CHAPTER XII

WhileMissLintonmopedabouttheparkandgarden,alwayssilent,andalmostalwaysintearsandherbrothershuthimselfupamongbooksthatheneveropened—wearying,Iguessed,withacontinualvagueexpectationthatCatherine,repentingherconduct,wouldcomeofherownaccordtoaskpardon,andseekareconciliation—andshefastedpertinaciously,undertheidea,probably,thatateverymealEdgarwasreadytochokeforherabsence,andpridealoneheldhimfromrunningtocasthimselfatherfeetIwentaboutmyhouseholdduties,convincedthattheGrangehadbutonesensiblesoulinitswalls,andthatlodgedinmybody.IwastednocondolencesonMiss,noranyexpostulationsonmymistressnordidIpaymuchattentiontothesighsofmymaster,whoyearnedtohearhislady’sname,sincehemightnothearhervoice.Ideterminedtheyshouldcomeaboutastheypleasedformeandthoughitwasatiresomelyslowprocess,Ibegantorejoiceatlengthinafaintdawnofitsprogress:asIthoughtatfirst. Mrs.Linton,onthethirdday,unbarredherdoor,andhavingfinishedthewaterinherpitcheranddecanter,desiredarenewedsupply,andabasinofgruel,forshebelievedshewasdying.ThatIsetdownasaspeechmeantforEdgar’searsIbelievednosuchthing,soIkeptittomyselfandbroughthersometeaanddrytoast.Sheateanddrankeagerly,andsankbackonherpillowagain,clenchingherhandsandgroaning.“Oh,Iwilldie,”sheexclaimed,“sincenoonecaresanythingaboutme.IwishIhadnottakenthat.”ThenagoodwhileafterIheardhermurmur,“No,I’llnotdie—he’dbeglad—hedoesnotlovemeatall—hewouldnevermissme!” “Didyouwantanything,ma’am?”Iinquired,stillpreservingmyexternalcomposure,inspiteofherghastlycountenanceandstrange,exaggeratedmanner. “Whatisthatapatheticbeingdoing?”shedemanded,pushingthethickentangledlocksfromherwastedface.“Hashefallenintoalethargy,orishedead?” “Neither,”repliedI“ifyoumeanMr.Linton.He’stolerablywell,Ithink,thoughhisstudiesoccupyhimrathermorethantheyought:heiscontinuallyamonghisbooks,sincehehasnoothersociety.” IshouldnothavespokensoifIhadknownhertruecondition,butIcouldnotgetridofthenotionthatsheactedapartofherdisorder. “Amonghisbooks!”shecried,confounded.“AndIdying!Ionthebrinkofthegrave!MyGod!doesheknowhowI’maltered?”continuedshe,staringatherreflectioninamirrorhangingagainsttheoppositewall.“IsthatCatherineLinton?Heimaginesmeinapet—inplay,perhaps.Cannotyouinformhimthatitisfrightfulearnest?Nelly,ifitbenottoolate,assoonasIlearnhowhefeels,I’llchoosebetweenthesetwo:eithertostarveatonce—thatwouldbenopunishmentunlesshehadaheart—ortorecover,andleavethecountry.Areyouspeakingthetruthabouthimnow?Takecare.Isheactuallysoutterlyindifferentformylife?” “Why,ma’am,”Ianswered,“themasterhasnoideaofyourbeingderangedandofcoursehedoesnotfearthatyouwillletyourselfdieofhunger.” “Youthinknot?CannotyoutellhimIwill?”shereturned.“Persuadehim!speakofyourownmind:sayyouarecertainIwill!” “No,youforget,Mrs.Linton,”Isuggested,“thatyouhaveeatensomefoodwitharelishthisevening,andto-morrowyouwillperceiveitsgoodeffects.” “IfIwereonlysureitwouldkillhim,”sheinterrupted,“I’dkillmyselfdirectly!ThesethreeawfulnightsI’veneverclosedmylids—andoh,I’vebeentormented!I’vebeenhaunted,Nelly!ButIbegintofancyyoudon’tlikeme.Howstrange!Ithought,thougheverybodyhatedanddespisedeachother,theycouldnotavoidlovingme.Andtheyhaveallturnedtoenemiesinafewhours.Theyhave,I’mpositivethepeoplehere.Howdrearytomeetdeath,surroundedbytheircoldfaces!Isabella,terrifiedandrepelled,afraidtoentertheroom,itwouldbesodreadfultowatchCatherinego.AndEdgarstandingsolemnlybytoseeitoverthenofferingprayersofthankstoGodforrestoringpeacetohishouse,andgoingbacktohisbooks!Whatinthenameofallthatfeelshashetodowithbooks,whenIamdying?” ShecouldnotbearthenotionwhichIhadputintoherheadofMr.Linton’sphilosophicalresignation.Tossingabout,sheincreasedherfeverishbewildermenttomadness,andtorethepillowwithherteeththenraisingherselfupallburning,desiredthatIwouldopenthewindow.Wewereinthemiddleofwinter,thewindblewstrongfromthenorth-east,andIobjected.Boththeexpressionsflittingoverherface,andthechangesofhermoods,begantoalarmmeterriblyandbroughttomyrecollectionherformerillness,andthedoctor’sinjunctionthatsheshouldnotbecrossed.Aminutepreviouslyshewasviolentnow,supportedononearm,andnotnoticingmyrefusaltoobeyher,sheseemedtofindchildishdiversioninpullingthefeathersfromtherentsshehadjustmade,andrangingthemonthesheetaccordingtotheirdifferentspecies:hermindhadstrayedtootherassociations. “That’saturkey’s,”shemurmuredtoherself“andthisisawildduck’sandthisisapigeon’s.Ah,theyputpigeons’feathersinthepillows—nowonderIcouldn’tdie!LetmetakecaretothrowitonthefloorwhenIliedown.Andhereisamoor-cock’sandthis—Ishouldknowitamongathous