He had sent me a present of a book about cocks and hens, largely illustrated4. I was sitting in the store-room poring over it in the dreary5 society of Mrs. Clement6, the new housekeeper7. The previous one, Mrs. Dudley, I remember vaguely8 as a stern unsympathetic person, with crimped iron-grey hair under a voluminous cap trimmed with puce ribbons. She once forced me to swallow a Gregory-powder in a delusive10 snare11 of black-currant jam. I must have swallowed medicines before and since, and yet the taste and smell and look of that nauseous [Pg 61]powder are still with me whenever my mind reverts12 to those days. Hence my delight when I learned that Mrs. Dudley was going away, and my cordial welcome of her successor, Mrs. Clement.
"So she's in here," somebody cried, rapping with a stick upon the door ajar.
I looked up from my book and saw a wonderful sight, of which I was afterwards vividly14 reminded in a French school by a picture of the famous "Postillon de Longjumeau," a jaunty15 figure with a pointed16 black beard and a tall wide-brimmed hat on one side. He bore himself gallantly17, wore top-boots, a long coat with several little capes18 to it, and carried a smart riding-whip in his hand. This was my godfather.
I had never seen him before, and to my lasting19 regret I have never seen him since. He was out in '48, was proscribed20, and had wandered about strange lands. He died in China, having first sent my mother a pretty case of Imperial tea, which she distributed in minute portions to all her friends, measuring the tea out with a small silver egg-cup. As fast as each consumed her portion, she returned for another, and as my mother had always a greater pleasure in giving than in receiving, my godfather's present was soon exhausted21.
I remember being swung up in the air and shrieking22 in pretended fright, for children, sensational23 and dramatic little creatures, must persuade themselves there is an element of peril24 and adventure in their tamest diversions. Not to imagine oneself afraid is to miss the peculiar25 zest26 of enjoyment27.
When I was seated gravely on his knee, my godfather asked me to spell out a few lines of his book.
"Cocks and hens—eh? Just suit a little girl from the country," he laughed, helping28 me to hold the book.
"I had a little dog at Mamma Cochrane's. I liked it better than cocks and hens," I protested meekly30.
"Wants a dog now, does she? Queer little woman! She's still too pale, Mrs. Clement, much too pale and thin. Fretting31 for her Mamma Cochrane, I suppose. Well, I'll see if I can't get her a nice dog with curly hair, that'll cry 'Bow-wow' when you pull its tail. Know where China is, missy?"
I had heard of a china doll, and my Mamma Cochrane had two beautiful black-and-white china dogs. I supposed at once that China was a land where the dogs and dolls were all of china,[Pg 63] and I wondered if the people were of china too. My godfather laughed as only a big man with a beard seems to be able to laugh. I was sure you could hear him down in the hall and up in the nursery. It was very comforting, that loud laugh, and I became instantly communicative, and told him all I knew about America and New York. He said it took a much bigger boat to go to China, which was farther off than New York, and that there were crocodiles in the rivers that ate men, and there was so much sunshine that the people were quite yellow.
After that, whenever it was unusually sunny, I was safe to astonish somebody by saying I supposed it was always like that in China. Somehow, the image of my jovial32 godfather was melted in a great glare of yellow light, through which yellow faces came and went, up and down long rivers, where unknown monsters, understood to be crocodiles, tossed about in a ruthless quest of man.
Mrs. Clement, the housekeeper, is another portrait that stands out in luminous9 relief from a crowd of unremembered faces. Her dress was seemingly as unalterable as a uniform. It consisted of a black silk gown, very wide at the base and gathered in at a slim waist, a white lawn[Pg 64] fichu trimmed with delicate lace, and fastened with a gold brooch containing the features of a young man with a dark moustache.
I never dared to ask her who the young man was. She was kind to me, but she kept me at arm's-length by her terrible sadness, and infant curiosity was the last thing she encouraged. Her face was pale, her thin yellow hair was pale, and her blue eyes were pale. Those faded hues33 suited the melancholy34 of her smile and regard.
Seeing me persecuted35 and unhappy, she took me under her protection, and would let me sit for hours at her feet in the storeroom, while she mended linen36.
I read to her, and when I was tired of reading I told her stories of my past. Like grown-up mourners, it relieved me to talk of my sorrow and describe the paradise down there beside the pond and the applewoman's stall.
She listened with mild interest, and I was not so engrossed37 in my own troubles as not to remark the sadness of Mrs. Clement. The children up-stairs were sure she had committed some dreadful murder, and was brooding in remorseful38 reminiscence. They did not like her, because she once scolded them for their treatment of me; but nothing they could say would induce me to think[Pg 65] ill of my melancholy friend, and I continued to sit at her feet and watch her in wonder and awe40.
Her niece Eily came into our service shortly afterwards. She had a beautiful fresh face like a wild-flower, made up of sweet dark-blue eyes, a blossom of a mouth, and morning hues upon her cheek. She was a girl made to beguile41 sense and sternness, and transform the lion to a lamb. Everybody immediately loved her, she had such a delicious way of saying "Ah, sure!" and lifting up a pair of the most Irish of eyes in bewitching appeal.
My parents adopted her as a sort of daughter, and a mere42 hint of a lover at her heels was enough to wake the Quixote in my stepfather. They married her afterwards to a promising43 young Englishman, my father giving her away and my mother supplying the trousseau.
The Englishman was so enamoured of all things Irish that he gave the most flagrantly Hibernian names to his children, in opposition44 to Eily's romantic tastes, who adored every out-of-the-way name of fiction. When I met them, years afterwards, his affected45 drawl and pretty suspicion of lisp managed to give a foreign charm to our common name "Paddy," by which the eldest46 boy was called.
Eily's face was just the same wild-flower, a little faded and drawn47, and "Ah, sure!" was still on the tip of her tongue in all the beguiling48 glamour49 of Erin. But what a sad change! Tears looked fatally near the surface, and the smile was deprecating and anxious.
She had fallen from petted servitude into troubled servitude, and longed for the clatter50 of her aunt's household keys among the linen and china and preserve-presses of the storeroom. She longed for my stepfather's cheery "Well, Eily, little puss," and instead had to listen to an exacting51 husband's complaints of her deficiencies as housekeeper and sick-nurse. He had married a bird, and grumbled52 incessantly53 because it lacked the solid capacities of a cow.
"And your aunt, Eily?" I asked.
"Poor aunt died long ago. She never recovered the death of her only child, Frank, who was drowned going out to America."
So the young man in the brooch was Mrs. Clement's son, after all, and her melancholy, that had so puzzled my childhood, was not the gloom of remorse39 but the stamp of a common bereavement54.
By the side of my grandfather's avenue of rose-trees ran a neighbour's garden. My [Pg 67]grandfather was on nodding terms with his neighbour; but there sometimes came a bright-faced lad with a flaxen down upon his upper lip. His name caught my fancy, and I thought a fairy prince could not have a finer one. It now represents to the world a figure so very different from the vague but pleasant profile memory likes to dwell upon, that I permit myself to doubt if that kind boy and the O'Donovan Rossa of New York can be the same person.
The stripling I recall seems to me to have been eternally singing or whistling. I specially55 remember one song he was fond of—"Love among the Roses."
He would look across the low hedge and sing out, "Where's my little wife?" I kept it as a delightful56 secret from all the world that I was married to a boy called O'Donovan Rossa. The world is a cold confidant in such delicate matters, and has a way of looking as if it did not take little children seriously.
But O'Donovan Rossa had a little sister of his own whom he loved devotedly57, so he knew all about little girls and their ways, and appeared to understand my conversation. So few grown-up people do understand the conversation of children, and children know this.
He would spring over the hedge just like a mythical58 personage, and tumble unexpectedly on the grass-plot beside me, and my daisy-chains were matter of absorbing interest to him. Then what stories he had about blue dragon-flies, humming-birds, and bewitched crows! You may imagine if I looked forward to visits to grandpapa Cameron's cottage, with such a prospective59 attraction.
I did not disdain60 the rougher friendship of Dennis, my grandfather's gardener. He was a cheery individual with a very red face. He once gave me an orange and a penny when I arrived with cheeks and eyelids61 swollen62 from crying, with a conviction that I could bear my sorrows no longer. I ate my orange, and suddenly the world seemed brighter, and when I went off alone to purchase a pennyworth of crab-apples at a fruit-shop hard by, I began to take pleasure at the thought of to-morrow.
I was further consoled by one of grandpapa's shining five-shilling pieces, and then Dennis called me to fetch him a tool, shouting, "Look sharp now, and do something for your living," and I was so enchanted that all sense of desolation and ill-usage left me.
It is so easy to make a child happy that it is a[Pg 69] mystery to me how the art is not universal with grown-up persons.
Among the blurred memories of days so remote is a ball given in the big town house. The excitement could not but reach us up-stairs beneath the stars. The nurse and housemaid were equally aflame, and stood watching the guests from the corner of the topmost landing, that commanded a glimpse of the drawing-room lobby. The rustle63 of silk and the sort of perfumed chatter64 that belongs to gatherings65 in full dress reached us, broken and vague like the beautiful fancies of dreams. Our little feet pattered with yearning67 to be down below in the thick of social pleasures, and we shouted out our recognition of each side face as a guest crossed the lobby. It was not the brilliant assortment68 of silks and satins and laces, the gleam of jewelled array, or the chatter that intoxicated69 me; it was the first blast of music that rolled up to us, and the penetrating70 charm of the fiddles71.
I was always less looked after than the others, and watching my opportunity, I slipped down-stairs in my nightdress; I felt I must hear those fiddles nearer, and see how people looked when they danced. Mrs. Clement saw me a few steps above the drawing-rooms, and wanted to carry[Pg 70] me back to bed; but I prayed so hard for one look, that she took me into her arms, and, skirting the lobby, went in on tip-toe to the cardroom, at the top of the drawing-rooms, where several persons were playing at little tables. Some of the guests looked up at the melancholy lady in black silk with the little child in its night-dress, staring in bewilderment at them. But Mrs. Clement placed her finger on her lips, and they smiled at me and continued their play.
They were playing "Il Bacio," and even now I can never hear that tinkling72 waltz without a throb73. It brought tears to my eyes then, and all night it formed the accompaniment of my dreams. The only couple I clearly saw in that paradise of colour, light, scent74, and sound was my stepfather, who whirled past us with a tall dark girl in amber75 satin, who was smiling most radiantly as she danced.
This girl springs into my pictures of childhood in an odd inconsequent way. She was very handsome, of the sparkling brunette type, with white teeth, and hard bright eyes as black as the hair that rippled76 low down on either temple, and was caught under the ear in an old-fashioned bunch of ringlets. She was under my mother's protection, who was very kind and generous to[Pg 71] her, having an inscrutable liking77 for strangers,—above all, needy78 strangers. She was a woman to turn her back inevitably79 upon a friend in prosperity, and court him in poverty. There was nothing of the snob80 in my mother, I must admit.
Another vivid picture I have of this young girl is a gloomier and more impressive one. I cannot tell why I was chosen for that drive. I suppose it was because I looked so delicate and unhappy that my stepfather insisted on having me. He drove a pair of spirited horses, and I sat opposite my mother and the dark young girl. She did not smile once that day, and the extreme sadness of her face riveted81 my attention. I thought I had never seen any one so beautiful and interesting, and I wondered why her eyes kept continually filling with tears.
She and my mother whispered mysteriously from time to time, and the disconnected words that reached my ears were no enlightenment for my puzzled brain. Ordinarily I was too dreamy or too excited to have much curiosity for my fellows. I preferred my own thoughts to speculations82 upon creatures so dull and undiverting as big people. But this day it was different. A brilliant young lady in long dresses, with a glittering ring upon her finger, whom my parents[Pg 72] treated with every kindness and consideration, could be just as miserable83 apparently84 as a small neglected girl. It was truly a wonderful discovery.
We drove along the Kilmainham road, I now know, and as we went farther north, the pretty girl's tears flowed more freely, only she did not cry as we children cry. She bit her lips, and every moment thrust her handkerchief angrily into her eyes. My mother seemed to scold her for having wished to come that way, and I thought wanted to divert her attention from something the girl was evidently anxious to see.
We stopped near a large building, and there was my stepfather turned towards us and talking a strange jargon85. From dint86 of puzzling over each word, I arrived at the extraordinary conclusion that somebody this young girl loved was in prison, that it was not wicked apparently to be locked up in prison, and that the woodwork they were gazing at, my stepfather with his hat in his hand, was something bad men were getting ready for her friend's destruction. The young girl stared up at the woodwork with streaming passionate87 eyes, and then buried her face in her handkerchief, and rocked from side to side in a dreadful way. We were driving on,[Pg 73] and I gazed up to see what my stepfather was doing. He, too, was wiping away tears, and his hat was right down upon his eyes.
The mystery was solved years afterward13. This girl was engaged to a political prisoner recently condemned88 to death. My mother used to take her to see him at Kilmainham Jail, and she had insisted on being driven round by the prison the day before the execution.
My grandmother lies farther back, a fainter picture in that world of unsatisfactory grown-up people. While she lived, her favourite present to each of her granddaughters was either a grey or green silk dress, with a poky bonnet89 and ribbons to match. In the grey we must have looked like little Quakeresses, and in the green like a gathering66 of the "gentle people" out of the moonlit woods, our proper dominion90.
Her I remember indistinctly as a thin-lipped, unpleasant-looking woman, who had a fixed91 opinion that children must either be "saucy92" or "bold." I was bold, because I was always too frightened of her to say anything, saucy or meek29.
She used to lie in bed or on the parlour sofa, sipping93 egg-flip and reading religious books. She was very devout94; but her religion, I suspect,[Pg 74] served neither to brighten her own nor any one else's life. It had a sombre, vinegary aspect, more concerned with punishment due than pleasure merited, more attuned95 to severity than Christian96 mildness.
By some unaccountable process she melted out of my existence, having darkened it for some months, from which I infer that her death passed unnoted by me or was not explained to me. I did not see her dead, and can record no gentle deed of hers living. She never kissed me, but sometimes shook my hand in a loose gentlemanly fashion, and exhorted97 me not to be so "bold."
Once she nearly broke my heart. The cook had made some damson jam, and while I was alone in the parlour turning over the leaves of one of grandpapa's music-books, which looked so mysteriously wonderful to me, she carried in a specimen98 bowl, and left it on the table with some loose coppers99. I still see that bowl. It was white, and had a wreath of pink roses.
When I tired of my music-book, I wandered by a natural impulse into temptation. The bowl was out of my reach, but I soon remedied that by drawing over a chair and climbing upon it. I dipped my finger into the bowl, and then put[Pg 75] it into my mouth. It tasted, as indeed I fully100 anticipated, good. You may imagine the alacrity101 with which I continued the operation, without any heed102 of the blotches103 of jam that dropped upon the table.
Both the hall-door and parlour-door were open, and I heard loud sobbing104. I was acquainted with sorrow myself, which was a reason I never heard a child's cry unmoved. I slipped off my chair, and ran out into the hall.
A ragged105 little follow sat on the doorstep, crying as if his heart would burst. I raced down the steps, and sat by his side to comfort him. He had cut his foot, and I asked him if it would not hurt less if he had some apples to eat. Crab-apples always soothed106 my own immeasurable woes107 and lightened the pangs108 of solitude109 for me. The weeping boy looked at me sullenly110, and nodded.
In I flew again and came out with the coppers grasped in my jammy palm, and holding the bowl of damson jam tightly wedged between my pinafore and both hands.
"There's splendid jam here," I said, and invited the sufferer to dip his finger into the bowl.
He did so, and stopped crying. He was quite consoled, and nearly emptied the bowl in the[Pg 76] avidity of his appreciation111. Then I gave him the coppers, and told him the name of the shop where he could get lots of the nicest crab-apples. The hall-door was still open, and the parlour was empty when I carried back the bowl. I left it on the table, and went out into the garden to talk to Dennis.
I had no idea of having done wrong. At nurse's I was free to take what I liked, and I was not at all familiar with the sin of stealing. Judge, then, my surprise when cook came out for me with a flaming face, and assured me I "would catch it." I stopped playing, and felt chill with apprehension112. What was going to happen to me now? Grandpapa was not there to protect me, and I had not much faith in Dennis's power to save me.
Cook dragged me up-stairs, scolding me all the way. She called me a thief, a robber, and said I was worse than the dreadful highwaymen they wrote of in books. I whimperingly protested. I was not a thief, I cried indignantly; I was not a robber. I did not know what a highwayman was, but I was sure I was not that either.
"Ah! you'll catch it," was all cook deigned113 to reply.
How grossly and wickedly mismanaged children are by people who do not think or stop to study them! So many tears and tremors114 and moments of black despair, because angry and impatient persons will not take the trouble to use the right words and correct with justice and sense. To abuse an ignorant little child in disproportionate language, at an age when imagination exaggerates and magnifies everything, for an impulsive115 action and an inconsequent error, and tell her "she would catch it," is surely a hideous116 perversion117 of strength and power.
Relatively118 speaking, that moment was not less vivid and awful for me than the worst hour of a heretic in the days of the Inquisition. And I had as little faith in the justice or kindness of my judges as any wretch119 of those times.
My grandmother sat in bed with her glass of egg-flip in her hand, presiding relentlessly120 over my castigation121. Again I was informed that my crime was an appalling122 one. I had robbed money and robbed jam. There was no softening123 of my grandmother's face when I said, through my sobs124 of terror, that I only took the money to give it to a little boy that had hurt his foot and was crying. Cook administered an unmerciful whipping, as if there were not beatings[Pg 78] enough for me without cause down in the big town house I hated.
No, verily; there are times, when I look at happier children to-day and remember that poor unhappy little child of years ago, I feel there are wrongs we cannot be expected to forgive, scars no time can efface125, blunders no after good will ever rectify126. I could weep to-day as bitterly for that little child, so alone, so throbbing127 with untamed fears, as ever she wept for herself then.
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1
blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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clement
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| adj.仁慈的；温和的 | |
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housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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luminous
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| adj.发光的，发亮的；光明的；明白易懂的；有启发的 | |
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delusive
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| adj.欺骗的，妄想的 | |
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snare
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| n.陷阱，诱惑，圈套；（去除息肉或者肿瘤的）勒除器；响弦，小军鼓；vt.以陷阱捕获，诱惑 | |
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reverts
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| 恢复( revert的第三人称单数 )； 重提； 回到…上； 归还 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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jaunty
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| adj．愉快的，满足的；adv.心满意足地，洋洋得意地；n.心满意足；洋洋得意 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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capes
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| 碎谷； 斗篷( cape的名词复数 )； 披肩； 海角； 岬 | |
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lasting
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| adj.永久的，永恒的；vbl.持续，维持 | |
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proscribed
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| v.正式宣布（某事物）有危险或被禁止( proscribe的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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shrieking
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| v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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sensational
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| adj.使人感动的，非常好的，轰动的，耸人听闻的 | |
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peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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zest
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| n.乐趣；滋味，风味；兴趣 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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fretting
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| n. 微振磨损 adj. 烦躁的, 焦虑的 | |
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jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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hues
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| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
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melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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persecuted
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| （尤指宗教或政治信仰的）迫害(~sb. for sth.)( persecute的过去式和过去分词 )； 烦扰，困扰或骚扰某人 | |
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linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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engrossed
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| adj.全神贯注的 | |
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remorseful
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| adj.悔恨的 | |
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remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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beguile
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| vt.欺骗，消遣 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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48
beguiling
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| adj.欺骗的，诱人的v.欺骗( beguile的现在分词 )；使陶醉；使高兴；消磨（时间等） | |
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49
glamour
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| n.魔力，魅力；vt.迷住 | |
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50
clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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51
exacting
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| adj.苛求的，要求严格的 | |
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52
grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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53
incessantly
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| ad.不停地 | |
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54
bereavement
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| n.亲人丧亡，丧失亲人，丧亲之痛 | |
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55
specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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56
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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57
devotedly
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| 专心地； 恩爱地； 忠实地； 一心一意地 | |
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58
mythical
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| adj.神话的；虚构的；想像的 | |
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59
prospective
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| adj.预期的，未来的，前瞻性的 | |
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60
disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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61
eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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62
swollen
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| adj.肿大的，水涨的；v.使变大，肿胀 | |
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63
rustle
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| v.沙沙作响；偷盗(牛、马等)；n.沙沙声声 | |
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64
chatter
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| vi.／n.喋喋不休；短促尖叫；(牙齿)打战 | |
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65
gatherings
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| 聚集( gathering的名词复数 )； 收集； 采集； 搜集 | |
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66
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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67
yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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68
assortment
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| n.分类，各色俱备之物，聚集 | |
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69
intoxicated
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| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
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70
penetrating
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| adj.（声音）响亮的，尖锐的adj.（气味）刺激的adj.（思想）敏锐的，有洞察力的 | |
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71
fiddles
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| n.小提琴( fiddle的名词复数 )；欺诈；（需要运用手指功夫的）细巧活动；当第二把手v.伪造( fiddle的第三人称单数 )；篡改；骗取；修理或稍作改动 | |
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72
tinkling
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| n.丁当作响声 | |
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73
throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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74
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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75
amber
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| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
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76
rippled
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| 使泛起涟漪（ripple的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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77
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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78
needy
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| adj.贫穷的，贫困的，生活艰苦的 | |
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inevitably
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| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
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snob
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| n.势利小人，自以为高雅、有学问的人 | |
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81
riveted
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| 铆接( rivet的过去式和过去分词 )； 把…固定住； 吸引； 引起某人的注意 | |
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82
speculations
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| n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 )；思考；投机活动；推断 | |
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83
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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84
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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85
jargon
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| n.术语，行话 | |
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86
dint
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| n.由于，靠；凹坑 | |
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87
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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88
condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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89
bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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90
dominion
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| n.统治，管辖，支配权；领土，版图 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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92
saucy
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| adj.无礼的；俊俏的；活泼的 | |
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93
sipping
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| v.小口喝，呷，抿( sip的现在分词 ) | |
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94
devout
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| adj.虔诚的，虔敬的，衷心的 (n.devoutness) | |
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95
attuned
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| v.使协调( attune的过去式和过去分词 )；调音 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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97
exhorted
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| v.劝告，劝说( exhort的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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98
specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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99
coppers
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| 铜( copper的名词复数 )； 铜币 | |
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100
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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101
alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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102
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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103
blotches
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| n.（皮肤上的）红斑，疹块( blotch的名词复数 )；大滴 [大片]（墨水或颜色的）污渍 | |
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104
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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105
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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106
soothed
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| v.安慰( soothe的过去式和过去分词 )；抚慰；使舒服；减轻痛苦 | |
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107
woes
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| 困境( woe的名词复数 )； 悲伤； 我好苦哇； 某人就要倒霉 | |
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108
pangs
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| 突然的剧痛( pang的名词复数 )； 悲痛 | |
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109
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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110
sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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111
appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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112
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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113
deigned
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| v.屈尊，俯就( deign的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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114
tremors
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| 震颤( tremor的名词复数 )； 战栗； 震颤声； 大地的轻微震动 | |
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115
impulsive
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| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
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116
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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117
perversion
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| n.曲解；堕落；反常 | |
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118
relatively
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| adv.比较...地，相对地 | |
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119
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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120
relentlessly
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| adv.不屈不挠地；残酷地；不间断 | |
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121
castigation
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| n.申斥，强烈反对 | |
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122
appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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123
softening
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| 变软，软化 | |
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124
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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125
efface
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| v.擦掉，抹去 | |
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126
rectify
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| v.订正，矫正，改正 | |
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127
throbbing
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| a. 跳动的,悸动的 | |
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