Chapter 4
Mrs. Penniman came to the entertainment accompanied by her niece; the Doctor, too, had promised to look in later in the evening. There was to be a good deal of dancing, and before it had gone very far, Marian Almond came up to Catherine, in company with a tall young man. She introduced the young man as a person who had a great desire to make our heroine's acquaintance, and as a cousin of Arthur Townsend, her future husband.
Marian made a long speech about Mr. Townsend's cousin, to whom she administered a tap with her fan before turning away to other cares. Catherine had not understood all that she said; she had succeeded, however, in catching the young man's last name, which appeared to be the same as that of Marian's little stockbroker. Catherine wondered what she ought to say, and what would be the consequences of her saying nothing. The consequences at present were very agreeable. Mr. Townsend, leaving her no time for embarrassment, began to talk with an easy smile, as if he had known her for a year.
“What a delightful party! What a charming house! What an interesting family! What a pretty girl your cousin is! ”
He looked straight into Catherine's eyes. She answered nothing; she only listened, and looked at him; and he, as if he expected no particular reply, went on to say many other things in the same comfortable and natural manner. Catherine, though she felt tongue-tied, was conscious of no embarrassment; it seemed proper that he should talk, and that she should simply look at him. What made it natural was that he was so handsome, or rather, as she phrased it to herself, so beautiful.
The music had been silent for a while, but it suddenly began again; and then he asked her if she would do him the honor of dancing with him. Even to this inquiry she gave no reply; she simply let him put his arm round her waist, and in a moment he was guiding her round the room to the music. When they paused she felt that she was red; and then, for some moments, she stopped looking at him. She fanned herself, and looked at the flowers that were painted on her fan. He asked her if she would begin again, and she hesitated to answer, still looking at the flowers.
“Does it make you dizzy? ” he asked in a tone of great kindness.
Then Catherine looked up at him; he was certainly beautiful, and not at all red. “Yes, ” she said; she hardly knew why, for dancing had never made her dizzy.
“Ah, well, in that case, ” said Mr. Townsend, “we will sit still and talk.”
He found a good place to sit—a charming place, a little sofa that seemed meant only for two persons. Meanwhile, the dancers increased in number, and people stood close in front of them, turning their backs, so that Catherine and her companion seemed alone and unobserved.
“We will talk, ” the young man had said; but he still did all the talking. Catherine leaned back in her place, with her eyes fixed upon him, smiling and thinking him very clever. He had features like young men in pictures; Catherine had never seen such features—so delicate, so well-formed and finished—among the young New Yorkers whom she passed in the streets and met at parties. He was tall and slim, but he looked extremely strong. He had never been at Mrs. Almond's before; he felt very much like a stranger; and it was very kind of Catherine to take pity on him. He was Arthur Townsend's cousin—not very near, several times removed—and Arthur had brought him to present him to the family. In fact, he was a great stranger in New York. It was his native place; but he had not been there for many years. He had been knocking about the world, and living in distant lands;he had only come back a month or two before. New York was very pleasant, only he felt lonely.
“You see, people forget you, ” he said, smiling at Catherine with his delightful gaze.
It seemed to Catherine that no one who had once seen him would ever forget him.
They sat there for some time. However, Marian Almond suddenly came pushing through the crowd, with a little ironical cry, when she found these young people still together, which made everyone turn round, and cost Catherine a conscious blush. Marian broke up their talk, and told Mr. Townsend to run away to her mother, who had been wishing for the last half-hour to introduce him to Mr. Almond.
“We shall meet again! ” he said to Catherine as he left her, and Catherine thought it a very original speech.
Her cousin took her by the arm, and made her walk about.“So, what do you think of Morris? ” the young girl asked eagerly.
“Is that his name? Oh, nothing particular! ” Catherine answered, lying for the first time in her life.
“I have half a mind to tell him that! ” cried Marian. “It will do him good. He's so terribly conceited.”
“Conceited? ” said Catherine, staring.
“So Arthur says, and Arthur knows about him.”
“Oh, don't tell him! ” Catherine begged her quietly.
“Don't tell him he's conceited? I have told him so a dozen times.”
At this profession of boldness Catherine looked down at her little companion in amazement. She supposed it was because Marian was going to be married that she took so much on herself; but she wondered too, whether, when she herself should become engaged, such exploits would be expected of her.
Half an hour later she saw her Aunt Penniman sitting at a window, having conversation with Morris Townsend. The young man was giving his impressions of the guests to her aunt; he was saying clever things, and Mrs. Penniman was smiling, as if she approved of them. It gave Catherine pleasure that he should talk with Mrs. Penniman, with whom she lived and whom she saw and talked with every day; that Aunt Lavinia should like him, and should not be shocked or startled by what he said, also appeared to the girl a positive sign.
One of the Almond boys then invited our heroine to dance, and for a quarter of an hour her feet at least were occupied. This time she was not dizzy; her head was very clear. Just when the dance was over, she found herself in the crowd face to face with her father. Dr. Sloper looked at his daughter's red gown with a little smile.
“Is it possible that this magnifi cent person is my child? ” he said.
Catherine vaguely sensed a tender insult in these words of her father's, but she did not think too much about them, for she always took his word for the truth, whether she completely understood or not.
“I am not magnificent, ” she said mildly, wishing that she had put on another dress.
“You look as if you had eighty thousand a year.”
“Well, so long as I haven't—” said Catherine, not knowing exactly what she meant by it.
“So long as you haven't you shouldn't look as if you had. Have you enjoyed your party? ”
Catherine hesitated a moment; and then, looking away,“I am rather tired, ” she murmured. I have said that this entertainment was the beginning of something important for Catherine. For the second time in her life she made a rather small lie. Catherine was not so easily tired as that. Such lying must mark a rather signifi cant date for someone such as her.
Nevertheless, in the carriage, as they drove home, she was as quiet as if fatigue had really overtaken her. Meanwhile, Dr. Sloper joked with his sister Lavinia.
“Who was the young man that was making love to you? He seemed completely devoted to you for half an hour.”
“The devotion was not to me, ” said Mrs. Penniman, blushing. “It was to Catherine; he talked to me of her.”
Catherine had been listening with all her ears. “Oh, Aunt Penniman! ” she exclaimed faintly.
“He is in love with this noble creature, then? ” the Doctor inquired humorously.
“I don't know that; but he admired her dress, ” answered Lavinia.
Catherine did not say to herself, “My dress only? ” Mrs. Penniman's announcement struck her as extremely flattering.
“You see, ” said her father, “he thinks you have eighty thousand a year.”
“I don't believe he thinks of that, ” said Mrs. Penniman. “He is too refi ned.”
“He must be tremendously refined not to think of that! ”
“Well, he is! ” Catherine exclaimed, before she knew it.
“I thought you had gone to sleep, ” her father answered.“The hour has come! ” he added to himself. “Lavinia is going to get up a romance for Catherine. It's a shame to play such tricks on the girl.”
“What is the gentleman's name? ” he went on, aloud.
“I didn't catch it, and I didn't like to ask him. He asked to be introduced to me, ” said Mrs. Penniman, with a certain pride;“but you know how unclearly Jefferson speaks.” Jefferson was Mr. Almond. “Catherine, dear, what is the gentleman's name? ”
For a minute, if it had not been for the noise of the carriage, you might have heard a pin drop.
“I don't know, Aunt Lavinia, ” said Catherine, very softly. And, with all his irony, her father believed her.
accompany/əˈkʌmpənɪ/vt． 陪伴，陪同
acquaintance /əˈkweɪntəns/n.认识
administer/ədˈmɪnɪstə/vt．给予
consequence /ˈkɒnsɪkwəns/ n.后果，影响
agreeable/əˈɡri:əbl/adj． 令人愉快的
embarrassment/ɪmˈbærəs mən t/n． 困窘，局促不安
be conscious of 意识到
inquiry/ɪnˈk waɪərɪ/n．询问；探问
hesitate/ˈhezɪteɪt/vi． 不愿；犹豫，踌躇
tone /təʊn/ n． 音调；语调
lean/li:n/vi．倚，靠
feature /ˈfi :tʃə/ n． 容貌，面貌，相貌
delicate/ˈdelɪkət/adj． 精致的；柔软的，细嫩的
New Yorker 纽约人
gaze/ɡeɪz/n．凝视，注视
ironical/aɪˈrɒnɪkəl/adj．讽刺的
blush /blʌʃ/ n.（因羞愧或尴尬而）脸红
original /əˈrɪdʒɪnəl/ adj． 新创的，非模仿的，非抄袭的
profession /prəˈfeʃən/ n.（信念、感情等的）表白，宣布
boldness/ˈbəʊldnɪs/n．无畏，大胆，勇敢
startle/ˈstɑ:tl/vt．使吃惊，惊吓
magnificent /mæɡˈnɪfɪsən t/adj． 华丽的；不凡的；壮丽的
vaguely/ˈveɪɡlɪ/adv． 不清楚地，模糊地
insult/ˈɪnsʌlt/n．侮辱
murmur/ˈmɜ:mə/vt．低声说
significant /sɪɡˈnɪfɪkənt/ adj.有特殊意义的；重要的
fatigue/fəˈti:ɡ/n．疲乏，疲劳
overtake/ˌəʊvəˈteɪk/vt．突然侵袭，压倒
blush/blʌʃ/vi．脸红，羞愧
exclaim/ɪkˈskleɪm/vt． 呼喊，惊叫，大声叫
faintly/feɪntlɪ/adv．微弱地，无力地
refined/rɪˈfaɪnd/adj．文雅的
tremendously /trɪˈmendəslɪ/adv． 的确；非常
romance/rəʊˈmæn s/n．浪漫故事；传奇故事
unclearly/ˌʌnˈklɪəlɪ/adv． 不清楚地，含糊地
irony /ˈaɪər ənɪ/ n． 冷嘲；反语