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said she was ill; at which I hardly wondered. I informed Mr.
Heathcliff, and he replied:

“‘Well, let her be till after the funeral; and go up now and then
to get her what is needful; and, as soon as she seems better, tell

Cathy stayed upstairs a fortnight, according to Zillah, who
visited her twice a day, and would have been rather more friendly,
but her attempts at increasing kindness were proudly and
promptly repelled.

Heathcliff went up at once, to show her Linton’s will. He had
bequeathed the whole of his and what had been her movable
property to his father: the poor creature was threatened, or
coaxed, into that act during her week’s absence, when his uncle
died. The lands, being a minor, he could not meddle with.
However, Mr. Heathcliff has claimed and kept them in his wife’s
right, and his also--I suppose legally--at any rate, Catherine,
destitute of cash and friends, cannot disturb his possession.

“Nobody,” said Zillah, “ever approached her door, except that
once, but I . . . and nobody asked anything about her. The first
occasion of her coming down into the house was on a Sunday

“She had cried out, when I carried up her dinner, that she
couldn’t bear any longer being in the cold; and I told her the
master was going to Thrushcross Grange, and Earnshaw and I
needn’t hinder her from descending; so, as soon as she heard
Heathcliff’s horse trot off, she made her appearance, donned in
black, and her yellow curls combed back behind her ears, as plain
as a Quaker: she couldn’t comb them out.

“Joseph and I generally go to chapel on Sundays,” (the Kirk,

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