We have just spoken of M. Gillenormand's two daughters. They had come into the world ten years apart. In their youth they had borne very little resemblance to each other, either in character or countenance, and had also been as little like sisters to each other as possible. The youngest had a charming soul, which turned towards all that belongs to the light, was occupied with flowers, with verses, with music, which fluttered away into glorious space, enthusiastic, ethereal, and was wedded from her very youth, in ideal, to a vague and heroic figure. The elder had also her chimera; she espied in the azure some very wealthy purveyor, a contractor, a splendidly stupid husband, a million made man, or even a prefect; the receptions of the Prefecture, an usher in the antechamber with a chain on his neck, official balls, the harangues of the town-hall, to be "Madame la Prefete,"--all this had created a whirlwind in her imagination. Thus the two sisters strayed, each in her own dream, at the epoch when they were young girls. Both had wings, the one like an angel, the other like a goose.
No ambition is ever fully realized, here below at least. No paradise becomes terrestrial in our day. The younger wedded the man of her dreams, but she died. The elder did not marry at all.
At the moment when she makes her entrance into this history which we are relating, she was an antique virtue, an incombustible prude, with one of the sharpest noses, and one of the most obtuse minds that it is possible to see. A characteristic detail; outside of her immediate family, no one had ever known her first name. She was called Mademoiselle Gillenormand, the elder.
In the matter of cant, Mademoiselle Gillenormand could have given points to a miss. Her modesty was carried to the other extreme of blackness. She cherished a frightful memory of her life; one day, a man had beheld her garter.
Age had only served to accentuate this pitiless modesty. Her guimpe was never sufficiently opaque, and never ascended sufficiently high. She multiplied clasps and pins where no one would have dreamed of looking. The peculiarity of prudery is to place all the more sentinels in proportion as the fortress is the less menaced.
Nevertheless, let him who can explain these antique mysteries of innocence, she allowed an officer of the Lancers, her grand nephew, named Theodule, to embrace her without displeasure.
In spite of this favored Lancer, the label: Prude, under which we have classed her, suited her to absolute perfection. Mademoiselle Gillenormand was a sort of twilight soul. Prudery is a demi-virtue and a demi-vice.
To prudery she added bigotry, a well-assorted lining. She belonged to the society of the Virgin, wore a white veil on certain festivals, mumbled special orisons, revered "the holy blood," venerated "the sacred heart," remained for hours in contemplation before a rococo-jesuit altar in a chapel which was inaccessible to the rank and file of the faithful, and there allowed her soul to soar among little clouds of marble, and through great rays of gilded wood.
She had a chapel friend, an ancient virgin like herself, named Mademoiselle Vaubois, who was a positive blockhead, and beside whom Mademoiselle Gillenormand had the pleasure of being an eagle. Beyond the Agnus Dei and Ave Maria, Mademoiselle Vaubois had no knowledge of anything except of the different ways of making preserves. Mademoiselle Vaubois, perfect in her style, was the ermine of stupidity without a single spot of intelligence.
Let us say it plainly, Mademoiselle Gillenormand had gained rather than lost as she grew older. This is the case with passive natures. She had never been malicious, which is relative kindness; and then, years wear away the angles, and the softening which comes with time had come to her. She was melancholy with an obscure sadness of which she did not herself know the secret. There breathed from her whole person the stupor of a life that was finished, and which had never had a beginning.
She kept house for her father. M. Gillenormand had his daughter near him, as we have seen that Monseigneur Bienvenu had his sister with him. These households comprised of an old man and an old spinster are not rare, and always have the touching aspect of two weaknesses leaning on each other for support.
There was also in this house, between this elderly spinster and this old man, a child, a little boy, who was always trembling and mute in the presence of M. Gillenormand. M. Gillenormand never addressed this child except in a severe voice, and sometimes, with uplifted cane: "Here, sir! rascal, scoundrel, come here!-- Answer me, you scamp! Just let me see you, you good-for-nothing!" etc., etc. He idolized him.
This was his grandson. We shall meet with this child again later on.
关于吉诺曼先生的两个女儿，我们刚才已经提了一下，她俩出生的年代前后相距十年。她们在年轻时彼此就很不相象，无论在性情或面貌方面，都很难看出她们是姊妹俩。小的那个是个可爱的人儿，凡是属于光明的事物都能吸引她，她爱花木、诗歌和音乐，仰慕灿烂寥廓的天空，热情，爽朗，还是孩子时，她的理想就是把自己许给一个隐隐约约的英雄人物。大的那个也有她的幻想：她见到空中有个买卖人，一个又好又胖又极阔气的军火商，一个非常出色的蠢丈夫，一个金光四射的男子，或是，一个省长；省政府里的宴会，颈子上挂根链条、立在前厅里伺候的传达吏，公家举办的舞会，市政府的讲演，做省长夫人。这一切，就是萦绕在她想象中的东西。这两姊妹，在当姑娘的岁月里便那样各自做着各人的梦，各走各的路。她们俩都有翅膀，一个象天使，一个象鹅。
任何想象都是不能完全实现的，至少在这世界上是这样。在我们这时代，没有一个天堂是实际的。那妹子已嫁给了意中人，但是她死了。姐姐却没有结过婚。
那姐姐从我们现在谈着的这故事里出现时，已是一块纯洁的古白玉、一根烧不着的老木头，她有着人从没见到过的尖鼻子和一个从没见到过的迟钝的脑袋。一件突出的小事是，除了她家里极少的几个人外，谁也不知道她的小名，大家都称她为吉诺曼大姑娘。
说到为人谨饬方面，吉诺曼大姑娘尽可赛过密斯①。那已发展到一种难以忍受的拘谨。在一生中她有件想到就害怕的往事，一天，有个男人看见了她的吊袜带。
①英国姑娘以拘谨见称。
岁月只增强了这种无情的腼腆。她总嫌她的围巾不够厚，也老怕它围得不够高。她在那些谁也不会想到要去看一下的地方添上无数的钩扣和别针。束身自爱的本义就是：堡垒未受威胁而偏要步步设防。
可是，看看有谁能猜透老妇人这种天真的心事，她常让一个长矛骑兵军官，一个名叫忒阿杜勒的侄孙去吻她，并且不无快感。
尽管她有这样一个心爱的长矛兵，我们仍称她为腼腆拘谨的老妇人还是绝对恰当的。吉诺曼姑娘原有一种半明不暗的灵魂。腼腆拘谨也正是一种善恶参半的性格。
她除了腼腆拘谨以外还笃信上帝，表里相得益彰。她是童贞圣母善堂的信女，在某些节日她戴上白面罩，哼哼唧唧念着一些特殊的经文，拜“圣血”，敬“圣心”，跟着许多忠实的信徒一同关在一间小礼拜堂里，待在一座耶稣会式样的古老祭台前凝视几个钟头，让她的灵魂在几块云烟似的云石中和金漆长木条栅栏内外往复穿越飘游。
她在礼拜堂里交了一个朋友，和她一样是个老处女，名叫弗波瓦姑娘，绝对呆头呆脑，吉诺曼姑娘乐于和她相处，好显出自己是头神鹰。除了念《上帝的羔羊》和《圣母颂》以外，弗波瓦姑娘的本领就只有做各种果酱了。弗波瓦姑娘是她那种人中的典型，是一头冥顽不灵、没有一点聪明的银鼠。
让我们指出，吉诺曼姑娘在进入老年的岁月里，不但毫无所获，反而一年不如一年。那是不自振作的人的必然趋势。她从来不对旁人生恶念，那是一种相当好的品质；后来，岁月磨尽棱角，时间进一步向她下软化功夫。她只是感到忧伤，一种没有来由的忧伤，她自己也不知道原因何在。她感到人生还没有开始便已经要结束了，她的声音笑貌行动，处处显出那么一种恓惶困惑的味儿。
她代她父亲主持家务。吉诺曼先生身边有女儿，正如我们从前见过的那位卞福汝主教身边有妹子。这种由一个老头子和一个老姑娘组成的家庭是一点不稀罕的，那种两老相依为命的情景总会令人怅然神往。
在这家人里，除了那个老姑娘和那老头以外，还有一个小孩，一个在吉诺曼先生面前便会发抖沉默的小男孩。吉诺曼先生和那孩子说话没有一次不是狠巴巴的，有时还举起手杖：“来！先生！坏蛋，淘气鬼，走过来！回答我，奴怪！让我看看你，小流氓！”他说些诸如此类的话，但心里可确是疼他。
那是他的外孙。我们以后还会见到这个孩子。