Грозовой перевал

           Atothertimes,shewouldturnpetulantlyaway,andhideherfaceinherhands,orevenpushhimoffangrily;andthenhetookcaretoletheralone,forhewascertainofdoingnogood.

           Gimmertonchapelbellswerestillringing;andthefull,mellowflowofthebeckinthevalleycamesoothinglyontheear.Itwasasweetsubstitutefortheyetabsentmurmurofthesummerfoliage,whichdrownedthatmusicabouttheGrangewhenthetreeswereinleaf.AtWutheringHeightsitalwayssoundedonquietdaysfollowingagreatthaworaseasonofsteadyrain.AndofWutheringHeightsCatherinewasthinkingasshelistened:thatis,ifshethoughtorlistenedatall;butshehadthevague,distantlookImentionedbefore,whichexpressednorecognitionofmaterialthingseitherbyearoreye.

           "There’saletterforyou,Mrs.Linton,"Isaidgentlyinsertingitinonehandthatrestedonherknee."Youmustreaditimmediately,becauseitwantsananswer.ShallIbreaktheseal?""Yes,"sheanswered,withoutalteringthedirectionofhereyes.Iopenedit—itwasveryshort."Now,"Icontinued,"readit."Shedrewawayherhand,andletitfall.Ireplaceditinherlap,andstoodwaitingtillitshouldpleasehertoglancedown;butthatmovementwassolongdelayedthatatlastIresumed:

           "MustIreadit,ma’am?ItisfromMr.Heathcliff."

           Therewasastartandatroubledgleamofrecollection,andastruggletoarrangeherideas.