And poor Catherine was not
sulky--a style of behaviour for which she had too little histrionic
talent; she was simply very patient. Of course she was thinking over
her situation, and she was apparently doing so in a deliberate and
unimpassioned manner, with a view of making the best of it.
"She will do as I have bidden her," said the Doctor, and he made the
further reflexion that his daughter was not a woman of a great
spirit. I know not whether he had hoped for a little more resistance
for the sake of a little more entertainment; but he said to himself,
as he had said before, that though it might have its momentary
alarms, paternity was, after all, not an exciting vocation.
Catherine, meanwhile, had made a discovery of a very different sort;
it had become vivid to her that there was a great excitement in
trying to be a good daughter. She had an entirely new feeling, which
may be described as a state of expectant suspense about her own
actions. She watched herself as she would have watched another
person, and wondered what she would do. It was as if this other
person, who was both herself and not herself, had suddenly sprung
into being, inspiring her with a natural curiosity as to the
performance of untested functions.
"I am glad I have such a good daughter," said her father, kissing
her, after the lapse of several days.
"I am trying to be good," she answered, turning away, with a
conscience not altogether clear.
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