Before I came to live here, she commenced⁠—waiting no farther invitation to her story⁠—I was almost always at Wuthering Heights; because my mother had nursed Mr. Hindley Earnshaw, that was Hareton’s father, and I got used to playing with the children: I ran errands too, and helped to make hay, and hung about the farm ready for anything that anybody would set me to. One fine summer morning⁠—it was the beginning of harvest, I remember⁠— Mr.