig and
arrange her little garden, which was shifted to that corner by the
influence of Joseph's complaints. I was comfortably revelling in the
spring fragrance around, and the beautiful soft blue overhead, when my
young lady, who had run down near the gate to procure some primrose roots
for a border, returned only half laden, and informed us that Mr.
Heathcliff was coming in. 'And he spoke to me,' she added, with a
perplexed countenance.

'What did he say?' asked Hareton.

'He told me to begone as fast as I could,' she answered. 'But he looked
so different from his usual look that I stopped a moment to stare at
him.'

'How?' he inquired.

'Why, almost bright and cheerful. No, _almost_ nothing--_very much_
excited, and wild, and glad!' she replied.

'Night-walking amuses him, then,' I remarked, affecting a careless
manner: in reality as surprised as she was, and anxious to ascertain the
truth of her statement; for to see the master looking glad would not be
an every-day spectacle. I framed an excuse to go in. Heathcliff stood
at the open door; he was pale, and he trembled: yet, certainly, he had a
strange joyful glitter in his eyes, that altered the aspect of his whole
face.

'Will you have some breakfast?' I said. 'You must be hungry, rambling
about all night!' I wanted to d