📝 您未登录，登录后完成练习可保存成绩、查看最佳记录。
总字符
0
正确字符
0
错误字符
0
错误率
0.00%
耗时(秒)
0
速度 WPM
0
0 / 70
1It was done; and Catherine found herself alone in the gallery before the clocks had ceased to strike. It was no time for
2thought; she hurried on, slipped with the least possible noise through the folding doors, and without stopping to look
3or breathe, rushed forward to the one in question. The lock yielded to her hand, and, luckily, with no sullen sound that
4could alarm a human being. On tiptoe she entered; the room was before her; but it was some minutes before she could
5advance another step. She beheld what fixed her to the spot and agitated every feature. She saw a large,
6well-proportioned apartment, an handsome dimity bed, arranged as unoccupied with an housemaid's care, a bright Bath
7stove, mahogany wardrobes, and neatly painted chairs, on which the warm beams of a western sun gaily poured through two
8sash windows! Catherine had expected to have her feelings worked, and worked they were. Astonishment and doubt first
9seized them; and a shortly succeeding ray of common sense added some bitter emotions of shame. She could not be mistaken
10as to the room; but how grossly mistaken in everything else!--in Miss Tilney's meaning, in her own calculation! this
11apartment, to which she had given a date so ancient, a position so awful, proved to be one end of what the General's
12father had built. There were two other doors in the chamber, leading probably into dressing-closets; but she had no
13inclination to open either. Would the veil in which Mrs. Tilney had last walked, or the volume in which she had last
14read, remain to tell what nothing else was allowed to whisper? No: whatever might have been the General's crimes, he had
15certainly too much wit to let them sue for detection. She was sick of exploring, and desired but to be safe in her own
16room, with her own heart only privy to its folly; and she was on the point of retreating as softly as she had entered,
17when the sound of footsteps, she could hardly tell where, made her pause and tremble. To be found there, even by a
18servant, would be unpleasant; but by the General (and he seemed always at hand when least wanted), much worse! she
19listened--the sound had ceased; and resolving not to lose a moment, she passed through and closed the door. At that
20instant a door underneath was hastily opened; someone seemed with swift steps to ascend the stairs, by the head of which
21she had yet to pass before she could gain the gallery. She had no power to move. With a feeling of terror not very
22definable, she fixed her eyes on the staircase, and in a few moments it gave Henry to her view. "Mr. Tilney!" she
23exclaimed in a voice of more than common astonishment. He looked astonished too. "Good God!" she continued, not
24attending to his address. "How came you here? How came you up that staircase?" "How came I up that staircase!" he
25replied, greatly surprised. "Because it is my nearest way from the stable-yard to my own chamber; and why should I not
26come up it?" Catherine recollected herself, blushed deeply, and could say no more. He seemed to be looking in her
27countenance for that explanation which her lips did not afford. She moved on towards the gallery. "And may I not, in my
28turn," said he, as he pushed back the folding doors, "ask how you came here? This passage is at least as extraordinary a
29road from the breakfast-parlour to your apartment, as that staircase can be from the stables to mine." "I have been,"
30said Catherine, looking down, "to see your mother's room." "My mother's room! is there anything extraordinary to be seen
31there?" "No, nothing at all. I thought you did not mean to come back till to-morrow." "I did not expect to be able to
32return sooner, when I went away; but three hours ago I had the pleasure of finding nothing to detain me. You look pale.
33I am afraid I alarmed you by running so fast up those stairs. Perhaps you did not know--you were not aware of their
34leading from the offices in common use?" "No, I was not. You have had a very fine day for your ride." "Very; and does
35Eleanor leave you to find your way into all the rooms in the house by yourself?" "Oh no! she showed me over the greatest
36part on Saturday--and we were coming here to these rooms--but only," dropping her voice, "your father was with us." "And
37that prevented you," said Henry, earnestly regarding her. "Have you looked into all the rooms in that passage?" "No, I
38only wanted to see--Is not it very late? I must go and dress." "It is only a quarter past four," showing his watch; "and
39you are not now in Bath. No theatre, no rooms to prepare for. Half an hour at Northanger must be enough." She could not
40contradict it, and therefore suffered herself to be detained, though her dread of further questions made her, for the
41first time in their acquaintance, wish to leave him. They walked slowly up the gallery. "Have you had any letter from
42Bath since I saw you?" "No, and I am very much surprised. Isabella promised so faithfully to write directly." "Promised
43so faithfully! a faithful promise! that puzzles me. I have heard of a faithful performance. But a faithful promise--the
44fidelity of promising! it is a power little worth knowing, however, since it can deceive and pain you. My mother's room
45is very commodious, is it not? Large and cheerful-looking, and the dressing-closets so well disposed! It always strikes
46me as the most comfortable apartment in the house, and I rather wonder that Eleanor should not take it for her own. She
47sent you to look at it, I suppose?" "No." "It has been your own doing entirely?" Catherine said nothing. After a short
48silence, during which he had closely observed her, he added, "As there is nothing in the room in itself to raise
49curiosity, this must have proceeded from a sentiment of respect for my mother's character, as described by Eleanor,
50which does honour to her memory. The world, I believe, never saw a better woman. But it is not often that virtue can
51boast an interest such as this. The domestic, unpretending merits of a person never known do not often create that kind
52of fervent, venerating tenderness which would prompt a visit like yours. Eleanor, I suppose, has talked of her a great
53deal?" "Yes, a great deal. That is--no, not much, but what she did say was very interesting. Her dying so suddenly"
54(slowly, and with hesitation it was spoken), "and you--none of you being at home--and your father, I thought--perhaps
55had not been very fond of her." "And from these circumstances," he replied (his quick eye fixed on hers), "you infer
56perhaps the probability of some negligence--some"--(involuntarily she shook her head)--"or it may be--of something still
57less pardonable." She raised her eyes towards him more fully than she had ever done before. "My mother's illness," he
58continued, "the seizure which ended in her death, was sudden. The malady itself, one from which she had often suffered,
59a bilious fever--its cause therefore constitutional. On the third day, in short, as soon as she could be prevailed on, a
60physician attended her, a very respectable man, and one in whom she had always placed great confidence. Upon his opinion
61of her danger, two others were called in the next day, and remained in almost constant attendance for four and twenty
62hours. On the fifth day she died. During the progress of her disorder, Frederick and I (we were both at home) saw her
63repeatedly; and from our own observation can bear witness to her having received every possible attention which could
64spring from the affection of those about her, or which her situation in life could command. Poor Eleanor was absent, and
65at such a distance as to return only to see her mother in her coffin." "But your father," said Catherine, "was he
66afflicted?" "For a time, greatly so. You have erred in supposing him not attached to her. He loved her, I am persuaded,
67as well as it was possible for him to--we have not all, you know, the same tenderness of disposition--and I will not
68pretend to say that while she lived, she might not often have had much to bear, but though his temper injured her, his
69judgment never did. His value of her was sincere; and, if not permanently, he was truly afflicted by her death." "I am
70very glad of it," said Catherine; "it would have been very shocking!"
🎉 全部完成！共 70 行