Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers
or sliding back the panels, or entering the room, or even resting
her darling head on the same pillow as she did when a child; and I
must open my lids to see. And so I opened and closed them a
hundred times a night--to be always disappointed! It racked me!
I’ve often groaned aloud, till that old rascal Joseph no doubt
believed that my conscience was playing the fiend inside of me.
“Now, since I’ve seen her, I’m pacified--a little. It was a strange
way of killing,--not by inches, but by fractions of hairbreadths, to
beguile me with the spectre of a hope, through eighteen years!”
Mr. Heathcliff paused and wiped his forehead; his hair clung to
it, wet with perspiration; his eyes were fixed on the red embers of
the fire; the brows not contracted, but raised next the temples,
diminishing the grim aspect of his countenance, but imparting a
peculiar look of trouble, and a painful appearance of mental
tension towards one absorbing subject. He only half addressed me,
and I maintained silence--I didn’t like to hear him talk!
After a short period, he resumed his meditation on the picture,
took it down and leant it against the sofa to contemplate it at
better advantage; and while so occupied, Catherine entered,
announcing that she was ready, when her pony should be saddled.
“Send that over tomorrow,” said Heathcliff to me; then turning
to her he added, “you may do without your pony; it is a fine
evening, and you’ll need no ponies at Wuthering Heights; for what
journeys you take, your own feet will serve you. Come along.”
“Good-bye, Ellen!” whispered my dear little mistress. As she
kissed me, her lips felt like ice. “Come and see me, Ellen; don’t
“Take care you do no such thing, Mrs. Dean!” said her new
father. “When I wish to speak to you I’ll come here. I want none of