The Blue Castle | Progressive Translation Books for German A2 Students

The Blue Castle | Progressive Translation Books for German A2 Students

This progressive translation technique brings multiple benefits to language learners. It lets you choose the difficulty level that matches your abilities, making sure the material is challenging but not too difficult. By focusing on understanding words in context, this method boosts your comprehension skills. While direct translations are slightly hidden to promote guessing from context, you can always check unfamiliar words. This approach makes learning a new language both engaging and accessible, offering the right mix of difficulty and encouragement. Embark on a journey through translated classics and enjoy the process of learning through reading.

CHAPTERI
IfithadnotrainedonacertainMaymorningValancyStirling’swholelifewouldhavebeenentirelydifferent.
Shewouldhavegone,withtherestofherclan,to
Tante
Aunt
Wellington’sengagementpicnicandDr.TrentwouldhavegonetoMontreal.
Butitdidrainandyoushallhearwhathappenedtoherbecauseofit.
Valancywakenedearly,inthelifeless,hopelesshourjustprecedingdawn.
Shehadnotsleptverywell.
Onedoesnotsleepwell,sometimes,whenoneistwenty-nineonthemorrow,andunmarried,inacommunityandconnectionwheretheunmarriedare
einfach
simply
thosewhohavefailedtogetaman.
DeerwoodandtheStirlingshadlongsincerelegatedValancytohopelessoldmaidenhood.
ButValancyherselfhadneverquiterelinquishedacertainpitiful,shamed,littlehopethatRomancewouldcomeherwayyet—never,untilthiswet,horriblemorning,whenshewakenedtothefactthatshewastwenty-nineandunsoughtbyanyman.
Ay,there
lag
lay
thesting.
Valancydidnotmindsomuchbeinganoldmaid.
Afterall,shethought,beinganoldmaidcouldn’tpossiblybeasdreadfulasbeingmarriedtoanUncleWellingtonoranUncleBenjamin,orevenanUncleHerbert.
Whathurtherwasthatshehadneverhadachancetobeanythingbutanoldmaid.
Nomanhadeverdesiredher.
Thetearscameintohereyesasshe
lag
lay
therealoneinthefaintlygreyingdarkness.
Shedarednotletherself
weinen
cry
ashardasshewantedto,fortworeasons.
Shewasafraidthatcryingmightbringonanotherattackofthatpainaroundtheheart.
Shehadhadaspellofitaftershehadgotintobed—rather
schlimmer
worse
thananyshehadhadyet.
Andshewasafraidhermotherwould
bemerken
notice
herredeyesat
frühstück
breakfast
andkeepatherwithminute,persistent,mosquito-likequestionsregardingthecausethereof.
“Suppose,”thoughtValancywithaghastlygrin,“Iansweredwiththeplaintruth,‘IamcryingbecauseIcannotgetmarried.’HowhorrifiedMotherwouldbe—thoughsheisashamedeverydayofherlifeofheroldmaiddaughter.”
Butofcourseappearancesshouldbekeptup.
“Itisnot,”Valancycouldhearhermother’sprim,dictatorial
stimme
voice
asserting,“itisnotmaidenlytothinkaboutmen.”
Thethoughtofhermother’sexpressionmadeValancylaugh—forshehada
sinn
sense
ofhumournobodyinherclansuspected.
Forthatmatter,therewereagoodmanythingsaboutValancythatnobodysuspected.
Butherlaughterwasverysuperficialandpresentlyshe
lag
lay
there,ahuddled,futilelittle
figur
figure
,listeningtotherainpouringdownoutsideandwatching,withasickdistaste,thechill,mercilesslightcreepingintoherugly,sordidroom.
Sheknewtheuglinessofthatroombyheart—knewitandhatedit.
Theyellow-painted
boden
floor
,withonehideous,“hooked”rugbythebed,withagrotesque,“hooked”dogonit,alwaysgrinningatherwhensheawoke;
thefaded,dark-red
papier
paper
;
theceilingdiscolouredbyoldleaksandcrossedbycracks;
thenarrow,pinchedlittlewashstand;
thebrown-paperlambrequinwithpurplerosesonit;
thespottedoldlooking-glasswiththecrackacrossit,proppedupontheinadequatedressing-table;
thejarofancientpotpourrimadebyhermotherinhermythicalhoneymoon;
theshell-coveredbox,withoneburstcorner,which
Cousin
Cousin
Stickleshadmadeinherequallymythicalgirlhood;
thebeadedpincushionwithhalfitsbeadfringegone;
theonestiff,yellowchair;
thefadedoldmotto,“Gonebutnotforgotten,”workedincolouredyarnsaboutGreat-grand-motherStirling’sgrimoldface;
theoldphotographsofancientrelativeslongbanishedfromtheroomsbelow.
Therewereonlytwopicturesthatwerenotofrelatives.
One,anoldchromoofapuppysittingonarainydoorstep.
That
bild
picture
alwaysmadeValancyunhappy.
Thatforlornlittledogcrouchedonthedoorstepinthedriving
regen
rain
!
Whydidn’tsomeoneopenthedoorandlethimin?
Theother
bild
picture
wasafaded,passe-partoutedengravingof
Königin
Queen
Louisecomingdownastairway,which
Tante
Aunt
Wellingtonhadlavishlygivenheronhertenth
geburtstag
birthday
.
Fornineteenyearsshehadlookedatitandhatedit,beautiful,smug,self-satisfied
Königin
Queen
Louise.
Butsheneverdareddestroyitorremoveit.
Motherand
Cousin
Cousin
Stickleswouldhavebeenaghast,or,asValancyirreverentlyexpresseditinherthoughts,wouldhavehadafit.
Everyroominthehousewasugly,ofcourse.
Butdownstairsappearanceswerekeptupsomewhat.
Therewasnomoneyforroomsnobodyeversaw.
Valancysometimesfeltthatshecouldhavedonesomethingforherroomherself,evenwithoutmoney,ifshewerepermitted.
ButhermotherhadnegativedeverytimidsuggestionandValancydidnotpersist.
Valancyneverpersisted.
Shewasafraidto.
Hermothercouldnotbrookopposition.
Mrs.Stirlingwouldsulkfordaysifoffended,withtheairsofaninsultedduchess.
TheonlythingValancylikedaboutherroomwasthatshecouldbealonethereatnightto
weinen
cry
ifshewantedto.
But,afterall,whatdiditmatterifaroom,whichyouusedfornothingexceptsleepinganddressingin,wereugly?
Valancywasneverpermittedtostayaloneinherroomforanyotherpurpose.
Peoplewhowantedtobealone,soMrs.FrederickStirlingand
Cousin
Cousin
Sticklesbelieved,couldonlywanttobealoneforsomesinisterpurpose.
ButherroomintheBlueCastlewaseverythingaroomshouldbe.
Valancy,socowedandsubduedandoverriddenandsnubbedinreallife,waswonttoletherselfgo
ziemlich
rather
splendidlyinherday-dreams.
NobodyintheStirlingclan,oritsramifications,suspectedthis,leastofallhermotherand
Cousin
Cousin
Stickles.
TheyneverknewthatValancyhadtwohomes—theuglyredbrickboxofahome,onElmStreet,andtheBlueCastleinSpain.
ValancyhadlivedspirituallyintheBlueCastleeversinceshecouldremember.
Shehadbeenaverytinychildwhenshefoundherselfpossessedofit.
Always,whensheshuthereyes,shecouldseeitplainly,withitsturretsandbannersonthepine-cladmountainheight,wrappedinitsfaint,blueloveliness,againstthesunsetskiesofafairandunknownland.
Everything
wunderbare
wonderful
andbeautifulwasinthatcastle.
Jewelsthatqueensmighthaveworn;
robesofmoonlightandfire;
couchesofrosesand
gold
gold
;
longflightsofshallowmarblesteps,withgreat,whiteurns,andwithslender,mist-cladmaidensgoingupanddownthem;
courts,marble-pillared,whereshimmeringfountainsfellandnightingalessangamongthemyrtles;
hallsofmirrorsthatreflectedonlyhandsomeknightsandlovelywomen—herselftheloveliestofall,for
deren
whose
glancemendied.
Allthatsupportedherthroughtheboredomofherdayswasthehopeofgoingonadreamspreeatnight.
Most,ifnotall,oftheStirlingswouldhavediedofhorroriftheyhad
gewusst
known
halfthethingsValancydidinherBlueCastle.
Foronethingshehadquiteafewloversinit.
Oh,onlyoneatatime.
Onewhowooedherwithalltheromanticardouroftheageofchivalryandwonherafterlongdevotionandmanydeedsofderring-do,andwasweddedtoherwithpompandcircumstanceinthegreat,banner-hungchapeloftheBlueCastle.
Attwelve,thisloverwasafairladwithgoldencurlsandheavenlyblueeyes.
Atfifteen,hewastalland
dunkel
dark
andpale,butstillnecessarilyhandsome.
Attwenty,hewasascetic,dreamy,spiritual.
Attwenty-five,hehadaclean-cutjaw,slightlygrim,andaface
stark
strong
andruggedratherthanhandsome.
Valancynevergrewolderthantwenty-fiveinherBlueCastle,butrecently—veryrecently—her
held
hero
hadhadreddish,tawnyhair,atwisted
lächeln
smile
andamysteriouspast.
Idon’tsayValancydeliberatelymurderedtheseloversassheoutgrewthem.
One
einfach
simply
fadedawayasanothercame.
Thingsareveryconvenientinthis
hinsicht
respect
inBlueCastles.
But,onthismorningofherdayoffate,Valancycouldnotfindthe
schlüssel
key
ofherBlueCastle.
Realitypressedonhertoohardly,barkingatherheelslikeamaddeninglittledog.
Shewastwenty-nine,lonely,undesired,ill-favoured—theonlyhomelygirlinahandsomeclan,withnopastandno
zukunft
future
.
Asfarasshecouldlookback,lifewasdrabandcolourless,withnotonesinglecrimsonorpurple
fleck
spot
anywhere.
Asfarasshecouldlookforwardit
schien
seemed
certaintobejustthesameuntilshewasnothingbutasolitary,littlewitheredleafclingingtoawintrybough.
Themomentwhenawomanrealisesthatshehasnothingtolivefor—neitherlove,
pflicht
duty
,purposenorhope—holdsforherthebitternessofdeath.
“AndIjusthavetogoonlivingbecauseIcan’tstop.
Imayhavetoliveeightyyears,”thoughtValancy,inakindofpanic.
“We’reallhorriblylong-lived.
Itsickensmetothinkofit.”
Shewasgladitwasraining—or
vielmehr
rather
,shewasdrearilysatisfiedthatitwasraining.
Therewouldbenopicnicthatday.
Thisannualpicnic,whereby
Tante
Aunt
andUncleWellington—onealwaysthoughtoftheminthatsuccession—inevitablycelebratedtheirengagementatapicnicthirtyyearsbefore,hadbeen,oflateyears,averitablenightmaretoValancy.
Byanimpishcoincidenceitwasthesamedayasher
geburtstag
birthday
and,aftershehadpassedtwenty-five,nobodyletherforgetit.
Muchasshehatedgoingtothepicnic,itwouldneverhaveoccurredtohertorebelagainstit.
There
schien
seemed
tobenothingoftherevolutionaryinher
natur
nature
.
Andsheknewexactlywhateveryonewouldsaytoheratthepicnic.
UncleWellington,whomshedislikedanddespisedeventhoughhehadfulfilledthehighestStirlingaspiration,“marryingmoney,”wouldsaytoherinapig’swhisper,“Notthinkingofgettingmarriedyet,mydear?”
andthengooffintothebellowoflaughterwithwhichheinvariablyconcludedhisdullremarks.
Tante
Aunt
Wellington,ofwhomValancystoodinabjectawe,wouldtellheraboutOlive’snewchiffon
kleid
dress
andCecil’slastdevoted
brief
letter
.
Valancywouldhavetolookaspleasedand
interessiert
interested
asifthedressand
brief
letter
hadbeenhersorelse
Tante
Aunt
Wellingtonwouldbeoffended.
AndValancyhadlongago
entschieden
decided
thatshewouldratheroffendGodthan
Tante
Aunt
Wellington,becauseGodmight
verzeihen
forgive
herbutAuntWellingtonneverwould.
Tante
Aunt
Alberta,enormouslyfat,withanamiablehabitofalwaysreferringtoherhusbandas“he,”asifheweretheonlymalecreatureintheworld,whocouldneverforgetthatshehadbeenagreat
schönheit
beauty
inheryouth,wouldcondolewithValancyonhersallow
haut
skin—
.
“Idon’tknowwhyallthegirlsoftodayaresosunburned.
WhenIwasagirlmy
haut
skin
wasrosesandcream.
IwascountedtheprettiestgirlinCanada,mydear.”
PerhapsUncleHerbertwouldn’tsayanything—orperhapshewouldremarkjocularly,“How
fett
fat
you’regetting,Doss!”
Andtheneverybodywould
lachten
laugh
overtheexcessivelyhumorousideaofpoor,scrawnylittleDossgetting
fett
fat
.
Handsome,solemnUncleJames,whomValancydislikedbutrespectedbecausehewasreputedtobeverycleverandwasthereforetheclanoracle—brainsbeingnonetooplentifulintheStirlingconnection—wouldprobablyremarkwiththeowl-likesarcasmthathadwonhimhisreputation,“I
nehme an
suppose
you’rebusywithyourhope-chestthesedays?”
AndUncleBenjaminwouldasksomeofhisabominableconundrums,betweenwheezychuckles,andanswerthemhimself.
“Whatisthe
unterschied
difference
betweenDossandamouse?
“ThemousewishestoharmthecheeseandDosswishestocharmthehe’s.”
Valancyhadheardhimaskthatriddlefiftytimesandeverytimeshewantedto
werfen
throw
somethingathim.
Butsheneverdid.
Inthefirstplace,theStirlings
einfach
simply
didnotthrowthings;
inthesecondplace,UncleBenjaminwasawealthyandchildlessoldwidowerandValancyhadbeenbroughtupinthefearandadmonitionofhismoney.
Ifsheoffendedhimhewouldcutheroutofhiswill—supposingshewereinit.
ValancydidnotwanttobecutoutofUncleBenjamin’swill.
Shehadbeenpoorallherlifeandknewthegallingbitternessofit.
Sosheenduredhisriddlesandevensmiledtorturedlittlesmilesoverthem.
Tante
Aunt
Isabel,downrightanddisagreeableasaneastwind,wouldcriticiseherinsomeway—Valancycouldnotpredictjusthow,for
Tante
Aunt
Isabelneverrepeatedacriticism—shefoundsomethingnewwithwhichtojabyoueverytime.
Tante
Aunt
Isabelpridedherselfonsayingwhatshethought,butdidn’tlikeitsowellwhenotherpeoplesaidwhattheythoughttoher.
Valancyneversaidwhatshethought.
Cousin
Cousin
Georgiana—namedafterhergreat-great-grand-mother,whohadbeennamedafterGeorgetheFourth—wouldrecountdolorouslythenamesofallrelativesandfriendswhohaddiedsincethelastpicnicandwonder“whichofuswillbethefirsttogonext.”
Oppressivelycompetent,
Tante
Aunt
MildredwouldtalkendlesslyofherhusbandandherodiousprodigiesofbabiestoValancy,becauseValancywouldbetheonlyoneshecouldfindtoputupwithit.
Forthesamereason,
Cousin
Cousin
Gladys—reallyFirstCousinGladysonceremoved,
nach
according
tothestrictwayinwhichtheStirlingstabulatedrelationship—atall,thinladywhoadmittedshehadasensitivedisposition,woulddescribeminutelythetorturesofherneuritis.
AndOlive,thewondergirlofthewholeStirlingclan,whohadeverythingValancyhadnot—beauty,popularity,love,—wouldshowoffher
schönheit
beauty
andpresumeonherpopularityandflauntherdiamondinsigniaofloveinValancy’sdazzled,enviouseyes.
Therewouldbenoneofallthistoday.
Andtherewouldbenopackingupofteaspoons.
ThepackingupwasalwaysleftforValancyand
Cousin
Cousin
Stickles.
Andonce,sixyearsago,asilverteaspoonfrom
Tante
Aunt
Wellington’sweddingsethadbeenlost.
Valancyneverheardthelastofthatsilverteaspoon.
Its
geist
ghost
appearedBanquo-likeateverysubsequentfamilyfeast.
Oh,yes,Valancyknewexactlywhatthepicnicwouldbelikeandsheblessedthe
regen
rain
thathadsavedherfromit.
Therewouldbenopicnicthisyear.
If
Tante
Aunt
Wellingtoncouldnotcelebrateonthesacreddayitselfshewouldhavenocelebrationatall.
Thankwhatevergodstherewereforthat.
Sincetherewouldbenopicnic,Valancymadeuphermindthat,ifthe
regen
rain
heldupinthe
nachmittag
afternoon
,shewouldgouptothelibraryandgetanotherofJohnFoster’sbooks.
Valancywasneverallowedtoreadnovels,butJohnFoster’sbookswerenotnovels.
Theywere“naturebooks”—sothelibrariantoldMrs.FrederickStirling—“allaboutthewoodsandbirdsandbugsandthingslikethat,youknow.”
SoValancywasallowedtoreadthem—underprotest,foritwasonlytooevidentthatsheenjoyedthemtoomuch.
Itwaspermissible,evenlaudable,toreadtoimproveyourmindandyourreligion,butabookthatwasenjoyablewas
gefährlich
dangerous
.
Valancydidnotknow
ob
whether
hermindwasbeingimprovedornot;
butshefeltvaguelythatifshehadcomeacrossJohnFoster’sbooksyearsagolifemighthavebeenadifferentthingforher.
They
schienen
seemed
tohertoyieldglimpsesofaworldintowhichshemightoncehaveentered,thoughthedoorwas
für immer
forever
barredtohernow.
ItwasonlywithinthelastyearthatJohnFoster’sbookshadbeenintheDeerwoodlibrary,thoughthelibrariantoldValancythathehadbeenawell-knownwriterforseveralyears.
“Wheredoeshelive?”
Valancyhadasked.
“Nobodyknows.
FromhisbookshemustbeaCanadian,butnomore
informationen
information
canbehad.
Hispublisherswon’tsayaword.
QuitelikelyJohnFosterisanomdeplume.
Hisbooksaresopopularwecan’tkeeptheminatall,thoughIreallycan’tseewhatpeoplefindinthemtoraveover.”
“Ithinkthey’rewonderful,”saidValancy,timidly.
“Oh—well—”
MissClarkson
lächelte
smiled
inapatronisingfashionthatrelegatedValancy’sopinionstolimbo,“Ican’tsayIcaremuchforbugsmyself.
But
sicherlich
certainly
Fosterseemstoknowallthereistoknowaboutthem.”
Valancydidn’tknow
ob
whether
shecaredmuchforbugseither.
ItwasnotJohnFoster’suncannyknowledgeofwildcreaturesandinsectlifethatenthralledher.
Shecouldhardlysaywhatitwas—sometantalisinglureofamysteryneverrevealed—somehintofagreatsecretjustalittle
weiter
further
on—somefaint,elusiveechooflovely,forgottenthings—JohnFoster’smagicwasindefinable.
Yes,shewouldgetanewFosterbook.
Itwasa
monat
month
sinceshehadThistleHarvest,sosurelyMothercouldnotobject.
Valancyhadreaditfourtimes—sheknewwholepassagesoffbyheart.
And—shealmostthoughtshewouldgoandseeDr.Trentaboutthatqueer
schmerzen
pain
aroundtheheart.
Ithadcome
ziemlich
rather
oftenlately,andthepalpitationswerebecomingannoying,nottospeakofanoccasionaldizzymomentandaqueershortnessofbreath.
Butcouldshegotoseehimwithouttellinganyone?
Itwasamostdaringthought.
NoneoftheStirlingseverconsultedadoctorwithoutholdingafamilycouncilandgettingUncleJames’approval.
Then,theywenttoDr.AmbroseMarshofPortLawrence,whohadmarriedSecond
Cousine
Cousin
AdelaideStirling.
ButValancydislikedDr.AmbroseMarsh.
And,besides,shecouldnotgettoPortLawrence,fifteenmilesaway,withoutbeingtakenthere.
Shedidnotwantanyonetoknowaboutherheart.
Therewouldbesuchafussmadeandeverymemberofthefamilywouldcomedownandtalkitoverandadviseherandcautionherandwarnherandtellherhorribletalesofgreat-auntsandcousinsfortytimesremovedwhohadbeen“justlikethat”and“droppeddeadwithoutamoment’swarning,mydear.”
Tante
Aunt
IsabelwouldrememberthatshehadalwayssaidDosslookedlikeagirlwhowouldhavehearttrouble—“sopinchedandpeakedalways”;
andUncleWellingtonwouldtakeitasapersonalinsult,when“noStirlingeverhadheartdiseasebefore”;
andGeorgianawouldforebodeinperfectlyaudibleasidesthat“poor,dearlittleDossisn’tlongforthisworld,I’mafraid”;
and
Cousin
Cousin
Gladyswouldsay,“Why,myhearthasbeenlikethatforyears,”inatonethatimpliednooneelsehadanybusinesseventohaveaheart;
andOlive—Olivewouldmerelylookbeautifulandsuperioranddisgustinglyhealthy,asiftosay,“WhyallthisfussoverafadedsuperfluitylikeDosswhenyouhaveme?”
Valancyfeltthatshecouldn’ttellanybody
es sei denn
unless
shehadto.
Shefeltquitesuretherewasnothingatall
ernsthaft
seriously
wrongwithherheartandnoneedofallthepotherthatwouldensueifshe
erwähnte
mentioned
it.
ShewouldjustslipupquietlyandseeDr.Trentthatveryday.
Asforhis
rechnung
bill
,shehadthetwohundreddollarsthatherfatherhadputinthe
bank
bank
forherthedayshewasborn.
Shewasneverallowedtouseeventhe
zinsen
interest
ofthis,butshewouldsecretlytakeoutenoughtopayDr.Trent.
Dr.
Trentwasagruff,outspoken,absent-mindedoldfellow,buthewasarecognisedauthorityonheartdisease,evenifhewereonlyageneralpractitionerinout-of-the-worldDeerwood.
Dr.Trentwasoverseventyandtherehadbeenrumoursthathemeanttoretiresoon.
NoneoftheStirlingclanhadevergonetohimsincehehadtold
Cousin
Cousin
Gladys,tenyearsbefore,thatherneuritiswasallimaginaryandthatsheenjoyedit.
Youcouldn’tpatroniseadoctorwhoinsultedyourfirst-cousin-once-removedlikethat—nottomentionthathewasaPresbyterianwhenalltheStirlingswenttotheAnglican
kirche
church
.
CHAPTERII
WhenCousinSticklesknockedatherdoor,Valancyknewitwashalf-past
sieben
seven
andshemustgetup.
Aslongasshecouldremember,
Cousin
Cousin
Stickleshadknockedatherdoorathalf-past
sieben
seven
.
CousinSticklesandMrs.FrederickStirlinghadbeenupsince
sieben
seven
,butValancywasallowedto
liegen
lie
abedhalfanhourlongerbecauseofafamilytraditionthatshewasdelicate.
Valancygotup,thoughshehatedgettingupmorethismorningthanevershehadbefore.