son a decidedly shabby upper garment, and, erecting
himself before the blaze, looked down on me from the
corner of his eyes, for all the world as if there were some
mortal feud unavenged between us. I began to doubt
whether he were a servant or not. His dress and speech
were both rude, entirely devoid of the superiority ob-
servable in Mr. and Mrs. Heathcliff. His thick brown
curls were rough and uncultivated, his whiskers en-
croached bearishly over his cheeks, and his hands were
embrowned like those of a common labourer. Still his
bearing was free, almost haughty, and he showed none
of a domestic's assiduity in attending on the lady of the
house. In the absence of clear proofs of his condition, I
deemed it best to abstain from noticing his curious
conduct; and, five minutes afterwards, the entrance of
 
Heathcliff relieved me, in some measure, from my un-
comfortable state.

     "You see, sir, I am come, according to promise," I
exclaimed, assuming the cheerful; "and I fear I shall be
weather-bound for half an hour, if you can afford me
shelter during that space."

     "Half an hour?" he said, shaking the white flakes
from his clothes. "I wonder you should select the thick
of a snowstorm to ramble about in. Do you know that
you run a risk of being lost in the marshes? People fa-
miliar with these moors often miss their road on such
evenings; and I can tell you there is no chance of
a change at present."

     "Perhaps I can get a guide among your lads, and he
might stay at the Grange till morning. Could you spare
me one?"

     "No, I could not."

     "Oh, indeed! Well, then, I must trust to my own sa-
gacity."

     "Umph!"

     "Are you going to mak th' tea?" demanded he of
the shabby coat, shifting his ferocious gaze from me to
the young lady.
 
     "Is he to have any?" she asked, appealing to Heath-
cliff.

     "Get it ready, will you?" was the answer, uttered so
savagely that I started. The tone in which the words
were said revealed a genuine bad nature. I no longer felt
inclined to call Heathcliff a capital fellow. When the
preparations were finished, he invited me with---"Now,
sir, bring forward your chair." And we all, including
the rustic youth, drew round the table, an austere si-
lence prevailing while we discussed our meal.

     I thought, if I had caused the cloud, it was my duty to
make an effort to dispel it. They could not every day sit
so grim and taciturn; and it was impossible, however
ill-tempered they might be, that the universal scowl they
wore was their everyday countenance.

     "It is strange," I began, in the interval of swallowing
one cup of tea and receiving another---"it is strange
how custom can mould our tastes and ideas. Many
could not imagine the existence of happiness in a life
of such complete exile from the world as you spend,
Mr. Heathcliff; yet, I'll venture to say, that surrounded by your
family, and with your amiable lady as the presiding genius over
your home and heart--"

     "My amiable lady!" he interrupted, with an almost diabolical
sneer on his face.  "Where is she--my amiable lady?"

     "Mrs. Heathcliff, your wife, I mean."
 
     "Well, yes--Oh! you would intimate that her spirit has taken
the post of ministering angel, and guards the fortunes of Wuthering
Heights, even when her body is gone.  Is that it?"

     Perceiving myself in a blunder, I attempted to correct it.  I might
have seen there was too great a disparity between the ages of the
parties to make it likely that they were man and wife.  One was about
forty, a period of mental vigour at which men seldom cherish 
the delusion of being married for love, by girls:  that dream is reserved
for the solace of our decling years.  The other did not look seventeen.

     Then it flashed upon me--"The clown at my elbow, who is
drinking his tea out of a basin and eating his bread with unwashed 
hands, may be her husband.  Heathcliff, junior, of course.  Here is
the consequence of being buried alive:  she has thrown herself away
upon that boor, from sheer ignorance that better individuals existed!
A sad pity--I must beware how I cause her to regret her choice."

     The last reflection may seem conceited; it was not.  My neighbour
struck me as bordering on repulsive.  I knew, through experience,
that I was tolerably attractive.