Her father suspected Morris Townsend's visits, and
noted her reserve. She seemed to beg pardon for it; she looked at
him constantly in silence, as if she meant to say that she said
nothing because she was afraid of irritating him. But the poor
girl's dumb eloquence irritated him more than anything else would
have done, and he caught himself murmuring more than once that it was
a grievous pity his only child was a simpleton. His murmurs,
however, were inaudible; and for a while he said nothing to any one.
He would have liked to know exactly how often young Townsend came;
but he had determined to ask no questions of the girl herself--to say
nothing more to her that would show that he watched her. The Doctor
had a great idea of being largely just: he wished to leave his
daughter her liberty, and interfere only when the danger should be
proved. It was not in his manner to obtain information by indirect
methods, and it never even occurred to him to question the servants.
As for Lavinia, he hated to talk to her about the matter; she annoyed
him with her mock romanticism. But he had to come to this. Mrs.
Penniman's convictions as regards the relations of her niece and the
clever young visitor who saved appearances by coming ostensibly for
both the ladies--Mrs. Penniman's convictions had passed into a riper
and richer phase. There was to be no crudity in Mrs. Penniman's
treatment of the situation; she had become as uncommunicative as
Catherine herself.
Pages:
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74