Wuthering Heights

his humour took that turn. He—probably swayed by prudential
consideration of the folly of offending a good tenant—relaxed a little
in the laconic style of chipping off his pronouns and auxiliary verbs,
and introduced what he supposed would be a subject of interest to me,—a
discourse on the advantages and disadvantages of my present place of
retirement. I found him very intelligent on the topics we touched; and
before I went home, I was encouraged so far as to volunteer another
visit to-morrow. He evidently wished no repetition of my intrusion. I
shall go, notwithstanding. It is astonishing how sociable I feel myself
compared with him.




CHAPTER II


Yesterday afternoon set in misty and cold. I had half a mind to spend
it by my study fire, instead of wading through heath and mud to
Wuthering Heights. On coming up from dinner, however, (N.B.—I dine
between twelve and one o’clock; the housekeeper, a matronly lady, taken
as a fixture along with the house, could not, or would not, comprehend
my request that I might be served at five)—on mounting the stairs with
this lazy intention, and stepping into the room, I saw a servant-girl
on her knees surrounded by brushes and coal-scuttles, and raising an