and the other on her breast. "In my soul and in my heart I'm convinced
I'm wrong! I've no more business to marry Edgar Linton than I have to be
in heaven; and if the wicked man in there, my brother, had not brought
Heathcliff so low I shouldn't have thought of it. It would degrade me to
marry Heathcliff now; so he shall never know how I love him, and that
not because he's handsome, Nelly, but because he's more myself than I
am. Whatever our souls are made of, his and mine are the same, and
Linton's is as different as a moonbeam from lightning, or frost from
fire. Nelly, I dreamed I was in heaven, but heaven did not seem to be my
home, and I broke my heart with weeping to come back to earth; and the
angels were so angry that they flung me out into the middle of the heath
on the top of Wuthering Heights, where I woke sobbing for joy."

Ere this speech was ended, Heathcliff, who had been lying out of sight
on a bench by the kitchen wall, stole out. He had heard Catherine say it
would degrade her to marry him, and he had heard no further.

That night, while a storm rattled over the heights in full fury,
Heathcliff disappeared. Catherine suffered uncontrollable grief, and
became dangerously ill. When she was convalescent she went to
Thrushcross Grange. But Edgar Linton, when he married her, three years
subsequent to his father's death, and brought her here to the Grange,
was the happiest man alive. I accompanied her, leaving little Hareton,
who was now nearly five years old, and had just begun to learn his
letters.

On a mellow evening in September, I was coming from the garden with a
basket of apples I had been gathering, when, as I approached the kitchen
door, I heard a voice say, "Nelly, is that you?"

Something stirred in the porch, and, moving nearer, I saw a tall man,
dressed in dark clothes, with dark hair and face.

"What," I cried, "you come back?"

"Yes, Nelly. You needn't be so disturbed. I want one word with your
mistress."

I went in, and explained to Mr. Edgar and Catherine who was waiting
below.

"Oh, Edgar darling," she panted, flinging her arms round his neck,
"Heathcliff's come back--he is!"

"Well, well," he said, "don't strangle me for that. There's no need to
be frantic. Try to be glad without being absurd!"

When Heathcliff came in, she seized his hands and laughed like one
beside herself.

It seemed that he was staying at Wuthering Heights, invited by Mr.
Earnshaw! When I heard this I had