The visitor was Mrs. Cumberland. For once in her life Mrs. Cumberland emerged from her shell of indifference3 and condescended4 to show a little of the curiosity of ordinary people. She had come to Mrs. Gass's to see the funeral pass: and that lady made much of her, for their meetings were rare. Mrs. Cumberland was also in black silk: but she rarely wore anything else. The two women sat together, talking in subdued5 voices of bygone times: not that they had known each other then; but each had interest in the past. Mrs. Gass was full of respect, never presuming on her elevation6; though they were sisters-in-law, she did not forget that she had once been only a servant in Mrs. Cumberland's family. They had little in common, though, and the topics of conversation exhausted7 themselves. Mrs. Cumberland was of a silent nature, not at all given to gossip in general. She began to think the waiting long. For the convenience of two mourners, who were coming from a distance, the funeral had been put off until four o'clock.
"Holidays don't improve the working class--unless they've the sense to use 'em as they ought," observed Mrs. Gass. "Just look at them three, ma'am. They've been at the tap--and more shame to 'em! They'd better let Mr. Richard catch his eye upon 'em. Putting themselves into that state, when he is following his brother to the grave."
She alluded8 to some men belonging to the Dallory Works, closed to-day. They had taken more than was becoming, and were lounging against the opposite shutters10, quarrelling together. Mrs. Gass could bear it no longer; in defiance11 of appearances she drew up the blind and dashed open the window.
"Are you three men not ashamed of yourselves? I thought it was you, Dawson! When there's any ill-doing going on, you're safe to be in it. As to you, Thomas, you'll not like to show your face tomorrow. Don't come to me again, Smith, to beg grace for you of Mr. Richard North."
The men slunk away and disappeared down an entry. Mrs. Gass, in one sense of the word, was their mistress; at any rate, their master's partner. She closed the window and drew down the blind.
"Are the men paid for to-day, or do they lose it?" asked Mrs. Cumberland.
"They're paid, ma'am, of course. It would be very unjust to dock them when the holiday's none of their making. Neither Mr. Richard nor me would like to be unjust."
"And he--Richard--seems to act entirely12 for his father."
Mrs. Gass coughed. "Mr. North is took up with his garden, and that; he don't care to bother his head about business. It's better in younger hands."
Another pause. Mrs. Cumberland felt weary.
"Is this funeral ever coming?" she exclaimed. "There seems to be some delay."
"It was a late hour to fix it for, ma'am. Old Sir what's-his-name wrote word he couldn't be here before the afternoon; so they put it off to four o'clock for his convenience."
Mrs. Cumberland looked up inquiringly. She did not understand.
"I mean young Bohun's relatives, ma'am. Madam's brother-in-law by her first husband."
"Sir Nash Bohun! Is he coming?"
"Sir Nash; that's the name," remarked Mrs. Gass. "I know when Mr. Richard said it, it put me in mind of grinding the teeth."
"What could have induced them to ask him?" wondered Mrs. Cumberland. "He is no relative."
"It sounds grand to have him, ma'am--and that's all she thinks of," returned Mrs. Gass, with slighting allusion13 to madam. "Or maybe, as it was an uncommon14 death, they want to make it an uncommon funeral. I look upon it as no better than a murder."
"It is very strange about that piece of paper," observed Mrs. Cumberland.
She lowered her voice as she spoke15, as if the subject would not bear the broad light of day. Any surprise, greater than appeared in Mrs. Gass's face at hearing it could not well be imagined.
"Ma'am! Did he tell you of that?"
"Did who tell me?"
"Your son."
They looked questioningly at each other; both unconscious that they were alluding16 to two totally different circumstances. Cross-purposes are sometimes productive of more evil than straightforward17 ones.
It appeared that a night or two after Edmund North's death, Captain Bohun found in his own desk a sheet of folded notepaper in an envelope. It contained a few words in Edmund's handwriting, not apparently18 addressed to any one in particular, but to the world in general. No date was added, but the ink looked fresh, as if it had recently been written.
"When the end comes, make no fuss with me, but bury me quietly out of sight.--E. N."
Captain Bohun, not having the faintest idea as to who put it in his desk, or how it came there, carried it to Richard North. Richard showed it to his father. Thence it spread to the house, and to one or two others. Opinions were divided. Mr. North thought his ill-fated son had intended to allude9 to his own death: must have felt some foreshadowing of it on his spirit. On the contrary, Arthur Bohun and Richard both thought that it was nothing more than one of his scraps19 of poetry: and this last idea was at length adopted. Arthur Bohun had related the circumstance to Mrs. Cumberland, and it was this she meant to speak of to Mrs. Gass. Mrs. Gass, who knew nothing about it, thought, quite naturally, that she spoke of the paper found on her carpet.
"Of course it might have been nothing more than some ideas he had dotted down, poor fellow, connected with his nonsensical poetry," slightingly observed Mrs. Cumberland, who was the first to continue speaking: "Richard North and Captain Bohun both hold to that opinion. I don't. It may be that I am inclined to look always on the gloomy side of life; but I can only think he was alluding to his own death."
"'Twas odd sort of poetry," cried Mrs. Gass, after a pause and a stare.
"The only curious part about it to my mind is, that it should have been found in Arthur Bohun's desk," pursued Mrs. Cumberland, the two being still delightfully21 unconscious that they were at the cross-purposes. "He says he has not left his desk unlocked at all, that he is aware of--but of course he might have done so. Why Edmund North should have chosen to put it there, is a mystery."
"What has Captain Bohun's desk to do with it?" inquired Mrs. Gass, beginning to feel a little at sea.
"The paper was found in Captain Bohun's desk. Though why Edmund North should have placed it there, remains22 a mystery."
"Ma'am, whoever told you that, must have been just trying to deceive you. It was found on this carpet."
"Found on this carpet!"
"On this very blessed carpet, ma'am. Right back under the claw of that centre dining-table."
Again they gazed at each other. Mrs. Cumberland thought her friend must be dreaming.
"But you are quite mistaken, Mrs. Gass. The paper--note, or whatever it was--could not have been on this carpet at all: nor in your house, in fact. Captain Bohun discovered it in his desk three days ago, and he has not the slightest idea as to how it came there. Mr. North took possession of it, and it has never since been out of his hands."
"My dear lady, they have been mystifying of you," cried Mrs. Gass. "Seeing's believing. The paper was first found by me. By me, ma'am, on this carpet, and it was the same night that Edmund North was first took; not an hour after the fit."
Mrs. Cumberland made no reply. She was drifting into the conclusion that all the circumstances had not been related to her.
"I picked the paper up myself," continued Mrs. Gass, straightforwardly23 anxious for the truth. "I kept it safe here for a day and a night, ma'am, waiting to give it back to your son: what I thought was that he had dropped it out of his pocketbook. I never spoke of it to a single soul, and as soon as I had the opportunity I gave it up to him. If it was found in Captain Bohun's desk afterwards--why, Dr. Rane, or somebody else must have put it there. Ma'am, if, as I conclude, you've heard about the paper from your son, I wonder he did not tell you this."
"What paper was this?" inquired Mrs. Cumberland, a dim idea arising in her mind that they could not be talking of the same thing.
"It was the copy of that anonymous24 letter."
"The copy of the anonymous letter!"
"Leastways, its skeleton."
Rapidly enough came elucidation25 now. Without in the least intending to break faith with Dr. Rane, or with her own resolution to keep the matter secret, Mrs. Gass told all she knew, with one exception. Led on by the miserable26, but very natural misapprehension that Mrs. Cumberland was a depositary of the secret as well as herself, she spoke, and had not the least idea that she was betraying trust. That exception was the hinted suspicion that madam might have been the writer. Mrs. Cumberland sat listening, still as a statue.
"And you thought that--this rough copy of the letter--was dropped by Oliver?" she exclaimed at length, moved out of her usual calmness.
"What else could I think?" debated Mrs. Gass. "Dr. Rane had let fall some papers from his pocketbook five minutes before, and I picked this up as soon as he had gone. I'm sure I never so much as gave a thought to Molly Green--though she had come straight from the Hall. Dr. Rane said it might have dropped from her petticoats: but it was a puzzle to me how; and it's a puzzle still."
A keen, inquiring glance shot from the speaker's eyes with the last words. It was momentary27 and not intentional28; nevertheless, something in it caused Mrs. Cumberland's heart to quail29. A greyer hue30 spread over her grey face; a cold shade of recollection deadened her heart. Captain Bohun had told her of Mr. Alexander's theory: that the letter was written to damage himself.
"I am sorry I spoke of this, ma'am," struck in Mrs. Gass. "More particular that it should have been you: you'll naturally tell Dr. Rane, and he will say I know how to keep secrets--just about as the jackdaws keep theirs. It was your telling of the other paper that misled me."
"I am quite safe," answered Mrs. Cumberland, with a sickly smile. "The matter's nothing to me, that I should speak of it again."
"Of course not, ma'am. After all Halloa! here it comes!"
This sudden break was caused by the roll of a muffled31 drum, first advent32 of the advancing funeral procession. Edmund North had belonged to a local military corps33, and was to be attended to the grave with honours. Mrs. Gass drew up the white blind an inch above the Venetian, which enabled them to look out unseen. The road suddenly became lined with spectators; men, women and children collecting one hardly knew from whence.
The band came first--their instruments in rest; then the muffled drum, on which its bearer struck a note now and again. The hearse and three mourning coaches followed, some private carriages, and the soldiers on foot. And that was all: except some straggling spectators in the rear, with Hepburn the undertaker and his men on either side the black coaches. The hearse was exactly opposite Mrs. Cumberland when the band struck up the Dead March in Saul. Suddenly there flashed across her a recollection of the morning, only a very few days ago, when Ellen Adair had been playing that same dirge34, and it had grated on Oliver's ear. Her eyes fixed35 themselves on the hearse as it passed, and she saw in mental vision the corpse36 lying within. In another moment, the music, her son, the dead, and the fatal letter, all seemed to blend confusedly in her brain: and Mrs. Cumberland sat, down white and faint, and almost insensible. The lady of the house, her eyes riveted37 on the window, made her comments and suspected nothing of the indisposition.
"Mr. North in the first coach with his white hankecher held to his nose. And well he may hold it, poor berefted gentleman! Mr. Richard is sitting by the side of him. Captain Bohun's on the opposite seat:--and--who's the other? Why! it's young Sidney North. Then they've sent for him from college, or wherever it is he stays at: madam's doings, I'll lay. What a little whipper-snapper of a fellow it is!--like nobody but himself. He'll never be half the man his stepbrothers are."
Mrs. Gass's remarks ceased with the passing of the coach. In her curiosity she did not observe that she received no response. The second coach came in sight, and she began again.
"An old gent, upright as a dart38, with snow-white hair and them features called aquiline39! A handsome face, if ever I saw one; his eyes as blue and as fine as Captain Bohun's. There's a likeness40 between 'em. It must be his uncle, Sir Nash. A young man sits next him with a white, unhealthy face; and the other two--why, if I don't believe it's the young Dallorys!"
There was no reply. Mrs. Gass turned to see the reason. Her visitor was sitting back in a chair, a frightfully grey shade upon her face and lips.
"My patience! Don't you feel well, ma'am?"
"I am a little tired," replied Mrs. Cumberland, smiling languidly as she roused herself. "Looking out at passing things always fatigues41 me."
"Now, don't you stir, ma'am; I'll tell it off to you," came the rejoinder, spoken with sympathy. "There's only one coach more. And that have but two inside it--the doctors from Whitborough," added Mrs. Gass. "I wonder they didn't invite Mr. Oliver--the first called in to the poor young man--and Alexander. Not thought good enough by madam, perhaps, to be mixed with all these dons."
She looked after the swiftly passing pageantry with lingering admiration42. Mrs. Cumberland sat still in the chair and closed her eyes, as if all interest in the funeral--and in life too, for that matter--had passed away.
The procession wound along: through the long straggling village street, past the Dallory Works, an immense group of buildings that lay on the left, and so to the church. It was the only church in the parish, inconveniently43 distant for some of the inhabitants. Dallory Ham spoke about building one for itself; but that honour had not yet been attained44 to. In a corner of the large churchyard lay Mrs. North, Mr. North's first wife and Edmund's mother. The new grave was dug by her side.
Amidst the spectators, numbers of whom had collected in the burial ground, stood Jelly. Very much no doubt to the astonishment45 of her mistress, had she seen her. To peep surreptitiously from behind blinds, was one thing; but to stand openly staring in the churchyard, was another; and Mrs. Cumberland would assuredly have ordered her away. Jelly had come to it with a cousin of hers, Susan Ketler, the wife of the sick man who was being attended by Dr. Rane. Jelly had curiosity enough for ten ordinary women--which is saying a great deal--and would not have missed the sight for the world.
It was soon over: our burial service is not a long one: and the coaches and mourners moved away again, leaving the field in possession of the mob. A rush ensued to obtain a view of the coffin46, as yet scarcely sprinkled with earth. Jelly and her friend approached, and the former read the inscription47.
"Edmund, son of John North and of Mary, his first wife. Died May 3rd, 18--, aged48 33."
"I should not have put 'died,' but 'murdered,' if it was me had the writing of it," spoke Mrs. Ketler.
"And so should I, Susan," significantly replied Jelly. "Here! let's get out of this throng49."
Jelly, in her loftiness of stature50 and opinion, was above the throng literally51 and figuratively; but it was dense52 and troublesome. Neither death nor funeral had been of an ordinary description; and others besides the great unwashed were crowding there. The two women elbowed their way out, and passed back down the broad highway to Ketler's house in Dallory. He was one of the best of the North workmen, earning good wages; and the family lived in comfort.
Ketler was in the parlour, sitting up for the first time. Under Dr. Rane's skilful53 treatment he was getting rapidly better. A child sat on his knee, held by his able arm; the rest were around. The children had wanted, as a matter of course, to go out and see the funeral. "No," said their father; "they might get playing, and that would be unseemly." He was a short, dark, honest-looking man; a good husband and father. Jelly sat talking for a short time, and then rose to leave.
But she was not allowed to do so. To let her depart at that hour without first partaking of tea, would have been a breach54 of hospitality that the well-to-do workpeople of Dallory would never hear of. Jelly, too easily persuaded where gossip was concerned, took off her bonnet55, and the tray was brought in.
Cups of beer induce men to a long sitting; cups of tea women. Jelly sat on, oblivious56 of the lapse57 of time. The chief topic of conversation was the anonymous letter. Jelly found to her surprise and anger, that here, the prevailing58 belief was that it had been written by a clerk named Wilks, who was in the office of Dale the lawyer, and might have, become cognizant of the transaction between his master, Mr. Alexander, and Edmund North.
"Who told you that, Ketler?" sharply demanded Jelly, fixing her indignant eyes on the man.
"I can't rightly say who told me," replied Ketler; "it's the talk of the place. Wilks denies it out and out; but when he's in his evening cups--and that's not seldom--he does things that next morning he has no recollection of. Doctor Rane laughed at me, though, for saying so: a lawyer knows better than to let private matters get out to his clerks, says the doctor. But he don't know that Tim Wilks as some of us do."
"Well, I would not say too much about it's being Tim Wilks, if I were you, Ketler," cried Jelly, in suppressed wrath59, brushing the crumbs60 from her black gown. "You might find yourself in hot water."
And then Ketler suddenly remembered that Wilks was her particular friend, so he turned the subject.
Jelly tore herself away at last, very unwillingly61: gossip and tea-drinking formed her idea of an earthly paradise. Night was setting in; a light, beautiful night, the moon sailing majestically62 in the sky.
Just past the gates of Dallory Hall, in a bend of the road where the overhanging trees on either side gave it a lonely appearance at night: and by day too, for that matter: no dwelling63 of any sort being within view, stood a bench at the side of the path. It was a welcome resting-place to tired wayfarers64; it was no less welcome to wandering lovers in their evening rambles65. As Jelly went hastening on, a faint sound of voices broke upon her ear from this spot, and she arrested her steps instinctively66. The chance of pouncing67 unexpectedly upon a pair exchanging soft vows68, was perfectly69 delightful20 to Jelly; especially if it should happen to be a pair who had no business to exchange them.
Stealing softly along, went she, until she came to the turning, and then she looked cautiously round. The projecting bushes favoured her. To do Jelly justice, it must be affirmed that she had neither malice70 nor ill-will in her nature; rather the contrary; but a little innocent prying71 into her neighbours' affairs presented an irresistible72 temptation. What, then, was her astonishment to see--not a dying swain and his mistress, side by side: but her own mistress, Mrs. Cumberland, seated on the bench in an agony of grief, and Dr. Rane standing73 with folded arms before her.
Jelly, great at divining probabilities, easily comprehended the situation. Her mistress must have stayed to take tea with Mrs. Gass, and encountered her son in walking home.
To come down upon lovers with a startling reprimand was one thing; to intrude74 upon her mistress and Dr. Rane would be quite another. Jelly wished she had not gone stealing up like a mouse, and felt inclined to steal back again.
But the attitude and appearance of Mrs. Cumberland riveted her to the spot. Her face, never so grey as now, as seen in the moonlight, was raised to her son's, its expression one of yearning75 agony; her hands were lifted as if imploring76 some boon77, or warding78 off some fear. Jelly's eyes opened to their utmost width, and in her astonishment she failed to catch the purport79 of the first low-breathed words.
"I tell you, you are mistaken, mother," said Dr. Rane in answer, his own voice ringing out clearly enough in the still night; though it nevertheless bore a hushed tone. "Is it probable? Is it likely? I drop the copy of the letter out of my pocketbook! What next will you suppose me capable of?"
"But--Oliver,"--and the voice was raised a little--"how else could it have been found upon her carpet?"
"I have my theory about that," he rejoined with decision. "Mother, come home: I will tell you more then. Is this a fitting time or place to have thus attacked me?"
Air, voice, action, were sharp, with authority, as he bent80 and took her hand. Mrs. Cumberland, saying something about "having been surprised into speaking," rose from the bench. Jelly watched them along the road; and then sat down on the bench herself to recover her amazement81.
"What on earth docs it mean?"
Ah! what did it mean? Jelly was pretty sharp, but she was afraid to give full range to her thoughts. Other steps fell on her ear. They proved to be those of Mr. Alexander.
"Is it you, Jelly! Waiting for your sweetheart?"
Jelly rose. "Standing about to look at funerals, and such things, tires one worse than a ten-mile run."
"Then why do you do it?"
"One fool makes many," returned Jelly with composure. "Sir, I'd like to know who wrote that letter."
"It strikes me the letter was written by a woman."
"A woman!" echoed Jelly, in genuine surprise. "Good gracious, Mr. Alexander!"
"They are go sharp upon us at times, are women," he continued, smiling. "Men don't attack one another."
"And what woman do you suspect, sir?" cried Jelly, in her insatiable curiosity.
"Ah! there's the rub. I have been speaking of women in general, you see. Perhaps it was you?"
"Me!" exclaimed Jelly.
Mr. Alexander laughed. "I was only joking, Jelly. Goodnight."
But Jelly, sharp Jelly, rather thought he had not been joking, and that the suspicion had slipped out inadvertently.
She went straight home. And when she arrived there, Mrs. Cumberland was seated by the drawing-room fire, her face calm and still as usual, listening to the low sweet singing of Ellen Adair.
And Oliver Rane had passed in to his own house with his weight of care. Half wishing that he could exchange places with Edmund North in Dallory churchyard.
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1
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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4
condescended
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| 屈尊，俯就( condescend的过去式和过去分词 )； 故意表示和蔼可亲 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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elevation
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| n.高度；海拔；高地；上升；提高 | |
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7
exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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8
alluded
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| 提及，暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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allude
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| v.提及，暗指 | |
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shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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12
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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16
alluding
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| 提及，暗指( allude的现在分词 ) | |
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straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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19
scraps
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| 油渣 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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delightfully
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| 大喜，欣然 | |
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remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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straightforwardly
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| adv.正直地 | |
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anonymous
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| adj.无名的；匿名的；无特色的 | |
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elucidation
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| n.说明，阐明 | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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intentional
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| adj.故意的，有意（识）的 | |
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quail
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| n.鹌鹑；vi.畏惧，颤抖 | |
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hue
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| n.色度；色调；样子 | |
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31
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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advent
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| n.(重要事件等的)到来，来临 | |
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corps
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| n.(通信等兵种的)部队；(同类作的)一组 | |
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dirge
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| n.哀乐，挽歌，庄重悲哀的乐曲 | |
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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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corpse
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| n.尸体，死尸 | |
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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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dart
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| v.猛冲，投掷；n.飞镖，猛冲 | |
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aquiline
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| adj.钩状的，鹰的 | |
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likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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fatigues
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| n.疲劳( fatigue的名词复数 )；杂役；厌倦；（士兵穿的）工作服 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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inconveniently
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| ad.不方便地 | |
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attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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astonishment
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| n.惊奇，惊异 | |
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coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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inscription
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| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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aged
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| adj.年老的，陈年的 | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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stature
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| n.（高度）水平，（高度）境界，身高，身材 | |
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literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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dense
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| a.密集的，稠密的，浓密的；密度大的 | |
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skilful
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| (=skillful)adj.灵巧的，熟练的 | |
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breach
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| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
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bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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lapse
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| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
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prevailing
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| adj.盛行的；占优势的；主要的 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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crumbs
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| int. (表示惊讶)哎呀 n. 碎屑 名词crumb的复数形式 | |
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unwillingly
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| adv.不情愿地 | |
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majestically
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| 雄伟地； 庄重地； 威严地； 崇高地 | |
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dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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wayfarers
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| n.旅人，（尤指）徒步旅行者( wayfarer的名词复数 ) | |
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rambles
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| （无目的地）漫游( ramble的第三人称单数 )； （喻）漫谈； 扯淡； 长篇大论 | |
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instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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pouncing
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的现在分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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vows
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| 誓言( vow的名词复数 )； 郑重宣布，许愿 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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prying
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| adj.爱打听的v.打听，刺探（他人的私事）( pry的现在分词 )；撬开 | |
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irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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intrude
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| vi.闯入；侵入；打扰，侵扰 | |
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yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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imploring
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| 恳求的，哀求的 | |
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boon
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| n.恩赐，恩物，恩惠 | |
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warding
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| 监护，守护（ward的现在分词形式） | |
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purport
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| n.意义，要旨，大要；v.意味著，做为...要旨，要领是... | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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amazement
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| n.惊奇，惊讶 | |
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