Wuthering Bites by Sarah Gray Page B

child when Miss Cathy put her head in and whispered—
    â€˜Are you alone, Nelly?’
    â€˜Yes, miss,’ I replied, thinking I was.
    She entered and approached the hearth. ‘Where’s Heathcliff?’
    â€˜I don’t know. About his work in the stable, I suppose.’
    There followed another long pause, during which I perceived a trickle of tears from Catherine’s cheek to the flag-stones. ‘Oh, dear!’ she cried at last. ‘I’m very unhappy!’
    â€˜A pity,’ I observed, still rocking the boy.
    â€˜Nelly, will you keep a secret for me?’ She knelt down by me, lifting her winsome eyes to my face.
    â€˜Is it worth keeping?’ I inquired, less sulkily.
    â€˜Yes, and it worries me, and I have to let it out! I want to know what I should do. Today, Edgar Linton has asked me to marry him, and I’ve given him an answer. Now, before I tell you whether I consented or not, I want you to tell me which it should have been.’
    â€˜Really, Miss Catherine, how can I know?’ I set the sleeping boy before the fire on an old blanket where I could keep an eye on him. ‘Considering the exhibition you performed in front of him this afternoon, he must be either hopelessly stupid or a venturesome fool to still want you. You can be as mean as a snake some days, miss. And that’s God’s honest truth.’ I raised a hand in oath. ‘Not that all in this cursed house are not as mad as May butter.’
    â€˜If you talk like that, I won’t tell you any more,’ she returned, peevishly, rising to her feet. ‘I accepted him, Nelly. Be quick, and say whether I was wrong!’
    I sat in my place again. ‘You accepted him!’ I cried. The fat’s in the fire now, I thought with a sinking heart. Heathcliff will be neither to hold nor to bind. ‘Then what good is it discussing the matter if you’ve already told Linton you’ll marry him?’
    â€˜But you haven’t said whether I should have done it!’ she exclaimed, rubbing her hands together and frowning.
    A shiver ran down my spine as I wondered what would become of us all now. But remembering my place, I tried to keep my tone of voice properly servile and said, ‘There are many things to be considered before that question can be answered properly. First and foremost, do you love Mr. Edgar?’
    â€˜Of course I do,’ she answered.
    â€˜Why do you love him, Miss Cathy?’
    â€˜I do—that’s sufficient.’
    Foxes love chickens and devour as many as they can catch. Why did I fear Linton might suffer the same fate in the hands of Miss Cathy? ‘You must say why.’
    â€˜Well, because he is handsome, and pleasant to be with.’
    â€˜Bad!’ was my commentary. ‘Faces sag and hair slips away. If he takes after his kin, he’ll be bald as Dame Setter by the time he’s forty.’
    â€˜And because he is young and cheerful.’
    â€˜Bad, still. If you think he will not age, you are mistaken. That is, if he isn’t sucked dry by St. Swithun’s Day!’
    She ignored my commentary. ‘And because he loves me.’
    I folded my arms over my bosom. ‘Indifferent. You are the prettiest girl for three days’ ride.’
    â€˜Only three days?’
    â€˜I’ve never been farther than that from my hearth, so how would I know if any be lovelier a day farther off?’
    Miss Cathy pouted. ‘And he will be rich, and I shall like to be the greatest woman of the neighborhood, and I shall be proud of having such a husband.’
    â€˜Worst of all,’ I groaned. ‘And now say how you love him.’
    â€˜As everybody loves—You’re silly, Nelly.’
    â€˜Not at all. I am the most sensible person I know.’ I pointed at her. ‘Answer.’
    â€˜I love the ground under his feet, and the air over his head, and everything he touches, and every word he says. I love all