CHAPTER XV

Anotherweekover—andIamsomanydaysnearerhealth,andspring!Ihavenowheardallmyneighbour’shistory,atdifferentsittings,asthehousekeepercouldsparetimefrommoreimportantoccupations.I’llcontinueitinherownwords,onlyalittlecondensed.Sheis,onthewhole,averyfairnarrator,andIdon’tthinkIcouldimproveherstyle. ***** Intheevening,shesaid,theeveningofmyvisittotheHeights,Iknew,aswellasifIsawhim,thatMr.HeathcliffwasabouttheplaceandIshunnedgoingout,becauseIstillcarriedhisletterinmypocket,anddidn’twanttobethreatenedorteasedanymore.Ihadmadeupmymindnottogiveittillmymasterwentsomewhere,asIcouldnotguesshowitsreceiptwouldaffectCatherine.Theconsequencewas,thatitdidnotreachherbeforethelapseofthreedays.ThefourthwasSunday,andIbroughtitintoherroomafterthefamilyweregonetochurch.Therewasamanservantlefttokeepthehousewithme,andwegenerallymadeapracticeoflockingthedoorsduringthehoursofservicebutonthatoccasiontheweatherwassowarmandpleasantthatIsetthemwideopen,and,tofulfilmyengagement,asIknewwhowouldbecoming,Itoldmycompanionthatthemistresswishedverymuchforsomeoranges,andhemustrunovertothevillageandgetafew,tobepaidforonthemorrow.Hedeparted,andIwentupstairs. Mrs.Lintonsatinaloosewhitedress,withalightshawloverhershoulders,intherecessoftheopenwindow,asusual.Herthick,longhairhadbeenpartlyremovedatthebeginningofherillness,andnowsheworeitsimplycombedinitsnaturaltressesoverhertemplesandneck.Herappearancewasaltered,asIhadtoldHeathcliffbutwhenshewascalm,thereseemedunearthlybeautyinthechange.Theflashofhereyeshadbeensucceededbyadreamyandmelancholysoftnesstheynolongergavetheimpressionoflookingattheobjectsaroundher:theyappearedalwaystogazebeyond,andfarbeyond—youwouldhavesaidoutofthisworld.Then,thepalenessofherface—itshaggardaspecthavingvanishedassherecoveredflesh—andthepeculiarexpressionarisingfromhermentalstate,thoughpainfullysuggestiveoftheircauses,addedtothetouchinginterestwhichsheawakenedand—invariablytome,Iknow,andtoanypersonwhosawher,Ishouldthink—refutedmoretangibleproofsofconvalescence,andstampedherasonedoomedtodecay. Abooklayspreadonthesillbeforeher,andthescarcelyperceptiblewindfluttereditsleavesatintervals.IbelieveLintonhadlaiditthere:forsheneverendeavouredtodivertherselfwithreading,oroccupationofanykind,andhewouldspendmanyanhourintryingtoenticeherattentiontosomesubjectwhichhadformerlybeenheramusement.Shewasconsciousofhisaim,andinherbettermoodsenduredhiseffortsplacidly,onlyshowingtheiruselessnessbynowandthensuppressingaweariedsigh,andcheckinghimatlastwiththesaddestofsmilesandkisses.Atothertimes,shewouldturnpetulantlyaway,andhideherfaceinherhands,orevenpushhimoffangrilyandthenhetookcaretoletheralone,forhewascertainofdoingnogood. Gimmertonchapelbellswerestillringingandthefull,mellowflowofthebeckinthevalleycamesoothinglyontheear.Itwasasweetsubstitutefortheyetabsentmurmurofthesummerfoliage,whichdrownedthatmusicabouttheGran