r
intense attachments reminded me of her mother: still she did not resemble
her: for she could be soft and mild as a dove, and she had a gentle voice
and pensive expression: her anger was never furious; her love never
fierce: it was deep and tender. However, it must be acknowledged, she
had faults to foil her gifts. A propensity to be saucy was one; and a
perverse will, that indulged children invariably acquire, whether they be
good tempered or cross. If a servant chanced to vex her, it was
always--'I shall tell papa!' And if he reproved her, even by a look, you
would have thought it a heart-breaking business: I don't believe he ever
did speak a harsh word to her. He took her education entirely on
himself, and made it an amusement. Fortunately, curiosity and a quick
intellect made her an apt scholar: she learned rapidly and eagerly, and
did honour to his teaching.

Till she reached the age of thirteen she had not once been beyond the
range of the park by herself. Mr. Linton would take her with him a mile
or so outside, on rare occasions; but he trusted her to no one else.
Gimmerton was an unsubstantial name in her ears; the chapel, the only
building she had approached or entered, except her own home. Wuthering
Heights and Mr. Heathcliff did not exist for her: she was a perfect
recluse; and, apparently, perfectly contented. Sometimes, indeed, while
surveying the country from her nursery window, she would observe--

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

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

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

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

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

'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 winter the frost
is always there before it comes to us; and deep into summer I have found
snow under that black hollow on the north-east side!'

'Oh, you have been on them!' she cried gleefully. 'Then I ca