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THE twelve years, continued Mrs. Dean, following that dismal periodwere the happiest of my life: my greatest troubles in theirpassage rose from our little lady's trifling illnesses, which shehad to experience in common with all children, rich and poor. Forthe rest, after the first six months, she grew like a larch, andcould walk and talk too, in her own way, before the heath blossomeda second time over Mrs. Linton's dust. She was the most winningthing that ever brought sunshine into a desolate house: a realbeauty in face, with the Earnshaws' handsome dark eyes, but theLintons' fair skin and small features, and yellow curling hair.Her spirit was high, though not rough, and qualified by a heartsensitive and lively to excess in its affections. That capacityfor intense attachments reminded me of her mother: still she didnot resemble her: for she could be soft and mild as a dove, andshe had a gentle voice and pensive expression: her anger was neverfurious; her love never fierce: it was deep and tender. However,it must be acknowledged, she had faults to foil her gifts. Apropensity to be saucy was one; and a perverse will, that indulgedchildren invariably acquire, whether they be good tempered orcross. If a servant chanced to vex her, it was always - 'I shalltell papa!' And if he reproved her, even by a look, you would havethought it a heart-breaking business: I don't believe he ever didspeak a harsh word to her. He took her education entirely onhimself, and made it an amusement. Fortunately, curiosity and aquick intellect made her an apt scholar: she learned rapidly andeagerly, and did honour to his teaching.

Till she reached the age of thirteen she had not once been beyondthe range of the park by herself. Mr. Linton would take her withhim a mile or so outside, on rare occasions; but he trusted her tono one else. Gimmerton was an unsubstantial name in her ears; thechapel, the only building she had approached or entered, except herown home. Wuthering Heights and Mr. Heathcliff did not exist forher: she was a perfect recluse; and, apparently, perfectlycontented. Sometimes, indeed, while surveying the country from hernursery window, she would observe -

'Ellen, how long will it be before I can walk to the top of thosehills? I wonder what lies on the other side - is it the sea?'

'No, Miss Cathy,' I would answer; 'it is hills again, just likethese.'

'And what are those golden rocks like when you stand under them?'she once asked.

The abrupt descent of Penistone Crags particularly attracted hernotice; especially when the setting sun shone on it and the topmostheights, and the whole extent of landscape besides lay in shadow.I explained that they were bare masses of stone, with hardly enoughearth in their clefts to nourish a stunted tree.

'And why are they bright so long after it is evening here?' shepursued.

'Because they are a great deal higher up than we are,' replied I;'you could not climb them, they are too high and steep. In winterthe frost is always there before it comes to us; and deep intosummer I have found snow under that black hollow on the north-eastside!'

'Oh, you have been on them!' she cried gleefully. 'Then I can go,too, when I am a woman. Has papa been, Ellen?'

'Papa would tell you, Miss,' I answered, hastily, 'that they arenot worth the trouble of visiting. The moors, where you ramblewith him, are much nicer; and Thrushcross Park is the finest placein the world.'

'But I know the park, and I don't know those,' she murmured toherself. 'And I should delight to look round me from the brow ofthat tallest point: my little pony Minny shall take me some time.'

One of the maids mentioning the Fairy Cave, quite turned her headwith a desire to fulfil this project: she teased Mr. Linton aboutit; and he promised she should have the journey when she got older.But Miss Catherine measured her age by months, and, 'Now, am I oldenough to go to Penistone Crags?' was the constant question in hermouth. The road thither wound close by Wuthering Heights. Edgarhad not the heart to pass it; so she received as constantly theanswer, 'Not yet, love: not yet.'

I said Mrs. Heathcliff lived above a dozen years after quitting herhusband. Her family were of a delicate constitution: she andEdgar both lacked the ruddy health that you will generally meet inthese parts. What her last illness was, I am not certain: Iconjecture, they died of the same thing, a kind of fever, slow atits commencement, but incurable, and rapidly consuming life towardsthe close. She wrote to inform her brother of the probableconclusion of a four-months' indisposition under which she hadsuffered, and entreated him to come to her, if possible; for shehad much to settle, and she wished to bid him adieu, and deliverLinton safely into his hands. Her hope was that Linton might beleft with him, as he had been with her: his father, she would fainconvince herself, had no desire to assume the burden of hismaintenance or education. My master hesitated not a moment incomplying with her request: reluctant as he was to leave home atordinary calls, he flew to answer this; commanding Catherine to mypeculiar vigilance, in his absence, with reiterated orders that shemust not wander out of the park, even under my escort he did notcalculate on her going unaccompanied.

He was away three weeks. The first day or two my charge sat in acorner of the library, too sad for either reading or playing: inthat quiet state she caused me little trouble; but it was succeededby an interval of impatient, fretful weariness; and being too busy,and too old then, to run up and down amusing her, I hit on a methodby which she might entertain herself. I used to send her on hertravels round the grounds - now on foot, and now on a pony;indulging her with a patient audience of all her real and imaginaryadventures when she returned.

The summer shone in full prime; and she took such a taste for thissolitary rambling that she often contrived to remain out frombreakfast till tea; and then the evenings were spent in recountingher fanciful tales. I did not fear her breaking bounds; becausethe gates were generally looked, and I thought she would scarcelyventure forth alone, if they had stood wide open. Unluckily, myconfidence proved misplaced. Catherine came to me, one morning, ateight o'clock, and said she was that day an Arabian merchant, goingto cross the Desert with his caravan; and I must give her plenty ofprovision for herself and beasts: a horse, and three camels,personated by a large hound and a couple of pointers. I gottogether good store of dainties, and slung them in a basket on oneside of the saddle; and she sprang up as gay as a fairy, shelteredby her wide-brimmed hat and gauze veil from the July sun, andtrotted off with a merry laugh, mocking my cautious counsel toavoid galloping, and come back early. The naughty thing never madeher appearance at tea. One traveller, the hound, being an old dogand fond of its ease, returned; but neither Cathy, nor the pony,nor the two pointers were visible in any direction: I despatchedemissaries down this path, and that path, and at last wentwandering in search of her myself. There was a labourer working ata fence round a plantation, on the borders of the grounds. Iinquired of him if he had seen our young lady.

'I saw her at morn,' he replied: 'she would have me to cut her ahazel switch, and then she leapt her Galloway over the hedgeyonder, where it is lowest, and galloped out of sight.'

You may guess how I felt at hearing this news. It struck medirectly she must have started for Penistone Crags. 'What willbecome of her?' I ejaculated, pushing through a gap which the manwas repairing, and making straight to the high-road. I walked asif for a wager, mile after mile, till a turn brought me in view ofthe Heights; but no Catherine could I detect, far or near. TheCrags lie about a mile and a half beyond Mr. Heathcliff's place,and that is four from the Grange, so I began to fear night wouldfall ere I could reach them. 'And what if she should have slippedin clambering among them,' I reflected, 'and been killed, or brokensome of her bones?' My suspense was truly painful; and, at first,it gave me delightful relief to observe, in hurrying by thefarmhouse, Charlie, the fiercest of the pointers, lying under awindow, with swelled head and bleeding ear. I opened the wicketand ran to the door, knocking vehemently for admittance. A womanwhom I knew, and who formerly lived at Gimmerton, answered: shehad been servant there since the death of Mr. Earnshaw.

'Ah,' said she, 'you are come a-seeking your little mistress!Don't be frightened. She's here safe: but I'm glad it isn't themaster.'

'He is not at home then, is he?' I panted, quite breathless withquick walking and alarm.

'No, no,' she replied: 'both he and Joseph are off, and I thinkthey won't return this hour or more. Step in and rest you a bit.'

I entered, and beheld my stray lamb seated on the hearth, rockingherself in a little chair that had been her mother's when a child.Her hat was hung against the wall, and she seemed perfectly athome, laughing and chattering, in the best spirits imaginable, toHareton - now a great, strong lad of eighteen - who stared at herwith considerable curiosity and astonishment: comprehendingprecious little of the fluent succession of remarks and questionswhich her tongue never ceased pouring forth.

'Very well, Miss!' I exclaimed, concealing my joy under an angrycountenance. 'This is your last ride, till papa comes back. I'llnot trust you over the threshold again, you naughty, naughty girl!'

'Aha, Ellen!' she cried, gaily, jumping up and running to my side.'I shall have a pretty story to tell to-night; and so you've foundme out. Have you ever been here in your life before?'

'Put that hat on, and home at once,' said I. 'I'm dreadfullygrieved at you, Miss Cathy: you've done extremely wrong! It's nouse pouting and crying: that won't repay the trouble I've had,scouring the country after you. To think how Mr. Linton charged meto keep you in; and you stealing off so! It shows you are acunning little fox, and nobody will put faith in you any more.'

'What have I done?' sobbed she, instantly checked. 'Papa chargedme nothing: he'll not scold me, Ellen - he's never cross, likeyou!'

'Come, come!' I repeated. 'I'll tie the riband. Now, let us haveno petulance. Oh, for shame! You thirteen years old, and such ababy!'

This exclamation was caused by her pushing the hat from her head,and retreating to the chimney out of my reach.

'Nay,' said the servant, 'don't be hard on the bonny lass, Mrs.Dean. We made her stop: she'd fain have ridden forwards, afeardyou should be uneasy. Hareton offered to go with her, and Ithought he should: it's a wild road over the hills.'

Hareton, during the discussion, stood with his hands in hispockets, too awkward to speak; though he looked as if he did notrelish my intrusion.

'How long am I to wait?' I continued, disregarding the woman'sinterference. 'It will be dark in ten minutes. Where is the pony,Miss Cathy? And where is Phoenix? I shall leave you, unless yoube quick; so please yourself.'

'The pony is in the yard,' she replied, 'and Phoenix is shut inthere. He's bitten - and so is Charlie. I was going to tell youall about it; but you are in a bad temper, and don't deserve tohear.'

I picked up her hat, and approached to reinstate it; but perceivingthat the people of the house took her part, she commenced caperinground the room; and on my giving chase, ran like a mouse over andunder and behind the furniture, rendering it ridiculous for me topursue. Hareton and the woman laughed, and she joined them, andwaxed more impertinent still; till I cried, in great irritation, -'Well, Miss Cathy, if you were aware whose house this is you'd beglad enough to get out.'

'It's YOUR father's, isn't it?' said she, turning to Hareton.

'Nay,' he replied, looking down, and blushing bashfully.

He could not stand a steady gaze from her eyes, though they werejust his own.

'Whose then - your master's?' she asked.

He coloured deeper, with a different feeling, muttered an oath, andturned away.

'Who is his master?' continued the tiresome girl, appealing to me.'He talked about "our house," and "our folk." I thought he hadbeen the owner's son. And he never said Miss: he should havedone, shouldn't he, if he's a servant?'

Hareton grew black as a thunder-cloud at this childish speech. Isilently shook my questioner, and at last succeeded in equippingher for departure.

'Now, get my horse,' she said, addressing her unknown kinsman asshe would one of the stable-boys at the Grange. 'And you may comewith me. I want to see where the goblin-hunter rises in the marsh,and to hear about the FAIRISHES, as you call them: but make haste!What's the matter? Get my horse, I say.'

'I'll see thee damned before I be THY servant!' growled the lad.

"You'll see me WHAT!' asked Catherine in surprise.

'Damned - thou saucy witch!' he replied.

'There, Miss Cathy! you see you have got into pretty company,' Iinterposed. 'Nice words to be used to a young lady! Pray don'tbegin to dispute with him. Come, let us seek for Minny ourselves,and begone.'

'But, Ellen,' cried she, staring fixed in astonishment, 'how darehe speak so to me? Mustn't he be made to do as I ask him? Youwicked creature, I shall tell papa what you said. - Now, then!'

Hareton did not appear to feel this threat; so the tears spranginto her eyes with indignation. 'You bring the pony,' sheexclaimed, turning to the woman, 'and let my dog free this moment!'

'Softly, Miss,' answered she addressed: 'you'll lose nothing bybeing civil. Though Mr. Hareton, there, be not the master's son,he's your cousin: and I was never hired to serve you.'

'HE my cousin!' cried Cathy, with a scornful laugh.

'Yes, indeed,' responded her reprover.

'Oh, Ellen! don't let them say such things,' she pursued in greattrouble. 'Papa is gone to fetch my cousin from London: my cousinis a gentleman's son. That my - ' she stopped, and wept outright;upset at the bare notion of relationship with such a clown.

'Hush, hush!' I whispered; 'people can have many cousins and of allsorts, Miss Cathy, without being any the worse for it; only theyneedn't keep their company, if they be disagreeable and bad.'

'He's not - he's not my cousin, Ellen!' she went on, gatheringfresh grief from reflection, and flinging herself into my arms forrefuge from the idea.

I was much vexed at her and the servant for their mutualrevelations; having no doubt of Linton's approaching arrival,communicated by the former, being reported to Mr. Heathcliff; andfeeling as confident that Catherine's first thought on her father'sreturn would be to seek an explanation of the latter's assertionconcerning her rude-bred kindred. Hareton, recovering from hisdisgust at being taken for a servant, seemed moved by her distress;and, having fetched the pony round to the door, he took, topropitiate her, a fine crooked-legged terrier whelp from thekennel, and putting it into her hand, bid her whist! for he meantnought. Pausing in her lamentations, she surveyed him with aglance of awe and horror, then burst forth anew.

I could scarcely refrain from smiling at this antipathy to the poorfellow; who was a well-made, athletic youth, good-looking infeatures, and stout and healthy, but attired in garments befittinghis daily occupations of working on the farm and lounging among themoors after rabbits and game. Still, I thought I could detect inhis physiognomy a mind owning better qualities than his father everpossessed. Good things lost amid a wilderness of weeds, to besure, whose rankness far over-topped their neglected growth; yet,notwithstanding, evidence of a wealthy soil, that might yieldluxuriant crops under other and favourable circumstances. Mr.Heathcliff, I believe, had not treated him physically ill; thanksto his fearless nature, which offered no temptation to that courseof oppression: he had none of the timid susceptibility that wouldhave given zest to ill-treatment, in Heathcliff s judgment. Heappeared to have bent his malevolence on making him a brute: hewas never taught to read or write; never rebuked for any bad habitwhich did not annoy his keeper; never led a single step towardsvirtue, or guarded by a single precept against vice. And from whatI heard, Joseph contributed much to his deterioration, by a narrow-minded partiality which prompted him to flatter and pet him, as aboy, because he was the head of the old family. And as he had beenin the habit of accusing Catherine Earnshaw and Heathcliff, whenchildren, of putting the master past his patience, and compellinghim to seek solace in drink by what he termed their 'offald ways,'so at present he laid the whole burden of Hareton's faults on theshoulders of the usurper of his property. If the lad swore, hewouldn't correct him: nor however culpably he behaved. It gaveJoseph satisfaction, apparently, to watch him go the worst lengths:he allowed that the lad was ruined: that his soul was abandoned toperdition; but then he reflected that Heathcliff must answer forit. Hareton's blood would be required at his hands; and there layimmense consolation in that thought. Joseph had instilled into hima pride of name, and of his lineage; he would, had he dared, havefostered hate between him and the present owner of the Heights:but his dread of that owner amounted to superstition; and heconfined his feelings regarding him to muttered innuendoes andprivate comminations. I don't pretend to be intimately acquaintedwith the mode of living customary in those days at WutheringHeights: I only speak from hearsay; for I saw little. Thevillagers affirmed Mr. Heathcliff was NEAR, and a cruel hardlandlord to his tenants; but the house, inside, had regained itsancient aspect of comfort under female management, and the scenesof riot common in Hindley's time were not now enacted within itswalls. The master was too gloomy to seek companionship with anypeople, good or bad; and he is yet.

This, however, is not making progress with my story. Miss Cathyrejected the peace-offering of the terrier, and demanded her owndogs, Charlie and Phoenix. They came limping and hanging theirheads; and we set out for home, sadly out of sorts, every one ofus. I could not wring from my little lady how she had spent theday; except that, as I supposed, the goal of her pilgrimage wasPenistone Crags; and she arrived without adventure to the gate ofthe farm-house, when Hareton happened to issue forth, attended bysome canine followers, who attacked her train. They had a smartbattle, before their owners could separate them: that formed anintroduction. Catherine told Hareton who she was, and where shewas going; and asked him to show her the way: finally, beguilinghim to accompany her. He opened the mysteries of the Fairy Cave,and twenty other queer places. But, being in disgrace, I was notfavoured with a description of the interesting objects she saw. Icould gather, however, that her guide had been a favourite till shehurt his feelings by addressing him as a servant; and Heathcliff'shousekeeper hurt hers by calling him her cousin. Then the languagehe had held to her rankled in her heart; she who was always 'love,'and 'darling,' and 'queen,' and 'angel,' with everybody at theGrange, to be insulted so shockingly by a stranger! She did notcomprehend it; and hard work I had to obtain a promise that shewould not lay the grievance before her father. I explained how heobjected to the whole household at the Heights, and how sorry hewould be to find she had been there; but I insisted most on thefact, that if she revealed my negligence of his orders, he wouldperhaps be so angry that I should have to leave; and Cathy couldn'tbear that prospect: she pledged her word, and kept it for my sake.After all, she was a sweet little girl.