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Chapter 20
ThenIamnotlikehim,amI?"
"Notmuch,"Ianswered:notamorsel,Ithought,surveyingwithregretthewhitecomplexionandslimframeofmycompanion,andhislargelanguideyes—hismother’seyes,savethat,unlessamorbidtouchinesskindledthemamomenttheyhadnotavestigeofhersparklingspirit.
"Howstrangethatheshouldnevercometoseemammaandme!"hemurmured."Hasheeverseenme?Ifhehas,Imusthavebeenababy.Iremembernotasinglethingabouthim!"
"Why,MasterLinton,"saidI,"threehundredmilesisagreatdistance;andtenyearsseemverydifferentinlengthtoagrown-uppersoncomparedwithwhattheydotoyou.ItisprobableMr.Heathcliffproposedgoingfromsummertosummer,butneverfoundaconvenientopportunity;andnowitistoolate.Donottroublehimwithquestionsonthesubject:itwilldisturbhim,fornogood."
Theboywasfullyoccupiedwithhisowncogitationsfortheremainderoftheride,tillwehaltedbeforethefarmhousegardengate.Iwatchedtocatchhisimpressionsinhiscountenance.Hesurveyedthecarvedfrontandlow-browedlattices,thestragglinggooseberrybushesandcrookedfirs,withsolemnintentness,andthenshookhishead:hisprivatefeelingsentirelydisapprovedoftheexteriorofhisnewabode.Buthehadsensetopostponecomplaining:theremightbecompensationwithin.Beforehedismounted,Iwentandopenedthedoor.Itwashalf-pastsix;thefamilyhadjustfinishedbreakfast;theservantwasclearingandwipingdownthetable.
