tion about the candles, when a sense of my folly compelled me to return, and mutter:
"A person from Gimmerton wishes to see you, ma'am."
"What does he want?" asked Mrs. Linton.
"I did not question him," I answered.
"Well, close the curtains, Nelly," she said; "and bring up tea. I'll be back again directly."
She quitted the apartment; Mr. Edgar inquired carelessly, who it was?
"Some one the mistress does not expect," I replied. "That Heathcliff, you recollect him, sir, who used to live at Mr. Earnshaw's."
"What, the gipsy—the plough-boy?" he cried. "Why did you not say so to Catherine?"
"Hush! you must not call him by those names, master," I said. "She'd be sadly grieved to hear you. She was nearly heartbroken when he ran off; I guess his return will make a jubilee to her."
