Wuthering Heights / Грозовой перевал. Уровень 3

But I noticed that she was slender and beautiful, with curly blond hair. I could not remember when I had last seen such a beauty. But our conversation did not go far. Meanwhile, the shabby young man was standing

in front of the fireplace. He looked down on me from the corner of his eyes. Was there some mortal feud between us? No. Is he a servant here? His dress and speech were both rude; his thick brown curls and whiskers were rough and uncultivated, and his hands were brown like those of a common worker.

Five minutes afterwards the entrance of Heathcliff relieved me from my uncomfortable thoughts.

'You see, sir, I have come, according to promise!' I exclaimed; 'and I fear I shall stay here for half an hour, if you afford me shelter.'

'Half an hour?' he said. He shook the white flakes from his clothes; 'I wonder you selected the snow-storm to go out. Do you know that you risk? You may be lost in the marshes.'

'Perhaps I can get a guide among your lads. He might stay at the Grange till morning – could you spare me one?'

'No, I can't.

'

'Oh, indeed! Well, then, I must trust to my own luck.'

'Umph! Are you going to drink tea?' demanded he of the shabby coat, which was shifting his ferocious gaze from me to the young lady.

'Will he drink too?' she asked Heathcliff.

'Get it ready, will you?' was the answer.

It uttered so savagely that I started. The tone in which the words were said revealed a genuine bad nature. I no longer felt inclined to call Heathcliff a good fellow.

When the preparations were finished, he invited me with – 'Now, sir, bring forward your chair.' And we all, including the rustic youth, drew round the table in silence.

I decided to begin a conversation in order to dispel cloud. They cannot sit so grim every day!

I learnt soon that Mrs. Heathcliff wasn't Heathcliff's wife, but his daughter-in-law, and this clown next to me wasn't his son – or, indeed, her husband, either.

'My name is Hareton Earnshaw,' the youth growled; 'and I advise you to respect it!'

'I've shown no disrespect,' was my reply.

I laughed internally at the dignity with which he announced himself. I began to feel out of place[5 - out of place – не на своём месте] in that pleasant family circle.

'I don't think it possible for me to get home now without a guide,' I exclaimed. 'The roads will be buried. I can scarcely distinguish a foot in advance.