Doctor 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.There would have been a fitness in her being pretty and graceful, intelligent and distinguished- for her mother had been the most charming woman of her little day- and as regards her father, of course he knew his own value.He had moments of irritation at having produced a commonplace child, and he even went so far at times as to take a certain satisfaction in the thought that his wife had not lived to find her out.He was naturally slow in making this discovery himself, and it was not till Catherine had become a young lady grown that he regarded the matter as settled.He gave her the benefit of a great many doubts; he was in no haste to conclude.
Mrs.Penniman frequently assured him that his daughter had a delightful nature; but he knew how to interpret this assurance.It meant, to his sense, that Catherine was not wise enough to discover that her aunt was a goose- a limitation of mind that could not fail to be agreeable to Mrs.Penniman.Both she and her brother, however, exaggerated the young girl's limitations; for Catherine, though she was very fond of her aunt, and conscious of the gratitude she owed her, regarded her without a particle of that gentle dread which gave its stamp to her admiration of her father.To her mind there was nothing of the infinite about Mrs.Penniman; Catherine saw her all at once, as it were, and was not dazzled by the apparition; whereas her father's great faculties seemed, as they stretched away, to lose themselves in a sort of luminous vagueness, which indicated, not that they stopped, but that Catherine's own mind ceased to follow them.
It must not be supposed that Doctor Sloper visited his disappointment upon the poor girl, or ever let her suspect that she had played him a trick.On the contrary, for fear of being unjust to her, he did his duty with exemplary zeal, and recognized that she was a faithful and affectionate child.Besides, he was a philosopher: He smoked a good many cigars over his disappointment, and in the fullness of time he got used to it.He satisfied himself that he had expected nothing, though, indeed, with a certain oddity of reasoning."I expect nothing," he said to himself, "so that, if she gives me a surprise, it will be all clear gain.If she doesn't, it will be no loss." This was about the time Catherine had reached her eighteenth year; so that it will be seen her father had not been precipitate.At this time she seemed not only incapable of giving surprises; it was almost a question whether she could have received one- she was so quiet and irresponsive.People who expressed themselves roughly called her stolid.But she was irresponsive because she was shy, uncomfortably, painfully shy.This was not always understood, and she sometimes produced an impression of insensibility.
In reality, she was the softest creature in the world.
