ons my name, and that
I am never mentioned to her. To whom should she mention me if I am a
forbidden topic in the house? She thinks you are all spies for her
husband. Oh, I've no doubt she's in hell among you! I guess by her
silence, as much as anything, what she feels. You say she is often
restless, and anxious-looking: is that a proof of tranquillity? You talk
of her mind being unsettled. How the devil could it be otherwise in her
frightful isolation? And that insipid, paltry creature attending her
from _duty_ and _humanity_! From _pity_ and _charity_! He might as well
plant an oak in a flower-pot, and expect it to thrive, as imagine he can
restore her to vigour in the soil of his shallow cares? Let us settle it
at once: will you stay here, and am I to fight my way to Catherine over
Linton and his footman? Or will you be my friend, as you have been
hitherto, and do what I request? Decide! because there is no reason for
my lingering another minute, if you persist in your stubborn ill-nature!'

Well, Mr. Lockwood, I argued and complained, and flatly refused him fifty
times; but in the long run he forced me to an agreement. I engaged to
carry a letter from him to my mistress; and should she consent, I
promised to let him have intelligence of Linton's next absence from home,
when he might come, and get in as he was able: I wouldn't be there, and
my fellow-servants should be equally out of the way. Was it right or
wrong? I fear it was wrong, though expedient. I thought I prevented
another explosion by my compliance; and I thought, too, it might create a
favourable crisis in Catherine's mental illness: and then I remembered
Mr. Edgar's stern rebuke of my carrying tales; and I tried to smooth away
all disquietude on the subject, by affirming, with frequent iteration,
that that betrayal of trust, if it merited so harsh an appellation,
should be the last. Notwithstanding, my journey homeward was sadder than
my journey thither; and many misgivings I had, ere I could prevail on
myself to put the missive into Mrs. Linton's hand.

But here is Kenneth; I'll go down, and tell him how much better you are.
My history is _dree_, as we say, and will serve to while away another
morning.

Dree, and dreary! I reflected as the good woman descended to receive the
doctor: and not exactly of the kind which I should have chosen to amuse
me. But never mind! I'll extract wholesome medicines from Mrs. Dean's
bitter herbs; an