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253 “Why, Master Linton,” said I, “three hundred miles is a great distance; and ten years seem very different in length to a grown- up person compared with what they do to you. It is probable Mr. Heathcliff proposed going, from summer to summer, but never found a convenient opportunity; and now it is too late. Don’t trouble him with questions on the subject: if will disturb him for no good.” The boy was fully occupied with his own cogitations for the remainder of the ride, till we halted before the farmhouse garden gate. I watched to catch his impressions in his countenance. He surveyed the carved front and low-browed lattices, the straggling gooseberry bushes and crooked firs, with solemn intentness, and then shook his head: his private feelings entirely disapproved of the exterior of his new abode. But he had sense to postpone complaining: there might be compensation within. Before he dismounted, I went and opened the door. It was half- past six; the family had just finished breakfast; the servant was clearing and wiping down the table: Joseph stood by his master’s chair telling some tale concerning a lame horse; and Hareton was preparing for the hay-field. “Hallo, Nelly!” cried Mr. Heathcliff, when he saw me. “I feared I should have to come down and fetch my property myself. You’ve brought it, have you? Let us see what we can make of it.” He got up and strode to the door. Hareton and Joseph followed in gaping curiosity. Poor Linton ran a frightened eye over the faces of the three. “Sure-ly,” said Joseph after a grave inspection, “he’s swopped wi’ ye, maister, an’ yon’s his lass!” Heathcliff, having stared his son into an ague of confusion, |