range a room, and other accommodations, for his youthful nephew.
Catherine ran wild with joy at the idea of welcoming her father back; and
indulged most sanguine anticipations of the innumerable excellencies of
her 'real' cousin. The evening of their expected arrival came. Since
early morning she had been busy ordering her own small affairs; and now
attired in her new black frock--poor thing! her aunt's death impressed
her with no definite sorrow--she obliged me, by constant worrying, to
walk with her down through the grounds to meet them.

'Linton is just six months younger than I am,' she chattered, as we
strolled leisurely over the swells and hollows of mossy turf, under
shadow of the trees. 'How delightful it will be to have him for a
playfellow! Aunt Isabella sent papa a beautiful lock of his hair; it was
lighter than mine--more flaxen, and quite as fine. I have it carefully
preserved in a little glass box; and I've often thought what a pleasure
it would be to see its owner. Oh! I am happy--and papa, dear, dear papa!
Come, Ellen, let us run! come, run.'

She ran, and returned and ran again, many times before my sober footsteps
reached the gate, and then she seated herself on the grassy bank beside
the path, and tried to wait patiently; but that was impossible: she
couldn't be still a minute.

'How long they are!' she exclaimed. 'Ah, I see, some dust on the
road--they are coming! No! When will they be here? May we not go a
little way--half a mile, Ellen, only just half a mile? Do say Yes: to
that clump of birches at the turn!'

I refused staunchly. At length her suspense was ended: the travelling
carriage rolled in sight. Miss Cathy shrieked and stretched out her arms
as soon as she caught her father's face looking from the window. He
descended, nearly as eager as herself; and a considerable interval
elapsed ere they had a thought to spare for any but themselves. While
they exchanged caresses I took a peep in to see after Linton. He was
asleep in a corner, wrapped in a warm, fur-lined cloak, as if it had been
winter. A pale, delicate, effeminate boy, who might have been taken for
my master's younger brother, so strong was the resemblance: but there was
a sickly peevishness in his aspect that Edgar Linton never had. The
latter saw me looking; and having shaken hands, advised me to close the
door, and leave him undisturbed; for the journey had fatigued him. Cathy
would fain have taken one glance,