Wuthering Heights
by Emily Bronte
CHAPTER I
1801. - I have just returned from a visit to my landlord - the
solitary neighbour that I shall be troubled with. This is
certainly a beautiful country! In all England, I do not believe
that I could have fixed on a situation so completely removed from
the stir of society. A perfect misanthropist's heaven: and Mr.
Heathcliff and I are such a suitable pair to divide the desolation
between us. A capital fellow! He little imagined how my heart
warmed towards him when I beheld his black eyes withdraw so
suspiciously under their brows, as I rode up, and when his fingers
sheltered themselves, with a jealous resolution, still further in
his waistcoat, as I announced my name.
'Mr. Heathcliff?' I said.
A nod was the answer.
'Mr. Lockwood, your new tenant, sir. I do myself the honour of
calling as soon as possible after my arrival, to express the hope
that I have not inconvenienced you by my perseverance in soliciting
the occupation of Thrushcross Grange: I heard yesterday you had
had some thoughts - '
'Thrushcross Grange is my own, sir,' he interrupted, wincing. 'I
should not allow any one to inconvenience me, if I could hinder it
- walk in!'
The 'walk in' was uttered with closed teeth, and expressed the
sentiment, 'Go to the Deuce:' even the gate over which he leant
manifested no sympathising movement to the words; and I think that
circumstance determined me to accept the invitation: I felt
interested in a man who seemed more exaggeratedly reserved than
myself.
When he saw my horse's breast fairly pushing the barrier, he did
put out his hand to unchain it, and then sullenly preceded me up
the causeway, calling, as we entered the court, - 'Joseph, take Mr.
Lockwood's horse; and bring up some wine.'
'Here we have the whole establishment of domestics, I suppose,' was
the reflection suggested by this compound order. 'No wonder the
grass grows up between the flags, and cattle are the only hedge-
cutters.'
Joseph was an elderly, nay, an old man: very old, perhaps, though
hale and sinewy. 'The Lord help us!' he soliloquised in an
undertone of peevish displeasure, while relieving me of my horse:
looking, meantime, in my face so sourly that I charitably
conjectured he must have need of divine aid to digest his dinner,
