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Good evening and welcome to the sleepy bookshelf, where we put down our worries from the day and pick up a good book.

I'm your host, Elizabeth, and it is lovely to have you here with me this evening.

Tonight we are continuing with Wuthering Heights.

Before we do though, let's take a moment to breathe together and let go of the day.

Begin by breathing in through your nose, slow and steady, and out through your mouth.

As you inhale, try to picture gathering up the loose pieces of the day.

Conversations, lists, moments of tension perhaps, like puzzle pieces scattered around you.

And with your exhale, let them drift away, like dust in sunlight, floating beyond your reach.

Feel what remains now.

The weight of your body.

The quiet hum of your breath.

A peace of having nothing left to hold.

Mr. Lockwood was on his way from London to a friend's house in the north, when he realised he was only 14 miles to Gimmerton.

As he had still paid his rent on the Grange till October, he decided to stay the night there instead of at an inn.

When he arrived, an older woman said Mrs. Dean was now at Wuthering Heights, and was astonished to finally meet the current master of the Grange.

She flew into action, preparing the house, and Mr. Lockwood told her he would go for a walk and return later.

He arrived at Wuthering Heights to a very changed house.

All the doors and windows were open,

and flowers grew around the nearby fruit trees.

A young couple were seated in one window, and he saw a beautiful woman with golden curls,

...