nothing else to produce such humiliation. He made several efforts to obey, but his little strength was annihilated for the time, and he fell back again with a moan. Mr. Heathcliff advanced, and lifted him to lean against a ridge of turf.

‘Now,’ said he, with curbed ferocity, ‘I’m getting angry and if you don’t command that paltry spirit of yours - DAMN you! get up directly!’

‘I will, father,’ he panted. ‘Only, let me alone, or I shall faint. I’ve done as you wished, I’m sure. Catherine will tell you that I - that I - have been cheerful. Ah! keep by me, Catherine; give me your hand.’

‘Take mine,’ said his father; ‘stand on your feet. There now - she’ll lend you her arm: that’s