Hindley returned home for the funeral, and to everyone’s astonishment, he brought a wife with him. He never revealed her background or where they had met; it was likely she had neither wealth nor a high social standing to recommend her, or he surely would have informed his father of the marriage earlier.
The new Mrs. Earnshaw, Frances, was a delicate and somewhat frivolous woman. While she seemed delighted by the house at first, the funeral preparations and the presence of mourners terrified her. She became quite hysterical, trembling at the sight of black clothing and confessing a deep-seated fear of death. I noticed she grew breathless after climbing the stairs and suffered from a persistent cough, but at the time, I felt little sympathy for her. We locals rarely take to outsiders until they have proven themselves.
Three years away had changed Hindley considerably. He had grown thinner, his manner of dress was more sophisticated, and his speech had altered. On the very day of his return, he relegated Joseph and me to the back-kitchen, claiming the rest of the house for himself and his wife. Despite his more polished appearance, his character had soured. Encouraged by his wife’s spontaneous dislike of Heathcliff, Hindley’s old hatred resurfaced with a vengeance. He drove the boy from the family circle, forced him to stop his lessons with the curate, and compelled him to labor outdoors as a common farmhand.
Heathcliff endured this degradation surprisingly well at first, largely because Catherine remained his constant companion. She taught him what she learned and worked alongside him in the fields. The two of them grew up as wild as savages, and Hindley was entirely indifferent to their behavior as long as they stayed out of his sight. They frequently ran away to the moors in the morning and remained there all day, treating their subsequent punishments with total contempt. No matter how many chapters of the Bible Joseph forced Catherine to memorize or how many times he beat Heathcliff, the children forgot their troubles the moment they were together again. I often cried to see them growing more reckless by the day, yet I lacked the authority to intervene.
One Sunday evening, they were banished from the sitting room for some minor offense. When I went to call them to supper, they had vanished. Hindley, in a fit of temper, ordered the house to be bolted and swore that no one should let them in that night. Too anxious to sleep, I waited by the window until I heard footsteps and saw the glimmer of a lantern. I hurried outside to meet them, only to find Heathcliff standing alone.
"Where is Miss Catherine?" I cried, startled.
"At Thrushcross Grange," he replied, "and I would have stayed too, but they didn't have the manners to ask me."
He explained that they had run to the Grange to see how the Lintons spent their Sundays. They had expected to find the children being lectured or shivering in corners, but instead, they witnessed a world of unbelievable luxury. Peering through the drawing-room window, they saw a splendid room with crimson carpets and a magnificent gold-bordered ceiling. Yet, despite their surroundings, the Linton children were miserable. Isabella was screaming in a corner, and Edgar was weeping over a puppy they had nearly pulled in two during a quarrel.
"The idiots!" Heathcliff remarked. "We laughed at the spoiled things. I wouldn't trade my life here for Edgar Linton’s, not for a thousand lives—not even if it meant I could get my revenge on Hindley and Joseph."
Their laughter, however, alerted the Lintons. As they tried to flee, the family bulldog, Skulker, caught Catherine by the ankle. Heathcliff tried to fight the beast off, but the servants arrived and dragged them inside. When the Lintons saw Heathcliff, they were horrified by his rough language and "gipsy" appearance, even suggesting he should be thrown into the cellar. However, once they recognized Catherine as Miss Earnshaw, their attitude shifted instantly.
While they treated Heathcliff with nothing but contempt and eventually ordered him to leave, they pampered Catherine. They washed her feet, gave her cakes, and brushed her hair. Heathcliff watched through the window, noting how Catherine seemed to enjoy the attention, her face glowing with a new kind of spirit.
"She is immeasurably superior to them, Nelly, isn't she?" he asked me.
"This business will bring more trouble than you realize," I answered, putting out the light.
My prediction proved true. The adventure made Hindley furious. The following day, Mr. Linton visited Wuthering Heights to lecture the young master on his sister's wild upbringing. Consequently, Hindley threatened to expel Heathcliff the moment he spoke another word to Catherine, and the household prepared for her return, determined to transform the wild girl into a proper young lady.