“Catherine is coming, dear master!” I whispered; “she is alive and well; and will be here, I hope, tonight.”

I trembled at the first effects of this intelligence: he half rose up, looked eagerly round the apartment, and then sank back in a swoon. As soon as he recovered, I related our compulsory visit, and detention at the Heights. I said Heathcliff forced me to go in: which was not quite true. I uttered as little as possible against Linton; nor did I describe all his father’s brutal conduct⁠—my intentions being to add no bitterness, if I could help it, to his already overflowing cup.