This was just what she had been afraid he would say; and yet she had no answer ready.Of course she would have liked to take it as a joke- as her father must have meant it; and yet she would have liked also, in denying it, to be a little positive, a little sharp, so that he would perhaps not ask the question again.She didn't like it- it made her unhappy.But Catherine could never be sharp; and for a moment she only stood, with her hand on the doorknob, looking at her satiric parent, and giving a little laugh.
"Decidedly," said the doctor to himself, "my daughter is not brilliant!"But he had no sooner made this reflection than Catherine found something; she had decided, on the whole, to take the thing as a joke.
"Perhaps he will do it the next time," she exclaimed, with a repetition of her laugh; and she quickly got out of the room.
The doctor stood staring; he wondered whether his daughter were serious.Catherine went straight to her own room, and by the time she reached it she bethought herself that there was something else-something better- she might have said.She almost wished, now, that her father would ask his question again, so that she might reply, "Oh yes, Mr.Morris Townsend proposed to me, and I refused him."The doctor, however, began to put his questions elsewhere; it naturally having occurred to him that he ought to inform himself properly about this handsome young man, who had formed the habit of running in and out of his house.He addressed himself to the elder of his sisters, Mrs.Almond- not going to her for the purpose; there was no such hurry as that; but having made a note of the matter for the first opportunity.The doctor was never eager, never impatient or nervous; but he made notes of everything, and he regularly consulted his notes.Among them the information he obtained from Mrs.Almond about Morris Townsend took its place.
"Lavinia has already been to ask me," she said."Lavinia is most excited; I don't understand it.It's not, after all, Lavinia that the young man is supposed to have designs upon.She is very peculiar.""Ah, my dear," the doctor replied, "she has not lived with me these twelve years without my finding it out.""She has got such an artificial mind," said Mrs.Almond, who always enjoyed an opportunity to discuss Lavinia's peculiarities with her brother."She didn't want me to tell you that she had asked me about Mr.Townsend; but I told her I would.She always wants to conceal everything.""And yet at moments no one blurts things out with such crudity.
She is like a revolving lighthouse- pitch darkness alternating with a dazzling brilliancy! But what did you tell her?" the doctor asked.
"What I tell you- that I know very little of him.""Lavinia must have been disappointed at that," said the doctor."She would prefer him to have been guilty of some romantic crime.