The Blue Castle Gradually Hardening Portuguese B2 Books

CHAPTERI

IfithadnotrainedonacertainMaymorningValancyStirling’swholelifewouldhavebeen

inteiramente

entirelydifferent.

Shewouldhavegone,withtherestofher

clã

clan,toAuntWellington’sengagement

piquenique

picnicandDr.TrentwouldhavegonetoMontreal.

Butitdidrainandyoushallhearwhathappenedtoherbecauseofit.

Valancywakenedearly,inthe

sem vida

lifeless,hopelesshourjustprecedingdawn.

Shehadnotsleptverywell.

Onedoesnotsleepwell,sometimes,whenoneistwenty-nineonthemorrow,andunmarried,inacommunityandconnectionwheretheunmarriedaresimplythosewhohavefailedtogetaman.

DeerwoodandtheStirlingshadlongsincerelegatedValancyto

desesperada

hopelessoldmaidenhood.

ButValancyherselfhadneverquiterelinquishedacertainpitiful,shamed,littlehopethat

Romance

Romancewouldcomeherwayyet—never,untilthiswet,horriblemorning,whenshewakenedtothefactthatshewastwenty-nineandunsoughtbyanyman.

Ay,therelaythesting.

Valancydidnotmindsomuchbeinganoldmaid.

Afterall,shethought,beinganoldmaidcouldn’tpossiblybeas

terrível

dreadfulasbeingmarriedtoanUncleWellingtonoranUncleBenjamin,orevenanUncleHerbert.

Whathurtherwasthatshehadneverhadachancetobeanythingbutanoldmaid.

Nomanhadeverdesiredher.

Thetearscameintohereyesasshelaytherealoneinthefaintlygreyingdarkness.

Shedarednotletherselfcryashardasshewantedto,fortworeasons.

Shewasafraidthatcryingmightbringonanotherattackofthatpainaroundtheheart.

Shehadhadaspellofitaftershehadgotintobed—ratherworsethananyshehadhadyet.

Andshewasafraidhermotherwouldnoticeherredeyesatbreakfastandkeepatherwithminute,persistent,mosquito-likequestionsregardingthecausethereof.

“Suppose,”thoughtValancywitha

horrível

ghastlygrin,“Iansweredwiththeplaintruth,‘IamcryingbecauseIcannotgetmarried.’HowhorrifiedMotherwouldbe—thoughsheisashamedeverydayofherlifeofheroldmaiddaughter.”

Butofcourseappearancesshouldbekeptup.

“Itisnot,”Valancycouldhearhermother’sprim,dictatorialvoiceasserting,“itisnotmaidenlytothinkaboutmen.”

Thethoughtofhermother’s

expressão

expressionmadeValancylaugh—forshehadasenseofhumournobodyinher

clã

clansuspected.

Forthatmatter,therewereagoodmanythingsaboutValancythatnobodysuspected.

Butherlaughterwasvery

superficial

superficialandpresentlyshelaythere,ahuddled,

inútil

futilelittlefigure,listeningtotherainpouringdownoutsideandwatching,withasickdistaste,thechill,

implacável

mercilesslightcreepingintoherugly,

sórdido

sordidroom.

Sheknewtheuglinessofthatroombyheart—knewitandhatedit.

Theyellow-paintedfloor,withone

horrível

hideous,“hooked”rugbythebed,witha

grotesco

grotesque,“hooked”dogonit,always

sorrindo

grinningatherwhensheawoke;

the

desbotado

faded,dark-redpaper;

theceilingdiscolouredbyoldleaksandcrossedbycracks;

the

estreito

narrow,pinchedlittlewashstand;

thebrown-paperlambrequinwith

roxas

purplerosesonit;

thespottedoldlooking-glasswiththecrackacrossit,proppeduponthe

inadequada

inadequatedressing-table;

thejarofancientpotpourrimadebyhermotherinhermythical

mel

honeymoon;

theshell-coveredbox,withone

rebentado

burstcorner,whichCousinStickleshadmadeinher

igualmente

equallymythicalgirlhood;

thebeadedpincushionwithhalfitsbead

franja

fringegone;

theonestiff,yellowchair;

the

desbotado

fadedoldmotto,“Gonebutnotforgotten,”workedincolouredyarnsaboutGreat-grand-motherStirling’s

sombrio

grimoldface;

theoldphotographsofancientrelativeslongbanishedfromtheroomsbelow.

Therewereonlytwopicturesthatwerenotofrelatives.

One,anoldchromoofa

cachorro

puppysittingonarainy

porta

doorstep.

ThatpicturealwaysmadeValancyunhappy.

Thatforlornlittledogcrouchedonthe

porta

doorstepinthedrivingrain!

Whydidn’tsomeoneopenthedoorandlethimin?

Theotherpicturewasafaded,passe-partoutedengravingofQueenLouisecomingdowna

escada

stairway,whichAuntWellingtonhadlavishlygivenheronher

décimo

tenthbirthday.

Fornineteenyearsshehadlookedatitandhatedit,beautiful,smug,self-satisfiedQueenLouise.

Butsheneverdareddestroyitorremoveit.

MotherandCousinStickleswouldhavebeenaghast,or,asValancyirreverentlyexpresseditinherthoughts,wouldhavehadafit.

Everyroominthehousewasugly,ofcourse.

Butdownstairsappearanceswerekeptupsomewhat.

Therewasnomoneyforroomsnobodyeversaw.

Valancysometimesfeltthatshecouldhavedonesomethingforherroomherself,evenwithoutmoney,ifshewerepermitted.

ButhermotherhadnegativedeverytimidsuggestionandValancydidnot

persistiu

persist.

Valancyneverpersisted.

Shewasafraidto.

Hermothercouldnotbrook

oposição

opposition.

Mrs.Stirlingwouldsulkfordaysifoffended,withtheairsofaninsulted

duquesa

duchess.

TheonlythingValancylikedaboutherroomwasthatshecouldbealonethereatnighttocryifshewantedto.

But,afterall,whatdiditmatterifaroom,whichyouusedfornothingexceptsleepinganddressingin,wereugly?

Valancywasneverpermittedtostayaloneinherroomforanyotherpurpose.

Peoplewhowantedtobealone,soMrs.FrederickStirlingandCousinSticklesbelieved,couldonlywanttobealoneforsome

sinistro

sinisterpurpose.

ButherroomintheBlueCastlewaseverythingaroomshouldbe.

Valancy,socowedandsubduedandoverriddenandsnubbedinreallife,waswonttoletherselfgorathersplendidlyinherday-dreams.

NobodyintheStirling

clã

clan,oritsramifications,suspectedthis,leastofallhermotherandCousinStickles.

TheyneverknewthatValancyhadtwohomes—theuglyredbrickboxofahome,onElmStreet,andtheBlueCastleinSpain.

ValancyhadlivedspirituallyintheBlueCastleeversinceshecouldremember.

Shehadbeenaverytinychildwhenshefoundherselfpossessedofit.

Always,whensheshuthereyes,shecouldseeit

claramente

plainly,withitsturretsandbannersonthepine-cladmountain

altura

height,wrappedinitsfaint,blueloveliness,againstthesunsetskiesofafairandunknownland.

Everythingwonderfulandbeautifulwasinthatcastle.

Jewelsthatqueensmighthaveworn;

robesofmoonlightandfire;

couchesofrosesandgold;

longflightsof

rasos

shallowmarblesteps,withgreat,whiteurns,andwithslender,mist-cladmaidensgoingupanddownthem;

courts,marble-pillared,whereshimmeringfountainsfellandnightingalessangamongthemyrtles;

hallsofmirrorsthat

refletiam

reflectedonlyhandsomeknightsandlovelywomen—herselftheloveliestofall,forwhose

olhar

glancemendied.

Allthatsupportedherthroughthe

tédio

boredomofherdayswasthehopeofgoingonadreamspreeatnight.

Most,ifnotall,oftheStirlingswouldhavediedof

horror

horroriftheyhadknownhalfthethingsValancydidinherBlueCastle.

Foronethingshehadquiteafewloversinit.

Oh,onlyoneatatime.

Onewhowooedherwithalltheromanticardouroftheageofchivalryandwonherafterlong

devoção

devotionandmanydeedsofderring-do,andwasweddedtoherwithpompand

circunstância

circumstanceinthegreat,banner-hung

capela

chapeloftheBlueCastle.

Attwelve,thisloverwasafair

rapaz

ladwithgoldencurlsand

celestiais

heavenlyblueeyes.

Atfifteen,hewastallanddarkand

pálido

pale,butstillnecessarilyhandsome.

Attwenty,hewasascetic,

sonhador

dreamy,spiritual.

Attwenty-five,hehadaclean-cut

mandíbula

jaw,slightlygrim,andafacestrongand

robusto

ruggedratherthanhandsome.

Valancynevergrewolderthantwenty-fiveinherBlueCastle,butrecently—veryrecently—herherohadhadreddish,tawnyhair,a

torcido

twistedsmileandamysteriouspast.

Idon’tsayValancy

deliberadamente

deliberatelymurderedtheseloversassheoutgrewthem.

Onesimply

desapareceu

fadedawayasanothercame.

ThingsareveryconvenientinthisrespectinBlueCastles.

But,onthismorningofherdayoffate,ValancycouldnotfindthekeyofherBlueCastle.

Realitypressedonhertoohardly,

latindo

barkingatherheelslikeamaddeninglittledog.

Shewastwenty-nine,lonely,undesired,ill-favoured—theonlyhomelygirlinahandsome

clã

clan,withnopastandnofuture.

Asfarasshecouldlookback,lifewasdrabandcolourless,withnotonesingle

carmesim

crimsonorpurplespotanywhere.

Asfarasshecouldlookforwarditseemedcertaintobejustthesameuntilshewasnothingbuta

solitária

solitary,littlewitheredleafclingingtoawintrybough.

Themomentwhenawoman

percebe

realisesthatshehasnothingtolivefor—neitherlove,duty,purposenorhope—holdsforherthe

amargura

bitternessofdeath.

“AndIjusthavetogoonlivingbecauseIcan’tstop.

Imayhavetoliveeightyyears,”thoughtValancy,inakindofpanic.

“We’reall

horrivelmente

horriblylong-lived.

Itsickensmetothinkofit.”

Shewasgladitwasraining—orrather,shewasdrearilysatisfiedthatitwasraining.

Therewouldbeno

piquenique

picnicthatday.

Thisannual

piquenique

picnic,wherebyAuntandUncleWellington—onealwaysthoughtoftheminthatsuccession—inevitablycelebratedtheir

noivado

engagementatapicnicthirtyyearsbefore,hadbeen,oflateyears,averitablenightmaretoValancy.

Byanimpishcoincidenceitwasthesamedayasherbirthdayand,aftershehadpassedtwenty-five,nobodyletherforgetit.

Muchasshehatedgoingtothe

piquenique

picnic,itwouldneverhaveoccurredtoherto

rebelar

rebelagainstit.

Thereseemedtobenothingofthe

revolucionário

revolutionaryinhernature.

Andsheknewexactlywhateveryonewouldsaytoheratthe

piquenique

picnic.

UncleWellington,whomshedislikedand

desprezava

despisedeventhoughhehad

cumprido

fulfilledthehighestStirlingaspiration,“marryingmoney,”wouldsaytoherinapig’s

sussurro

whisper,“Notthinkingofgettingmarriedyet,mydear?”

andthengooffintothebellowoflaughterwithwhichheinvariably

concluiu

concludedhisdullremarks.

AuntWellington,ofwhomValancystoodinabject

temor

awe,wouldtellheraboutOlive’snewchiffondressandCecil’slastdevotedletter.

ValancywouldhavetolookaspleasedandinterestedasifthedressandletterhadbeenhersorelseAuntWellingtonwouldbe

ofenderia

offended.

AndValancyhadlongagodecidedthatshewouldrather

ofender

offendGodthanAuntWellington,becauseGodmightforgiveherbutAuntWellingtonneverwould.

AuntAlberta,enormouslyfat,withanamiable

hábito

habitofalwaysreferringtoherhusbandas“he,”asifheweretheonlymalecreatureintheworld,whocouldneverforgetthatshehadbeenagreatbeautyinheryouth,wouldcondolewithValancyonhersallowskin—.

“Idon’tknowwhyallthegirlsoftodayaresosunburned.

WhenIwasagirlmyskinwasrosesandcream.

IwascountedtheprettiestgirlinCanada,mydear.”

PerhapsUncleHerbertwouldn’tsayanything—orperhapshewouldremarkjocularly,“Howfatyou’regetting,Doss!”

Andtheneverybodywouldlaughovertheexcessivelyhumorousideaofpoor,scrawnylittleDossgettingfat.

Handsome,

solene

solemnUncleJames,whomValancydislikedbutrespectedbecausehewasreputedtobeverycleverandwasthereforethe

clã

clanoracle—brainsbeingnonetooplentifulintheStirlingconnection—wouldprobablyremarkwiththeowl-like

sarcasmo

sarcasmthathadwonhimhisreputation,“Isupposeyou’rebusywithyourhope-chestthesedays?”

AndUncleBenjaminwouldasksomeofhisabominableconundrums,betweenwheezychuckles,andanswerthemhimself.

“WhatisthedifferencebetweenDossandamouse?

“ThemousewishestoharmthecheeseandDosswishestocharmthehe’s.”

Valancyhadheardhimaskthat

enigma

riddlefiftytimesandeverytimeshewantedtothrowsomethingathim.

Butsheneverdid.

Inthefirstplace,theStirlingssimplydidnotthrowthings;

inthesecondplace,UncleBenjaminwasa

rico

wealthyandchildlessoldwidowerandValancyhadbeenbroughtupinthefearandadmonitionofhismoney.

Ifshe

ofendesse

offendedhimhewouldcutheroutofhiswill—supposingshewereinit.

ValancydidnotwanttobecutoutofUncleBenjamin’swill.

Shehadbeenpoorallherlifeandknewthegalling

amargura

bitternessofit.

Soshe

suportou

enduredhisriddlesandevensmiledtorturedlittlesmilesoverthem.

AuntIsabel,downrightanddisagreeableasaneastwind,wouldcriticiseherinsomeway—Valancycouldnot

prever

predictjusthow,forAuntIsabelneverrepeatedacriticism—shefoundsomethingnewwithwhichtojabyoueverytime.

AuntIsabelpridedherselfonsayingwhatshethought,butdidn’tlikeitsowellwhenotherpeoplesaidwhattheythoughttoher.

Valancyneversaidwhatshethought.

CousinGeorgiana—namedafterhergreat-great-grand-mother,whohadbeennamedafterGeorgetheFourth—wouldrecountdolorouslythenamesofallrelativesandfriendswhohaddiedsincethelast

piquenique

picnicandwonder“whichofuswillbethefirsttogonext.”

Oppressively

competente

competent,AuntMildredwouldtalkendlesslyofherhusbandandherodiousprodigiesofbabiestoValancy,becauseValancywouldbetheonlyoneshecouldfindtoputupwithit.

Forthesamereason,CousinGladys—reallyFirstCousinGladysonceremoved,accordingtothe

estrita

strictwayinwhichtheStirlingstabulatedrelationship—atall,thinladywhoadmittedshehadasensitive

disposição

disposition,woulddescribeminutelythetorturesofherneuritis.

And

Olive

Olive,thewondergirlofthewholeStirling

clã

clan,whohadeverythingValancyhadnot—beauty,

popularidade

popularity,love,—wouldshowoffherbeautyand

presumiria

presumeonherpopularityandflauntherdiamondinsigniaofloveinValancy’sdazzled,enviouseyes.

Therewouldbenoneofallthistoday.

Andtherewouldbenopackingupofteaspoons.

ThepackingupwasalwaysleftforValancyandCousinStickles.

Andonce,sixyearsago,asilverteaspoonfromAuntWellington’sweddingsethadbeenlost.

Valancyneverheardthelastofthatsilverteaspoon.

ItsghostappearedBanquo-likeateverysubsequentfamily

festa

feast.

Oh,yes,Valancyknewexactlywhatthe

piquenique

picnicwouldbelikeandsheblessedtherainthathadsavedherfromit.

Therewouldbeno

piquenique

picnicthisyear.

IfAuntWellingtoncouldnotcelebrateonthe

sagrado

sacreddayitselfshewouldhaveno

celebração

celebrationatall.

Thankwhatevergodstherewereforthat.

Sincetherewouldbeno

piquenique

picnic,Valancymadeuphermindthat,iftherainheldupintheafternoon,shewouldgouptothelibraryandgetanotherofJohnFoster’sbooks.

Valancywasneverallowedtoreadnovels,butJohnFoster’sbookswerenotnovels.

Theywere“naturebooks”—sothe

bibliotecário

librariantoldMrs.FrederickStirling—“allaboutthewoodsandbirdsandbugsandthingslikethat,youknow.”

SoValancywasallowedtoreadthem—under

protesto

protest,foritwasonlytoo

evidente

evidentthatsheenjoyedthemtoomuch.

Itwaspermissible,evenlaudable,toreadto

melhorar

improveyourmindandyourreligion,butabookthatwas

agradável

enjoyablewasdangerous.

Valancydidnotknowwhetherhermindwasbeingimprovedornot;

butshefelt

vagamente

vaguelythatifshehadcomeacrossJohnFoster’sbooksyearsagolifemighthavebeenadifferentthingforher.

Theyseemedtohertoyieldglimpsesofaworldintowhichshemightoncehaveentered,thoughthedoorwasforeverbarredtohernow.

ItwasonlywithinthelastyearthatJohnFoster’sbookshadbeenintheDeerwoodlibrary,thoughthe

bibliotecário

librariantoldValancythathehadbeenawell-knownwriterforseveralyears.

“Wheredoeshelive?”

Valancyhadasked.

“Nobodyknows.

FromhisbookshemustbeaCanadian,butnomoreinformationcanbehad.

Hispublisherswon’tsayaword.

QuitelikelyJohn

Foster

Fosterisanomdeplume.

Hisbooksaresopopularwecan’tkeeptheminatall,thoughIreallycan’tseewhatpeoplefindinthemto

rave

raveover.”

“Ithinkthey’rewonderful,”saidValancy,timidly.

“Oh—well—”

MissClarksonsmiledinapatronisingfashionthatrelegatedValancy’sopinionstolimbo,“Ican’tsayIcaremuchforbugsmyself.

Butcertainly

Foster

Fosterseemstoknowallthereistoknowaboutthem.”

Valancydidn’tknowwhethershecaredmuchforbugseither.

ItwasnotJohnFoster’suncannyknowledgeofwildcreaturesandinsectlifethatenthralledher.

Shecouldhardlysaywhatitwas—sometantalising

isca

lureofamysteryneverrevealed—some

sugestão

hintofagreatsecretjustalittlefurtheron—some

fraco

faint,elusiveechooflovely,forgottenthings—JohnFoster’smagicwasindefinable.

Yes,shewouldgetanew

Foster

Fosterbook.

ItwasamonthsinceshehadThistle

Colheita

Harvest,sosurelyMothercouldnotobject.

Valancyhadreaditfourtimes—sheknewwholepassagesoffbyheart.

And—shealmostthoughtshewouldgoandseeDr.Trentaboutthatqueerpainaroundtheheart.

Ithadcomeratheroftenlately,andthepalpitationswerebecomingannoying,nottospeakofan

ocasional

occasionaldizzymomentandaqueershortnessofbreath.

Butcouldshegotoseehimwithouttellinganyone?

Itwasamostdaringthought.

NoneoftheStirlingsever

consultou

consultedadoctorwithoutholdingafamilycouncilandgettingUncleJames’

aprovação

approval.

Then,theywenttoDr.Ambrose

Marsh

MarshofPortLawrence,whohadmarriedSecondCousinAdelaideStirling.

ButValancydislikedDr.Ambrose

Marsh

Marsh.

And,besides,shecouldnotgettoPortLawrence,fifteenmilesaway,withoutbeingtakenthere.

Shedidnotwantanyonetoknowaboutherheart.

Therewouldbesucha

barulho

fussmadeandeverymemberofthefamilywouldcomedownandtalkitoverandadviseherandcautionherandwarnherandtellherhorribletalesofgreat-auntsandcousinsfortytimesremovedwhohadbeen“justlikethat”and“droppeddeadwithoutamoment’swarning,mydear.”

AuntIsabelwouldrememberthatshehadalwayssaidDosslookedlikeagirlwhowouldhavehearttrouble—“sopinchedandpeakedalways”;

andUncleWellingtonwouldtakeitasapersonal

insulto

insult,when“noStirlingeverhadheartdiseasebefore”;

andGeorgianawouldforebodeinperfectlyaudibleasidesthat“poor,dearlittleDossisn’tlongforthisworld,I’mafraid”;

andCousinGladyswouldsay,“Why,myhearthasbeenlikethatforyears,”inatonethat

implicava

impliednooneelsehadanybusinesseventohaveaheart;

andOlive—Olivewouldmerelylookbeautifuland

superior

superioranddisgustinglyhealthy,asiftosay,“WhyallthisfussoverafadedsuperfluitylikeDosswhenyouhaveme?”

Valancyfeltthatshecouldn’ttellanybodyunlessshehadto.

Shefeltquitesuretherewasnothingatallseriouslywrongwithherheartandnoneedofallthepotherthatwouldensueifshementionedit.

ShewouldjustslipupquietlyandseeDr.Trentthatveryday.

Asforhisbill,shehadthetwohundreddollarsthatherfatherhadputinthebankforherthedayshewasborn.

Shewasneverallowedtouseeventheinterestofthis,butshewould

secretamente

secretlytakeoutenoughtopayDr.Trent.

Dr.

Trentwasagruff,outspoken,absent-mindedoldfellow,buthewasarecognisedauthorityonheartdisease,evenifhewereonlyageneralpractitionerinout-of-the-worldDeerwood.

Dr.Trentwasoverseventyandtherehadbeenrumoursthathemeantto

aposentar

retiresoon.

NoneoftheStirling

clã

clanhadevergonetohimsincehehadtoldCousinGladys,tenyearsbefore,thatherneuritiswasallimaginaryandthatsheenjoyedit.

Youcouldn’tpatroniseadoctorwho

insultou

insultedyourfirst-cousin-once-removedlikethat—nottomentionthathewasaPresbyterianwhenalltheStirlingswenttotheAnglicanchurch.

Capítulo

CHAPTERII

WhenCousinSticklesknockedatherdoor,Valancyknewitwashalf-pastsevenandshemustgetup.

Aslongasshecouldremember,CousinStickleshadknockedatherdoorathalf-pastseven.

CousinSticklesandMrs.FrederickStirlinghadbeenupsinceseven,butValancywasallowedtolieabedhalfanhourlongerbecauseofafamily

tradição

traditionthatshewasdelicate.

Valancygotup,thoughshehatedgettingupmorethismorningthanevershehadbefore.

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