21 Cont. Wuthering Heights - Abridged By Stephanie Poppins

Hello.

Welcome to Sleep Stories with Steph,

Your go-to romantic podcast that guarantees you a calm and entertaining transition into a great night's sleep.

Come with me as we immerse ourselves in a romantic journey to a time long since forgotten.

Emily Bronte was born in Yorkshire in 1818 and along with her brother and sisters Anne and Charlotte,

Wrote from childhood onwards.

Wuthering Heights is the story she is best remembered for.

But before we begin,

Let's take a moment to focus on where we are now.

Take a deep breath in through your nose and let it out with a long sigh.

Now close your eyes and feel yourself sink deeper into the support beneath you.

It is time to relax and fully let go.

There is nothing you need to be doing now and nowhere you need to go.

Happy listening.

Chapter 21 Continued Heathcliff watched the couple walking past the window,

Continued Nellie.

Earnshaw had his countenance completely averted from his companion.

He seemed studying the familiar landscape with a stranger's and an artist's interest.

Catherine took a sly look at him.

Expressing small admiration.

Then she turned her attention to seeking out objects of amusement for herself and tripped merrily on,

Lilting a tune to supply the lack of conversation.

I've tied his tongue,

Observed Heathcliff.

He'll not venture a single syllable all the time.

Nellie,

You recollect me at his age?

Nay,

Some years younger.

Did I ever look so stupid,

So gormless as Joseph calls it?

Worse,

I replied,

Because you were more sullen with it.

I have a pleasure in him,

Heathcliff continued,

Reflecting aloud.

He has satisfied my expectations.

If he was a born fool,

I should not enjoy it half so much.

But Hairton's no fool.

I can sympathise with his feelings,

Having felt them myself.

I know what he suffers now.

It's merely a beginning of what he shall suffer,

Though.

And he'll never be able to emerge from his coarseness and ignorance.

I've got him faster than his scoundrel of a father secured me,

And lower,

For he takes pride in his brutishness.

I've taught him to scorn everything extra-animal as silly and weak.

Do you think Hindley would be proud of his son if he could see him?

Almost as proud as I am of mine.

But there's this difference.

One is gold put to the use of paving stones,

And the other is tin polished to ape a surface of silver.

Mine has nothing valuable about it.

Yet I shall have the merit of making it go as far as poor stuff can go.

The best of it is,

Hairton's damnably fond of me.

You'll own I've outmatched Hindley there.

If the dead villain could rise from his grave to abuse me for his offspring's wrongs,

I should have the fun of seeing the said offspring fighting back again,

Indignant he should dare to rail at the one friend he has in the world.

At this,

Heathcliff chuckled a fiendish laugh.

I made no reply because I saw he expected none.

Meantime,

Our young companion,

Who sat too removed from us to hear what was being said,

Began to invent symptoms of uneasiness.

Probably repenting he denied himself the treat of Catherine's society,

For fear of a little fatigue.

Little Linton's father remarked the restless glances wandering to the window,

And the hand he resolutely extended towards his cap.

Get up,

You idle boy,

He exclaimed with assumed heartiness.

Away after them,

They're just at the corner by the side of the hives.

Linton gathered his energies and left the hive.

The lattice was open,

And as he stepped out,

I heard Catherine inquiring of Hayton what was the inscription over the door.

Hayton stared up and scratched his head like a true clown.

It's some damnable writing,

He answered.

I cannot read it.

Can't read it,

Cried Catherine.

I can read it,

It's English.

But I want to know why it's there.

At this,

Linton giggled.

The first appearance of mirth he'd exhibited.

He does not know his letters,

He said to his cousin.

Could you believe in the existence of such a colossal dunce?

Is he all he should be,

Asked Miss Cathy seriously.

Or is he simple,

Not right?

I've questioned him twice now,

And each time he looks so stupid,

I think he doesn't understand anything.

I can hardly understand him,

I'm sure.

Linton then repeated his laugh and glanced at Hayton tauntingly,

Who didn't seem quite clear of comprehension at that moment.

There's nothing the matter,

But laziness is their own show,

Linton said.

My cousin fancies you're an idiot.

There you experienced the consequence of scorning book learning,

As you would say.

Have you noticed,

Catherine,

His frightful Yorkshire pronunciation?

Well,

Where the devil's the use of it,

Growled Hayton,

More ready in answering his daily companion.

He was about to enlarge further,

But the two youngsters broke into a noisy fit of merriment.

My giddy miss being delighted to discover she might turn his strange talk to a matter of amusement.

Where is the use of the devil in that sentence?

Did you,

Linton?

Papa told you not to say any bad words,

And you can't open your mouth without one.

Do try to behave like a gentleman,

Hayton,

Do.

Thou wert more of a lass than a lad.

I feel thee this minute,

I will.

I feel thee this minute,

Retorted the angry boar,

Retreating while his face burned with mingled rage and mortification.

For Hayton was conscious of being insulted and embarrassed,

How to resent him.

Mr Heathcliff,

Having overheard the conversation,

Smiled when he saw him go,

But immediately afterwards cast a look of singular aversion on the flippant pair,

Who remained chattering in the doorway.

At this point,

I began to dislike Linton and excuse his father in some measure of holding him cheap.

We stayed there till the afternoon.

I couldn't tear Miss Cathy away sooner,

But happily my master had not quitted his apartment and remained ignorant of our prolonged absence.

When at last we walked back home,

Cathy got it into her head I was prejudiced against them.

Aha,

She cried.

You take papa's side,

Ellen.

You're partial,

I know,

Or else you wouldn't have cheated me So many years into the notion,

Linton lived a long way away from here.

I'm extremely angry.

Only I'm so pleased I can't show it.

But you must hold your tongue about my uncle.

He's my uncle,

Remember?

Uncle Heathcliff.

And I'll scold papa for quarrelling with him.

And so little Cathy ran on,

Till I relinquished the endeavour to convince her of her mistake.

She did not mention the visit that night.

Because she couldn't see her father.

But next day it all came out.

And still I was not altogether sorry.

I thought the burden of directing and warning would be more efficiently borne by him than me.

But Mr Linton was too timid in giving satisfactory reasons for his wish that she should shun connection with the household of the Heights.

And Catherine liked good reasons for every restraint.

Papa,

She exclaimed after the morning salutation.

Guess whom I saw yesterday on my walk in the moors?

Papa,

You've started.

You've not done right,

Have you now?

I saw.

.

.

Then she gave a faithful account of our excursion.

And my master,

Though he cast more than one reproachful look at me,

Said nothing till she concluded.

He drew her to him and asked if she knew why he'd concealed Linton's near neighbourhood from her.

Could she think it was to deny her a pleasure that she might harmlessly enjoy?

It was because you disliked Mr Heathcliff,

Cathy answered.

Then you believe I care more for my own feelings than yours,

Cathy?

He said.

No,

It was not because I disliked Mr Heathcliff.

But because Mr Heathcliff dislikes me.

And he is a most diabolical man,

Delighting to wrong and ruin those he hates if they give him the slightest opportunity.

I knew you could not keep up an acquaintance with your cousin without being brought into contact with him.

And I knew he would detest you on my account.

So for your own good and nothing else,

I took precautions you should not see Linton again.

I meant to explain this sometime as you grow older and I'm sorry I delayed it.

But Mr Heathcliff was quite cordial,

Papa,

Observed Catherine,

Not at all convinced.

And he didn't object to our seeing each other.

He said I might come to his house when I pleased.

Only I must not tell you because you'd quarrelled with him and you would not forgive him for marrying Aunt Isabella.

And you won't,

Will you?

You are the one to be blamed.

He's willing to let us be friends,

At least Linton and I anyway.

But you,

Papa,

Are not.