erable comfort. The delusion did not last long.
Catherine, contented at first, in a brief space grew irritable and
restless. For one thing, she was forbidden to move out of the garden, and
it fretted her sadly to be confined to its narrow bounds as spring drew
on; for another, in following the house, I was forced to quit her
frequently, and she complained of loneliness: she preferred quarrelling
with Joseph in the kitchen to sitting at peace in her solitude. I did
not mind their skirmishes: but Hareton was often obliged to seek the
kitchen also, when the master wanted to have the house to himself! and
though in the beginning she either left it at his approach, or quietly
joined in my occupations, and shunned remarking or addressing him--and
though he was always as sullen and silent as possible--after a while, she
changed her behaviour, and became incapable of letting him alone: talking
at him; commenting on his stupidity and idleness; expressing her wonder
how he could endure the life he lived--how he could sit a whole evening
staring into the fire, and dozing.

'He's just like a dog, is he not, Ellen?' she once observed, 'or a
cart-horse? He does his work, eats his food, and sleeps eternally! What
a blank, dreary mind he must have! Do you ever dream, Hareton? And, if
you do, what is it about? But you can't speak to me!'

Then she looked at him; but he would neither open his mouth nor look
again.

'He's, perhaps, dreaming now,' she continued. 'He twitched his shoulder
as Juno twitches hers. Ask him, Ellen.'

'Mr. Hareton will ask the master to send you up-stairs, if you don't
behave!' I said. He had not only twitched his shoulder but clenched his
fist, as if tempted to use it.

'I know why Hareton never speaks, when I am in the kitchen,' she
exclaimed, on another occasion. 'He is afraid I shall laugh at him.
Ellen, what do you think? He began to teach himself to read once; and,
because I laughed, he burned his books, and dropped it: was he not a
fool?'

'Were not you naughty?' I said; 'answer me that.'

'Perhaps I was,' she went on; 'but I did not expect him to be so silly.
Hareton, if I gave you a book, would you take it now? I'll try!'

She placed one she had been perusing on his hand; he flung it off, and
muttered, if she did not give over, he would break her neck.

'Well, I shall put it here,' she said, 'in the table-drawer; and I'm
going to bed.'

Then she whispered me to watch whether he touche