beneath them. You are welcome to torture
me to death for your amusement, only allow me to amuse myself a little in
the same style, and refrain from insult as much as you are able. Having
levelled my palace, don't erect a hovel and complacently admire your own
charity in giving me that for a home. If I imagined you really wished me
to marry Isabel, I'd cut my throat!'

'Oh, the evil is that I am _not_ jealous, is it?' cried Catherine. 'Well,
I won't repeat my offer of a wife: it is as bad as offering Satan a lost
soul. Your bliss lies, like his, in inflicting misery. You prove it.
Edgar is restored from the ill-temper he gave way to at your coming; I
begin to be secure and tranquil; and you, restless to know us at peace,
appear resolved on exciting a quarrel. Quarrel with Edgar, if you
please, Heathcliff, and deceive his sister: you'll hit on exactly the
most efficient method of revenging yourself on me.'

The conversation ceased. Mrs. Linton sat down by the fire, flushed and
gloomy. The spirit which served her was growing intractable: she could
neither lay nor control it. He stood on the hearth with folded arms,
brooding on his evil thoughts; and in this position I left them to seek
the master, who was wondering what kept Catherine below so long.

'Ellen,' said he, when I entered, 'have you seen your mistress?'

'Yes; she's in the kitchen, sir,' I answered. 'She's sadly put out by
Mr. Heathcliff's behaviour: and, indeed, I do think it's time to arrange
his visits on another footing. There's harm in being too soft, and now
it's come to this--.' And I related the scene in the court, and, as near
as I dared, the whole subsequent dispute. I fancied it could not be very
prejudicial to Mrs. Linton; unless she made it so afterwards, by assuming
the defensive for her guest. Edgar Linton had difficulty in hearing me
to the close. His first words revealed that he did not clear his wife of
blame.

'This is insufferable!' he exclaimed. 'It is disgraceful that she should
own him for a friend, and force his company on me! Call me two men out
of the hall, Ellen. Catherine shall linger no longer to argue with the
low ruffian--I have humoured her enough.'

He descended, and bidding the servants wait in the passage, went,
followed by me, to the kitchen. Its occupants had recommenced their
angry discussion: Mrs. Linton, at least, was scolding with renewed
vigour; Heathcliff had moved to the window, and hung his h