Chapter 2
When the child was about ten years old, the Doctor invited his sister, Mrs. Penniman, to come and stay with him. He had two sisters, and both of them had married early in life. The younger, Mrs. Almond by name, was the wife of a prosperous merchant, and the mother of a blooming family. The Doctor preferred Mrs. Almond to his sister Lavinia, who had married a poor, unhealthy clergyman, and then, at the age of thirty-three, had been left a widow, without children, without fortune. Nevertheless, he had offered her a home under his own roof, which Lavinia accepted eagerly. The Doctor had not proposed to Mrs. Penniman to come and live with him indefinitely; he had suggested that she should stay until she found another apartment. Nevertheless, she settled herself with her brother and never went away.
Mrs. Penniman's own account of the matter was that she had remained to take charge of her niece's education. She had given this account, at least, to everyone but the Doctor. She had not a high sense of humor, but she had enough to prevent her from making this mistake; and her brother, on his side, had enough to excuse her, in her situation, for laying him under contribution during a considerable part of a lifetime. He, therefore, silently agreed to the proposition, which Mrs.Penniman had silently laid down, that it was of importance that the girl should have a brilliant woman near her.
His agreement could only be unspoken, although he had never been dazzled by his sister's intellectual abilities. Except for when he fell in love with Catherine Harrington, he had never been dazzled, indeed, by any feminine characteristics whatever; and though he was to a certain extent what is called a ladies' doctor, his private opinion of the more complicated sex was not high. His wife had been a bright exception. Such a conviction, of course, did little to ease his loss; and it set a limit to his recognition of Catherine's possibilities. Still, he was extremely polite to Lavinia, formally polite; and she had never seen him in anger but once in her life, when he lost his temper in a religious discussion with her late husband. With her he never discussed religion, nor, indeed, discussed anything; he contented himself with simply making known, very distinctly, his wishes with regard to Catherine.
“Try and make a clever woman of her, Lavinia; I should like her to be a clever woman, ” he had said when the girl was twelve years of age.
Mrs. Penniman, at this, looked thoughtful a moment. “My dear Austin, ” she then inquired, “do you think it is better to be clever than to be good? ”
“Good for what? ” asked the Doctor. “You are good for nothing unless you are clever.”
Mrs. Penniman decided not to argue.
She, Mrs. Penniman, was a tall, thin, fair, rather faded woman, with a perfectly amiable disposition, a taste for light literature, and a certain foolish indirectness of character. She had a passion for little secrets and mysteries—a very innocent passion, for her secrets had always been trivial. She would have liked to have a lover, and to correspond with him under an assumed name in letters left at a shop; I am bound to say that her imagination never carried the relationship farther than this. Mrs. Penniman had never had a lover, but her brother, who was very shrewd, understood her turn of mind. “When Catherine is about seventeen, ” he said to himself, “Lavinia will try and persuade her that some young man with a moustache is in love with her. It will be quite untrue; no young man, with a moustache or without, will ever be in love with Catherine. Catherine won't see it, and won't believe it, fortunately for her peace of mind; the poor girl isn't romantic.”
Catherine was a healthy well-grown child, without a trace of her mother's beauty. She was not ugly; she had simply a plain, dull, gentle face. She was a very good child, affectionate, kind, obedient, and much addicted to speaking the truth. She was not clever, by any means; she was not quick with her book, nor, indeed, with anything else. She, however, managed enough learning to carry herself respectably in conversation with her contemporaries, among whom, it must be admitted, she occupied a secondary place. Catherine, who was extremely modest, had no desire to shine, and on most social occasions, as they are called, you would have found her remaining in the background.
She was extremely fond of her father, and very much afraid of him; she thought him the cleverest and handsomest and most celebrated of men. Her deepest desire was to please him, and her conception of happiness was to know that she had succeeded in pleasing him. She had never succeeded beyond a certain point. Though, on the whole, he was very kind to her, she was perfectly aware of this, and to go beyond the point in question seemed to her really something to live for. What she could not know, of course, was that she disappointed him, though on three or four occasions the Doctor had been almost frank about it.
She grew up peacefully and happily, but at the age of eighteen Mrs. Penniman had not made a clever woman of her. Dr. Sloper would have liked to be proud of his daughter; but there was nothing to be proud of in poor Catherine. There was nothing, of course, to be ashamed of; but this was not enough for the Doctor, who was a proud man and would have enjoyed being able to think of his daughter as an unusual girl.
It must not be supposed that Dr. Sloper visited his disappointment upon the poor girl. On the contrary, for fear of being unjust to her, he did his duty with great zeal, and recognized that she was a faithful and affectionate child. He satisfied himself that he had expected nothing from her. She was a very quiet and unresponsive person. People who expressed themselves roughly called her dull. But she was unresponsive because she was shy; uncomfortably, painfully shy. This was not always understood, and she sometimes gave the impression of being incapable of any feeling. In reality she was the softest creature in the world.
prosperous /ˈprɒspərəs/ adj.成功的；幸运的；繁荣的
blooming/ˈblu:mɪŋ/adj． 青春美貌的
clergyman/ˈklɜ:dʒɪmən/n．正式任命的牧师（尤指英国国教者）
widow /ˈwɪdəʊ/ n． 寡妇
nevertheless/ˌnevəðəˈles/adv.然而，虽然如此
indefinitely /ɪnˈdefɪnɪtlɪ/ adv.无限期地
proposition /ˌprɒpəˈzɪʃən/ n.提议，建议
brilliant/ˈbrɪljənt/adj． 才华横溢的；卓越的
dazzle /ˈdæz l/ v t． 使倾倒；使惊叹
intellectual/ˌɪntɪˈlektjʊəl/adj.智力的，有智力的
feminine/ˈfemɪnɪn/adj．妇女的，女性的
characteristic/ˌkærək təˈrɪs tɪk/n． 特点，特质，特色，特征
complicated /ˈkɒmplɪkeɪtɪd/adj． 复杂的，难懂的
exception/ɪkˈsepʃən/n．例外
conviction /kənˈvɪkʃən/ n． 坚信，深信，确信
recognition /ˌrekəɡˈnɪʃən/ n.认识；识别；了解
formally/ˈfɔ:məlɪ/adv． 形式上；表面上
lose one's temper 发脾气
distinctly/dɪˈstɪŋktlɪ/adv． 清楚地，清晰地
thoughtful/ˈθɔ:tfʊl/adj． 沉思的，思索的
inquire/ɪnˈk waɪə/v t．询问
disposition/ˌdɪspəˈzɪʃən/n． 性情，气质
indirectness /ˌɪndɪˈrektnɪs/ n.拐弯抹角
passion/ˈpæʃən/n．热情，激情
innocent/ˈɪnəsənt/adj．无知的；天真的；头脑简单的
trivial/ˈtrɪvɪəl/adj． 无价值的，不重要的；琐碎的
assume/əˈsju:m/vt．冒用，假装
imagination /ɪˌmædʒɪˈn eɪʃən/n． 想象力
shrewd/ʃru:d/adj． 精明的，明智的；有可靠的判断力和常识的
fortunately /ˈfɔ:tʃənətlɪ/ adv.幸运地
trace/treɪs/n．痕迹
affectionate /əˈfekʃənət/ adj.亲切的；温柔体贴的
obedient/əˈbi:dɪənt/adj． 顺从的，听话的
be addicted to 沉溺于，嗜好
respectably /rɪˈspektəblɪ/ adv.适当地；体面地
contemporary/kənˈtempərərɪ/n． 同龄人，同代人
secondary/ˈsekəndərɪ/adj． 从属的，次要的
conception/kənˈsepʃən/n．想象，设想；意念
be aware of 意识到
frank /fræŋk/ adj． 坦白的，率直的
visit/ˈvɪzɪt/vt．施加
unjust/ˌʌnˈdʒʌst/adj．不公正的，不公平的
zeal/zi:l/n．热忱，热心
faithful/ˈfeɪθfʊl/adj．忠实的，守信的
unresponsive /ˌʌnrɪsˈpɒnsɪv/adj． 没有反应的，反应迟缓的
incapable/ɪnˈkeɪpəbl/adj． 不能的，无能力的
creature/ˈkri:tʃə/n.（与形容词连用）人