Chapter 22
Summerdrewtoanend,andearlyautumn:itwaspastMichaelmas,buttheharvestwaslatethatyear,andafewofourfieldswerestilluncleared.Mr.Lintonandhisdaughterwouldfrequentlywalkoutamongthereapers;atthecarryingofthelastsheaves,theystayedtilldusk,andtheeveninghappeningtobechillanddamp,mymastercaughtabadcold,thatsettledobstinatelyonhislungs,andconfinedhimindoorsthroughoutthewholeofthewinter,nearlywithoutintermission.
PoorCathy,frightenedfromherlittleromance,hadbeenconsiderablysadderanddullersinceitsabandonment;andherfatherinsistedonherreadingless,andtakingmoreexercise.Shehadhiscompanionshipnolonger;Iesteemeditadutytosupplyitslack,asmuchaspossible,withmine:aninefficientsubstitute;forIcouldonlysparetwoorthreehours,frommynumerousdiurnaloccupations,tofollowherfootsteps,andthenmysocietywasobviouslylessdesirablethanhis.
OnanafternooninOctober,orthebeginningofNovember—afreshwateryafternoon,whentheturfandpathswererustlingwithmoist,witheredleaves,andthecold,blueskywashalfhiddenbyclouds—darkgreystreamers,rapidlymountingfromthewest,andbodingabundantrain—Irequestedmyyoungladytoforegoherramble,becauseIwascertainofshowers.Sherefused;andIunwillinglydonnedacloak,andtookmyumbrellatoaccompanyheronastrolltothebottomofthepark:aformalwalkwhichshegenerallyaffectediflow-spirited—andthatsheinvariablywaswhenMr.