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Divine rest. I instinctively echoed the words she had uttered a few
hours before: “Incomparably beyond and above us all! Whether
still on earth or now in heaven, her spirit is at home with God!”
I don’t know if it be a peculiarity in me, but I am seldom
otherwise than happy while watching in the chamber of death,
should no frenzied or despairing mourner share the duty with me.
I see a repose that neither earth nor hell can break, and I feel an
assurance of the endless and shadowless hereafter--the Eternity
they have entered--where life is boundless in its duration, and
love in its sympathy, and joy in its fullness. I noticed on that
occasion how much selfishness there is even in a love like Mr.
Linton’s, when he so regretted Catherine’s blessed release!
To be sure, one might have doubted, after the wayward and
impatient existence she had led, whether she merited a haven of
peace at last. One might doubt in seasons of cold reflection; but
not then, in the presence of her corpse. It asserted its own
tranquillity, which seemed a pledge of equal quiet to its former
Do you believe such people are happy in the other world, sir?
I’d give a great deal to know.
I declined answering Mrs. Dean’s question, which struck me as
something heterodox. She proceeded:
Retracing the course of Catherine Linton, I fear we have no
right to think she is; but we’ll leave her with her Maker.
The master looked asleep, and I ventured soon after sunrise to
quit the room and steal out to the pure refreshing air. The
servants thought me gone to shake off the drowsiness of my
protracted watch; in reality, my chief motive was seeing Mr.
Heathcliff. If he had remained among the larches all night, he