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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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Support the Monkey! Tell All your Friends and Teachers |
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251 “And why didn’t Mamma speak to me about him?” persevered the child. “She often talked of Uncle, and I learnt to love him long ago. How am I to love Papa? I don’t know him.” “Oh, all children love their parents,” I said. “Your mother, perhaps, thought you would want to be with him if she mentioned him often to you. Let us make haste. An early ride on such a beautiful morning is much preferable to an hour’s more sleep.” “Is she to go with us,” he demanded, “the little girl I saw yesterday?” “Not now,” replied I. “Is Uncle?” he continued. “No, I shall be your companion there,” I said. Linton sank back on his pillow, and fell into a brown study. “I won’t go without Uncle,” he cried at length; “I can’t tell where you mean to take me.” I attempted to persuade him of the naughtiness of showing reluctance to meet his father; still he obstinately resisted any progress towards dressing, and I had to call for my master’s assistance in coaxing him out of bed. The poor thing was finally got off, with several delusive assurances that his absence should be short, that Mr. Edgar and Cathy would visit him, and other promises, equally ill-founded, which I invented and reiterated at intervals throughout the way. The pure heather-scented air, and the bright sunshine, and the gentle canter of Minny, relieved his despondency, after a while. He began to put questions concerning his new home, and its inhabitants, with greater interest and liveliness. “Is Wuthering Heights as pleasant a place as Thrushcross Grange?” he inquired, turning to take a last glance into the valley, |
