Chapter31, Part3
‘Yes that's all the good that such a brute as you can get from them!' cried Catherine, sucking her damaged lip, and watching the conflagration with indignant eyes.
‘You'd better hold your tongue, now,' he answered fiercely. And his agitation precluded further speech; he advanced hastily to the entrance, where I made way for him to pass. But ere he had crossed the door-stones, Mr. Heathcliff, coming up the causeway, encountered him, and laying hold of his shoulder asked,—‘What's to do now, my lad?' ‘Naught, naught,' he said, and broke away to enjoy his grief and anger in solitude. Heathcliff gazed after him, and sighed.
‘It will be odd if I thwart myself,' he muttered, unconscious that I was behind him. ‘But when I look for his father in his face, I find her every day more! How the devil is he so like? I can hardly bear to see him.' He bent his eyes to the ground, and walked moodily in. There was a restless, anxious expression in his countenance. I had never remarked there before; and he looked sparer in person. His daughter-in-law, on perceiving him through the window, immediately escaped to the kitchen, so that I remained alone.
‘I'm glad to see you out of doors again, Mr. Lockwood,' he said, in reply to my greeting; ‘from selfish motives partly: I don't think I could readily supply your loss in this desolation. I've wondered more than once what brought you here.' ‘An idle whim, I fear, sir,' was my answer; ‘or else an idle whim is going to spirit me away. I shall set out for London next week; and I must give you warning that I feel no disposition to retain Thrushcross Grange beyond the twelve months I agreed to rent it. I believe I shall not live there any more.' ‘Oh, indeed; you're tired of being banished from the world, are you?' he said. ‘But if you be coming to plead off paying for a place you won't occupy, your journey is useless: I never relent in exacting my due from any one.' ‘I'm coming to plead off nothing about it,' I exclaimed, considerably irritated. ‘Should you wish it, I'll settle with you now,' and I drew my note-book from my pocket. ‘No, no,' he replied, coolly; ‘you'll leave sufficient behind to cover your debts, if you fail to return: I'm not in such a hurry. Sit down and take your dinner with us; a guest that is safe from repeating his visit can generally be made welcome. Catherine! bring the things in: where are you?' Catherine reappeared, bearing a tray of knives and forks.
‘You may get your dinner with Joseph,' muttered Heathcliff, aside, ‘and remain in the kitchen till he is gone.' She obeyed his directions very punctually: perhaps she had no temptation to transgress. Living among clowns and misanthropists, she probably cannot appreciate a better class of people when she meets them.
With Mr. Heathcliff, grim and saturnine, on the one hand, and Hareton, absolutely dumb, on the other, I made a somewhat cheerless meal, and bade adieu early. I would have departed by the back way, to get a last glimpse of Catherine and annoy old Joseph; but Hareton received orders to lead up my horse, and my host himself escorted me to the door, so I could not fulfil my wish.
‘How dreary life gets over in that house!' I reflected, while riding down the road. ‘What a realisation of something more romantic than a fairy tale it would have been for Mrs. Linton Heathcliff, had she and I struck up an attachment, as her good nurse desired, and migrated together into the stirring atmosphere of the town!'
