In Mary Shelley's Frankenstein, as the creature has watched the DeLacey family throughout the winter and into the spring, he has learned a great deal. They have, unknowingly, been his teachers. He has learned not only about music and language, but he has also learned about the love of a family for its members and the love between and man and a woman. He has come to understand the depth of his own loneliness.
The creature hopes to be able to find a way to make a connection with this family and become a part of their circle. The creature has already been secretly doing things to ease their burden and make life easier: gathering wood and clearing the snow, for example. They ironically credit a kind spirit for these things, and while that is what the creature is (for he has told Frankenstein that he was made for love), his appearance is something that these people would not, will not, understand.
The creature believes that he might approach them if he had a command of their language. And he has learned from them, but knows he needs to learn more.
'I improved, however, sensibly in this science, but not sufficiently to follow up any kind of conversation, although I applied my whole mind to the endeavour: for I easily perceived that, although I eagerly longed to discover myself to the cottagers, I ought not to make the attempt until I had first become master of their language; which knowledge might enable me to make them overlook the deformity of my figure...
This will continue to be uppermost in the creature's mind as he continues to work to master their language, and he will ultimately approach the old man first because he is blind; he believes that if Felix and Agatha's father could accept the creature for who he is rather than reject him immediately because of his appearance, the creature might be able to find a way through the old man, to be welcomed into their family circle.