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The Blue Castle | Progressive Translation Books for Spanish B1 Learners

The Blue Castle | Progressive Translation Books for Spanish B1 Learners

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,toAuntWellington’sengagementpicnicandDr.TrentwouldhavegonetoMontreal.
Butitdidrainandyoushallhearwhathappenedtoherbecauseofit.
Valancywakenedearly,inthelifeless,hopelesshourjustpreceding
amanecer
dawn.
Shehadnotsleptverywell.
Onedoesnotsleepwell,sometimes,whenoneistwenty-nineonthemorrow,andunmarried,ina
comunidad
communityandconnectionwheretheunmarriedaresimplythosewhohave
fracasado
failedtogetaman.
DeerwoodandtheStirlingshadlongsincerelegatedValancytohopelessoldmaidenhood.
ButValancyherselfhadneverquiterelinquishedacertainpitiful,shamed,littlehopethatRomancewouldcomeherwayyet—never,untilthiswet,
horrible
horriblemorning,whenshewakenedtothefactthatshewastwenty-nineandunsoughtbyanyman.
Ay,therelaythesting.
Valancydidnotmindsomuchbeinganold
doncella
maid.
Afterall,shethought,beinganold
doncella
maidcouldn’tpossiblybeasdreadfulasbeingmarriedtoanUncleWellingtonoranUncleBenjamin,orevenanUncleHerbert.
Whathurtherwasthatshehadneverhadachancetobeanythingbutanold
doncella
maid.
Nomanhadever
deseado
desiredher.
Thetearscameintohereyesasshelaytherealoneinthefaintlygreying
oscuridad
darkness.
Shedarednotletherselfcryashardasshewantedto,fortworeasons.
Shewasafraidthatcryingmightbringonanotherattackofthatpainaroundtheheart.
Shehadhada
hechizo
spellofitaftershehadgotintobed—ratherworsethananyshehadhadyet.
Andshewasafraidhermotherwouldnoticeherredeyesatbreakfastandkeepatherwithminute,persistent,mosquito-likequestionsregardingthecausethereof.
“Suppose,”thoughtValancywithaghastlygrin,“Iansweredwiththeplaintruth,‘IamcryingbecauseIcannotgetmarried.’HowhorrifiedMotherwouldbe—thoughsheisashamedeverydayofherlifeofherold
doncella
maiddaughter.”
Butofcourseappearancesshouldbekeptup.
“Itisnot,”Valancycouldhearhermother’sprim,dictatorialvoiceasserting,“itisnotmaidenlytothinkaboutmen.”
Thethoughtofhermother’sexpressionmadeValancylaugh—forshehadasenseofhumournobodyinherclan
sospechaba
suspected.
Forthatmatter,therewereagoodmanythingsaboutValancythatnobody
sospechaba
suspected.
Butherlaughterwasverysuperficialandpresentlyshelaythere,ahuddled,futilelittlefigure,listeningtotherainpouringdownoutsideandwatching,withasickdistaste,thechill,mercilesslightcreepingintoherugly,sordidroom.
Sheknewtheuglinessofthatroombyheart—knewitandhatedit.
Theyellow-paintedfloor,withonehideous,“hooked”rugbythebed,withagrotesque,“hooked”dogonit,alwaysgrinningatherwhenshe
despertaba
awoke;
thefaded,dark-redpaper;
theceilingdiscolouredbyoldleaksandcrossedbycracks;
thenarrow,pinchedlittlewashstand;
thebrown-paperlambrequinwithpurple
rosas
rosesonit;
thespottedoldlooking-glasswiththe
grieta
crackacrossit,proppedupontheinadequatedressing-table;
thejarof
antiguo
ancientpotpourrimadebyhermotherinhermythicalhoneymoon;
theshell-coveredbox,withoneburst
esquina
corner,whichCousinStickleshadmadeinherequallymythicalgirlhood;
thebeadedpincushionwithhalfitsbeadfringegone;
theonestiff,yellow
silla
chair;
thefadedoldmotto,“Gonebutnotforgotten,”workedincolouredyarnsaboutGreat-grand-motherStirling’sgrimoldface;
theoldphotographsofancientrelativeslongbanishedfromtherooms
abajo
below.
Therewereonlytwopicturesthatwerenotofrelatives.
One,anoldchromoofapuppysittingonarainydoorstep.
ThatpicturealwaysmadeValancy
infeliz
unhappy.
Thatforlornlittledogcrouchedonthedoorstepinthedrivingrain!
Whydidn’tsomeoneopenthedoorandlethimin?
Theotherpicturewasafaded,passe-partoutedengravingofQueenLouisecomingdownastairway,whichAuntWellingtonhadlavishlygivenheronhertenthbirthday.
Fornineteenyearsshehadlookedatitandhatedit,beautiful,smug,self-satisfiedQueenLouise.
Butsheneverdareddestroyitorremoveit.
MotherandCousinStickleswouldhavebeenaghast,or,asValancyirreverently
expresó
expresseditinherthoughts,wouldhavehadafit.
Everyroominthehousewasugly,ofcourse.
Butdownstairsappearanceswerekeptupsomewhat.
Therewasnomoneyforroomsnobodyeversaw.
Valancysometimesfeltthatshecouldhavedonesomethingforherroomherself,evenwithoutmoney,ifshewerepermitted.
ButhermotherhadnegativedeverytimidsuggestionandValancydidnotpersist.
Valancyneverpersisted.
Shewasafraidto.
Hermothercouldnotbrookopposition.
Mrs.Stirlingwouldsulkfordaysifoffended,withtheairsofaninsultedduchess.
TheonlythingValancylikedaboutherroomwasthatshecouldbealonethereatnighttocryifshewantedto.
But,afterall,whatdiditmatterifaroom,whichyouusedfornothingexceptsleepinganddressingin,wereugly?
Valancywasneverpermittedtostayaloneinherroomforanyother
propósito
purpose.
Peoplewhowantedtobealone,soMrs.FrederickStirlingandCousinSticklesbelieved,couldonlywanttobealoneforsomesinister
propósito
purpose.
ButherroomintheBlue
Castillo
Castlewaseverythingaroomshouldbe.
Valancy,socowedandsubduedandoverriddenandsnubbedinreallife,waswonttoletherselfgorathersplendidlyinherday-dreams.
NobodyintheStirlingclan,oritsramifications,
sospechaba
suspectedthis,leastofallhermotherandCousinStickles.
TheyneverknewthatValancyhadtwohomes—theuglyredbrickboxofahome,onElmStreet,andtheBlue
Castillo
CastleinSpain.
ValancyhadlivedspirituallyintheBlue
Castillo
Castleeversinceshecouldremember.
Shehadbeenaverytinychildwhenshefoundherselfpossessedofit.
Always,whensheshuthereyes,shecouldseeitplainly,withitsturretsandbannersonthepine-clad
montaña
mountainheight,wrappedinitsfaint,blueloveliness,againstthesunsetskiesofafairandunknownland.
Everythingwonderfulandbeautifulwasinthat
castillo
castle.
Jewelsthatqueensmighthaveworn;
robesofmoonlightandfire;
couchesof
rosas
rosesandgold;
longflightsofshallowmarblesteps,withgreat,whiteurns,andwithslender,mist-cladmaidensgoingupanddownthem;
courts,marble-pillared,whereshimmeringfountainsfellandnightingalessang
entre
amongthemyrtles;
hallsofmirrorsthatreflectedonlyhandsomeknightsandlovelywomen—herselftheloveliestofall,forwhoseglancemendied.
Allthatsupportedherthroughtheboredomofherdayswasthehopeofgoingonadreamspreeatnight.
Most,ifnotall,oftheStirlingswouldhavediedofhorroriftheyhadknownhalfthethingsValancydidinherBlue
Castillo
Castle.
Foronethingshehadquiteafewloversinit.
Oh,onlyoneatatime.
Onewhowooedherwithallthe
romántico
romanticardouroftheageofchivalryandwonherafterlongdevotionandmanydeedsofderring-do,andwasweddedtoherwithpompandcircumstanceinthegreat,banner-hungchapeloftheBlue
Castillo
Castle.
Attwelve,thisloverwasafairladwithgoldencurlsandheavenlyblueeyes.
Atfifteen,hewastallanddarkandpale,butstillnecessarily
guapo
handsome.
Attwenty,hewasascetic,dreamy,spiritual.
Attwenty-five,hehadaclean-cutjaw,slightlygrim,andafacestrongandruggedratherthan
guapo
handsome.
Valancynevergrewolderthantwenty-fiveinherBlue
Castillo
Castle,butrecently—veryrecently—herherohadhadreddish,tawnyhair,atwistedsmileandamysteriouspast.
Idon’tsayValancydeliberatelymurderedtheseloversassheoutgrewthem.
Onesimplyfadedawayasanothercame.
ThingsareveryconvenientinthisrespectinBlueCastles.
But,onthismorningofherdayoffate,ValancycouldnotfindthekeyofherBlue
Castillo
Castle.
Realitypressedonhertoohardly,barkingatherheelslikeamaddeninglittledog.
Shewastwenty-nine,lonely,undesired,ill-favoured—theonlyhomelygirlina
guapo
handsomeclan,withnopastandnofuture.
Asfarasshecouldlookback,lifewasdrabandcolourless,withnotonesinglecrimsonorpurplespotanywhere.
Asfarasshecouldlookforwarditseemedcertaintobejustthesameuntilshewasnothingbutasolitary,littlewitheredleafclingingtoawintrybough.
Themomentwhenawomanrealisesthatshehasnothingtolivefor—neitherlove,duty,
propósito
purposenorhope—holdsforherthebitternessofdeath.
“AndIjusthavetogoonlivingbecauseIcan’tstop.
Imayhavetoliveeightyyears,”thoughtValancy,inakindof
pánico
panic.
“We’reallhorriblylong-lived.
Itsickensmetothinkofit.”
Shewasgladitwasraining—orrather,shewasdrearilysatisfiedthatitwasraining.
Therewouldbenopicnicthatday.
Thisannualpicnic,wherebyAuntandUncleWellington—onealwaysthoughtoftheminthatsuccession—inevitably
celebraban
celebratedtheirengagementatapicnicthirtyyearsbefore,hadbeen,oflateyears,averitable
pesadilla
nightmaretoValancy.
Byanimpish
coincidencia
coincidenceitwasthesamedayasherbirthdayand,aftershehadpassedtwenty-five,nobodyletherforgetit.
Muchasshehatedgoingtothepicnic,itwouldneverhaveoccurredtohertorebelagainstit.
Thereseemedtobenothingoftherevolutionaryinhernature.
Andsheknewexactlywhateveryonewouldsaytoheratthepicnic.
UncleWellington,whomshedislikedanddespisedeventhoughhehadfulfilledthehighestStirlingaspiration,“marryingmoney,”wouldsaytoherinapig’swhisper,“Notthinkingofgettingmarriedyet,mydear?”
andthengooffintothebellowof
risa
laughterwithwhichheinvariablyconcludedhisdullremarks.
AuntWellington,ofwhomValancystoodinabjectawe,wouldtellheraboutOlive’snewchiffondressandCecil’slastdevotedletter.
ValancywouldhavetolookaspleasedandinterestedasifthedressandletterhadbeenhersorelseAuntWellingtonwouldbeoffended.
AndValancyhadlongagodecidedthatshewouldratheroffendGodthanAuntWellington,becauseGodmightforgiveherbutAuntWellingtonneverwould.
AuntAlberta,enormouslyfat,withanamiablehabitofalwaysreferringtoherhusbandas“he,”asifheweretheonlymale
criatura
creatureintheworld,whocouldneverforgetthatshehadbeenagreatbeautyinher
juventud
youth,wouldcondolewithValancyonhersallowskin—.
“Idon’tknowwhyallthegirlsoftodayaresosunburned.
WhenIwasagirlmyskinwas
rosas
rosesandcream.
IwascountedtheprettiestgirlinCanada,mydear.”
PerhapsUncleHerbertwouldn’tsayanything—orperhapshewouldremarkjocularly,“Howfatyou’regetting,Doss!”
Andtheneverybodywouldlaughovertheexcessivelyhumorousideaofpoor,scrawnylittleDossgettingfat.
Guapo
Handsome,solemnUncleJames,whomValancydislikedbutrespectedbecausehewasreputedtobevery
inteligente
cleverandwasthereforetheclanoracle—brainsbeingnonetooplentifulintheStirlingconnection—wouldprobablyremarkwiththeowl-likesarcasmthathadwonhimhisreputation,“Isupposeyou’rebusywithyourhope-chestthesedays?”
AndUncleBenjaminwouldasksomeofhisabominableconundrums,betweenwheezychuckles,andanswerthemhimself.
“WhatisthedifferencebetweenDossanda
ratón
mouse?
“Themousewishesto
dañar
harmthecheeseandDosswishestocharmthehe’s.”
Valancyhadheardhimaskthatriddlefiftytimesandeverytimeshewantedtothrowsomethingathim.
Butsheneverdid.
Inthefirstplace,theStirlingssimplydidnotthrowthings;
inthesecondplace,UncleBenjaminwasawealthyandchildlessoldwidowerandValancyhadbeenbroughtupinthefearandadmonitionofhismoney.
Ifsheoffendedhimhewouldcutheroutofhiswill—supposingshewereinit.
ValancydidnotwanttobecutoutofUncleBenjamin’swill.
Shehadbeenpoorallherlifeandknewthegallingbitternessofit.
Sosheenduredhisriddlesandevensmiledtorturedlittlesmilesoverthem.
AuntIsabel,downrightanddisagreeableasaneastwind,wouldcriticiseherinsomeway—Valancycouldnotpredictjusthow,forAuntIsabelnever
repetía
repeatedacriticism—shefoundsomethingnewwithwhichtojabyoueverytime.
AuntIsabelpridedherselfonsayingwhatshethought,butdidn’tlikeitsowellwhenotherpeoplesaidwhattheythoughttoher.
Valancyneversaidwhatshethought.
CousinGeorgiana—namedafterhergreat-great-grand-mother,whohadbeennamedafterGeorgetheFourth—wouldrecountdolorouslythenamesofallrelativesandfriendswhohaddiedsincethelastpicnicandwonder“whichofuswillbethefirsttogonext.”
Oppressivelycompetent,AuntMildredwouldtalkendlesslyofherhusbandandherodiousprodigiesofbabiestoValancy,becauseValancywouldbetheonlyoneshecouldfindtoputupwithit.
Forthesamereason,CousinGladys—reallyFirstCousinGladysonceremoved,accordingtothestrictwayinwhichtheStirlingstabulatedrelationship—atall,
delgada
thinladywhoadmittedshehada
sensible
sensitivedisposition,woulddescribeminutelythetorturesofherneuritis.
AndOlive,thewondergirlofthewholeStirlingclan,whohadeverythingValancyhadnot—beauty,popularity,love,—wouldshowoffherbeautyandpresumeonherpopularityandflaunther
diamante
diamondinsigniaofloveinValancy’sdazzled,enviouseyes.
Therewouldbenoneofallthistoday.
Andtherewouldbenopackingupofteaspoons.
ThepackingupwasalwaysleftforValancyandCousinStickles.
Andonce,sixyearsago,asilverteaspoonfromAuntWellington’sweddingsethadbeenlost.
Valancyneverheardthelastofthatsilverteaspoon.
Itsghost
apareció
appearedBanquo-likeateverysubsequentfamilyfeast.
Oh,yes,Valancyknewexactlywhatthepicnicwouldbelikeandshe
bendijo
blessedtherainthathadsavedherfromit.
Therewouldbenopicnicthisyear.
IfAuntWellingtoncouldnot
celebrar
celebrateonthesacreddayitselfshewouldhavenocelebrationatall.
Thankwhatevergodstherewereforthat.
Sincetherewouldbenopicnic,Valancymadeuphermindthat,iftherainheldupintheafternoon,shewouldgouptothe
biblioteca
libraryandgetanotherofJohnFoster’sbooks.
Valancywasneverallowedtoreadnovels,butJohnFoster’sbookswerenotnovels.
Theywere“naturebooks”—sothelibrariantoldMrs.FrederickStirling—“allaboutthewoodsandbirdsandbugsandthingslikethat,youknow.”
SoValancywasallowedtoreadthem—underprotest,foritwasonlytooevidentthatsheenjoyedthemtoomuch.
Itwaspermissible,evenlaudable,toreadtoimproveyourmindandyour
religión
religion,butabookthatwasenjoyablewasdangerous.
Valancydidnotknowwhetherhermindwasbeingimprovedornot;
butshefeltvaguelythatifshehadcomeacrossJohnFoster’sbooksyearsagolifemighthavebeenadifferentthingforher.
Theyseemedtohertoyieldglimpsesofaworldintowhichshemightoncehave
entrado
entered,thoughthedoorwasforeverbarredtohernow.
ItwasonlywithinthelastyearthatJohnFoster’sbookshadbeenintheDeerwood
biblioteca
library,thoughthelibrariantoldValancythathehadbeenawell-known
escritor
writerforseveralyears.
“Wheredoeshelive?”
Valancyhadasked.
“Nobodyknows.
FromhisbookshemustbeaCanadian,butnomoreinformationcanbehad.
Hispublisherswon’tsayaword.
Quite
probable
likelyJohnFosterisanomdeplume.
Hisbooksaresopopularwecan’tkeeptheminatall,thoughIreallycan’tseewhatpeoplefindinthemtoraveover.”
“Ithinkthey’rewonderful,”saidValancy,timidly.
“Oh—well—”
MissClarksonsmiledinapatronising
manera
fashionthatrelegatedValancy’sopinionstolimbo,“Ican’tsayIcaremuchforbugsmyself.
ButcertainlyFosterseemstoknowallthereistoknowaboutthem.”
Valancydidn’tknowwhethershecaredmuchforbugseither.
ItwasnotJohnFoster’suncanny
conocimiento
knowledgeofwildcreaturesandinsectlifethatenthralledher.
Shecouldhardlysaywhatitwas—sometantalisinglureofa
misterio
mysteryneverrevealed—somehintofagreatsecretjustalittlefurtheron—somefaint,elusiveechooflovely,forgottenthings—JohnFoster’smagicwasindefinable.
Yes,shewouldgetanewFosterbook.
ItwasamonthsinceshehadThistleHarvest,sosurelyMothercouldnot
objetar
object.
Valancyhadreaditfourtimes—sheknewwholepassagesoffbyheart.
And—shealmostthoughtshewouldgoandseeDr.Trentaboutthatqueerpainaroundtheheart.
Ithadcomeratheroften
últimamente
lately,andthepalpitationswerebecomingannoying,nottospeakofanoccasionaldizzymomentandaqueershortnessofbreath.
Butcouldshegotoseehimwithouttellinganyone?
Itwasamostdaringthought.
NoneoftheStirlingseverconsultedadoctorwithoutholdingafamilycouncilandgettingUncleJames’approval.
Then,theywenttoDr.AmbroseMarshofPortLawrence,whohadmarriedSecondCousinAdelaideStirling.
ButValancydislikedDr.AmbroseMarsh.
And,besides,shecouldnotgettoPortLawrence,fifteenmilesaway,withoutbeingtakenthere.
Shedidnotwantanyonetoknowaboutherheart.
Therewouldbesuchafussmadeandeverymemberofthefamilywouldcomedownandtalkitoverandadviseherandcautionherand
advertirían
warnherandtellherhorribletalesofgreat-auntsandcousinsfortytimesremovedwhohadbeen“justlikethat”and“droppeddeadwithoutamoment’s
advertencia
warning,mydear.”
AuntIsabelwouldrememberthatshehadalwayssaidDosslookedlikeagirlwhowouldhavehearttrouble—“sopinchedandpeakedalways”;
andUncleWellingtonwouldtakeitasapersonalinsult,when“noStirlingeverhadheart
enfermedad
diseasebefore”;
andGeorgianawouldforebodein
perfectamente
perfectlyaudibleasidesthat“poor,dearlittleDossisn’tlongforthisworld,I’mafraid”;
andCousinGladyswouldsay,“Why,myhearthasbeenlikethatforyears,”ina
tono
tonethatimpliednooneelsehadanybusinesseventohaveaheart;
andOlive—Olivewouldmerelylookbeautifulandsuperioranddisgustinglyhealthy,asiftosay,“WhyallthisfussoverafadedsuperfluitylikeDosswhenyouhaveme?”
Valancyfeltthatshecouldn’ttellanybodyunlessshehadto.
Shefeltquitesuretherewasnothingatallseriouslywrongwithherheartandnoneedofallthepotherthatwouldensueifshementionedit.
Shewouldjust
deslizaría
slipupquietlyandseeDr.Trentthatveryday.
Asforhisbill,shehadthetwohundreddollarsthatherfatherhadputinthebankforherthedayshewasborn.
Shewasneverallowedtouseeventheinterestofthis,butshewouldsecretlytakeoutenoughtopayDr.Trent.
Dr.
Trentwasagruff,outspoken,absent-mindedoldfellow,buthewasarecognised
autoridad
authorityonheartdisease,evenifhewereonlyageneralpractitionerinout-of-the-worldDeerwood.
Dr.Trentwasoverseventyandtherehadbeenrumoursthathemeanttoretiresoon.
NoneoftheStirlingclanhadevergonetohimsincehehadtoldCousinGladys,tenyearsbefore,thatherneuritiswasallimaginaryandthatsheenjoyedit.
Youcouldn’tpatroniseadoctorwhoinsultedyourfirst-cousin-once-removedlikethat—nottomentionthathewasaPresbyterianwhenalltheStirlingswenttotheAnglicanchurch.
CHAPTERII
WhenCousinSticklesknockedatherdoor,Valancyknewitwashalf-pastsevenandshemustgetup.
Aslongasshecouldremember,CousinStickleshadknockedatherdoorathalf-pastseven.
CousinSticklesandMrs.FrederickStirlinghadbeenupsinceseven,butValancywasallowedtolieabedhalfanhourlongerbecauseofafamilytraditionthatshewasdelicate.
Valancygotup,thoughshehatedgettingupmorethismorningthanevershehadbefore.