“He had a son, it seems?”
“Yes, he had one—he is dead.”
“And that young lady, Mrs. Heathcliff, is his widow?”
“Yes.”
“Where did she come from originally?”
“Why, sir, she is my late master’s daughter: Catherine Linton was her maiden name. I nursed her, poor thing! I did wish Mr. Heathcliff would remove here, and then we might have been together again.”
“What! Catherine Linton?” I exclaimed, astonished. But a minute’s reflection convinced me it was not my ghostly Catherine. “Then,” I continued, “my predecessor’s name was Linton?”
“It was.”
“And who is that Earnshaw: Hareton Earnshaw, who lives with Mr. Heathcliff? Are they relations?”
“No; he is the late Mrs. Linton’s nephew.”