"You know Mrs. Bush?" he asked, still holding Gertrude's hand in one of his, still leaning with the other on Mrs. Bush's arm.
"Mrs. Bush and I have met before," Gertrude answered calmly; "but she does not know my stage name. I am a singer, Mrs. Bush," she added; "and my stage name is Lambert."
"O, indeed, ma'am!" said Mrs. Bush, in a singularly unsympathetic voice, and with an expression which said pretty plainly that she did not think it signified much what the speaker called herself.--"Shall I put your lordship in the chair near the window?"
"Yes, yes," said Lord Sandilands testily3; and then he added, with the perversity4 of age and illness, "and where did you know Miss Keith, Mrs. Bush?" He seated himself as he spoke5, drew the skirts of his gray dressing-gown over his knees, and again looked from one to the other. Mrs. Bloxam, to whom the scene had absolutely no meaning, stood by in silence. Gertrude was very calm, very pale, and her eyes shone with a disdainful, defiant6 light, as they had shone on the fatal day of which this meeting so vividly7 reminded her. Mrs. Bush smiled, a dubious8 kind of smile, and rubbed her hands together very slowly and deliberately9, as she answered:
"If you please, my lord, I didn't never know a Miss Keith. It were when the young lady was Mrs. Lloyd as she come to my house at Brighton."
"When the young lady was Mrs. Lloyd!" repeated Lord Sandilands in astonishment10, and now including Mrs. Bloxam, who looked extremely embarrassed and uncomfortable in the searching gaze he directed towards the housekeeper and Gertrude. "What does this mean?"
"I will explain it to you," said Gertrude firmly but very gently, and bending over him as she spoke; "but there is no occasion to detain Mrs. Bush." The tone and manner of her words were tantamount to a dismissal, and so Mrs. Bush received them. She immediately retreated to the door, with an assumption of not feeling the smallest curiosity concerning the lady with whom she was thus unexpectedly brought into contact, and left the room, murmuring an assurance that she should be within call when his lordship might want her. A few moments' pause followed her departure. The astonishment and vague uneasiness with which Lord Sandilands had heard what Mrs. Bush had said kept him silent, while Gertrude was agitated13 and puzzled--the first by the imminent14 danger of discovery of her carefully-kept secret, and the second by hearing Lord Sandilands allude16 to her as "Miss Keith." When she thought over this strange and critical incident in her life afterwards, it seemed to her that something like a perception of the truth about to be imparted to her came into her mind as Lord Sandilands spoke. Mrs. Bloxam experienced a sensation unpleasantly akin17 to threatened fainting. What was coming? Must all indeed be told? Must her conduct be put in its true light before both Gertrude and Lord Sandilands? Could she not escape either of the extremes which, in her mental map of the straits in which she found herself, she had laid down? But she was a strong woman by nature, and a quiet, self-repressed woman by habit, and in the few moments' interval18 of silence she did not faint, but sat down a little behind Lord Sandilands, and with her face turned away from the light. As for the old nobleman himself, the mere19 shock of the dim suspicion, the vague possibility which suggested itself, shook his composure severely20, through all the restraint which his natural manliness21 and the acquired impassiveness of good breeding imposed. Gertrude was the first to speak. She stood in her former attitude, slightly leaning over him, and he sat, his head back against the chair, and his keen, gray, anxious eyes raised to her handsome, haughty22 face.
"You sent for me, my dear lord, my good friend," she said,--and there was a tone in the rich, sweet voice which the old man had never heard in it before, and in which his ear caught and carried to his heart the echo of one long silent and almost forgotten,--"and I have come; in the first place to see you, to know how you are, and to satisfy myself that this illness has had nothing alarming in it. In the second place, that I may hear all you mean to say to me; I know about what,"--her eyes drooped23 and her colour rose--"Mrs. Bloxam has told me; she has fully15 explained all your kindness, all your goodness and generosity24 to me. Will you tell me all you intended to say to me, and let me say what I meant to say to you, just as if Mrs. Bush had never called me by that strange name in your hearing, and then I will explain all." The lustrous25 earnestness of her face rendered it far more beautiful than Lord Sandilands had ever before seen it. Her mother had never looked at him with that purposeful expression, with that look which told of sorrow and knowledge, and the will and resolution to live them down.
"I will do anything you wish, my dear," said the old nobleman; and it was remarkable26 that he discarded in that moment all the measured courtesy a manner which he had hitherto sedulously27 preserved, and adopted in its stead the deep and warm interest, the partial judgment28, the protecting tone of his true relationship to her. "Sit here beside me, and listen. I have some painful things to say, but they will soon be said; and I hope--I hope happy days are in store for you;" but his face was clouded, and doubt, even dread29, expressed itself in his voice. Gertrude did not exactly obey him. Instead of taking a seat, she placed herself on her knees beside his chair; and in this attitude she listened to his words.
"I know how it is with you and Miles Challoner, my dear, and Miles is dearer to me than any person in the world except one,--and that one is you."
"I!" said Gertrude, amazed. "I dearer to you than Miles Challoner, your old friend's child!"
"Yes," he said, with a faint smile, "for you are my own child, Gertrude; that is what I sent for you to tell you, and I want to make you happy if I can." So saying, the old man took her bent30 head between his hands, and kissed her. Gertrude did not evince any violent emotion--she turned extremely pale, and her eyes filled with tears; but she did not say anything for a little while, and she afterwards wondered at the quietness with which the revelation was made and received. She was not even certain that she had been very much surprised. Mrs. Bloxam rose, opened the window, stepped out upon the balcony, and carefully closed the window behind her. During a considerable time she might have been observed by the numerous promenaders on the Esplanade, leaning over the railing, which was more ornamental31 than solid, in an attitude of profound abstraction. By those within the room her very existence was forgotten until, in the course of their mutual32 interrogation, her name came to be mentioned. Still kneeling beside him, but now with her head resting against his breast, and one long thin white hand laid tenderly upon the bright masses of her chestnut33 hair, Gertrude heard from her father the story of her mother's brief happy life and early death;--and the sternest might have forgiven the old man the unintentional, deception34 which was self-delusion, which made him tell his daughter how only that early death had prevented his making Gertrude Gautier his wife. For the first time he realised now in the keenness of his longing35, in the misery36 of his dreaded37 powerlessness to secure the happiness of his child, the full extent of the injury inflicted38 upon her by her illegitimate birth.
"I know," he said, "that Miles loves you, and I think you love him, and I know you would be happy. I have lived long enough in the world, and seen enough of it, to know how rarely one can say that with common sense and justice of any two human beings. Tell me, Gertrude, why it is that you have refused Miles,--why it is that you seem determined39 not to let me smooth away all obstacles to your marrying him?"
The conversation had lasted long, and had embraced many subjects, before it reached this point. Gertrude had undergone much and varying emotion, but she had not lost her calmness, partly because of her exceptional strength of mind and body, and partly because she never suffered herself to forget the danger of over-excitement to Lord Sandilands. She had listened quietly to the story of her mother (the idea of actually learning about her own parentage, and being able to realise it, was quite new to her--and abstract sentiment was not in Gertrude's way), and had rendered to it the tribute of silent tears. She had heard her father tell how he had first recognised her at Lady Carabas' concert, and how he had felt the strong instinctive40 interest in which he had never believed, and which he had never practically experimented in, arise at the sight of her; how he had found, first with misgiving41, and afterwards with increasing pleasure, ratified42 and approved by his conscience because of his knowledge of Miles Challoner's tastes and character, that his young friend and companion was attached to her. She had heard him tell how he had watched the ill-success of Lord Ticehurst's suit with pleasure, and how he had won Miles to confide43 to him his hopes and plans, and encouraged him to hope for success, and then had been induced by her refusal of Miles and his belief that that refusal was dictated44 by disinterested45 regard for Challoner's worldly interests, and in no degree by her own feelings, to take the resolution of telling her all the truth--upon which resolution he was now acting46.
So far Gertrude had been wonderfully composed. Her father had said to her all he had urged with himself, when he had been first assailed47 by misgivings48 that his old friend would have resented his endeavouring to bring about a marriage between Miles and a woman to whom the disadvantage of illegitimate birth attached; and she had assented49, adding that while she only knew herself utterly50 obscure, she had felt and acted upon the sense of her own inferiority. The conversation had strayed away from Gertrude's early life--the father met his acknowledged daughter for the first time as a woman, and they made haste to speak of present great interests. Mrs. Bloxam might have been quite easy in her mind about the amount of notice her share in any of the transactions of the past would be likely to excite. But now, when Lord Sandilands pleaded earnestly the cause of Miles Challoner, and in arguing it argued in favour of the weakness of Gertrude's own heart, her fortitude51 gave way, and a full and overwhelming knowledge of the bitterness of her fate rushed in upon her soul. The veil fell from her eyes; she knew herself for the living lie she was; she realised that the unjustifiable compact she had made with her husband was a criminal, an accursed convention, bearing more and more fruit of bitterness and shame and punishment, as her father unfolded the scheme of a bright and happy future which he had formed for her.
"If he had been any other than Miles Challoner," she had said to Mrs. Bloxam, she would have married him, would have incurred52 the risk for rank and money--or she had thought so, had really believed it of herself. What had possessed53 her with such an idea? What had made her contemplate54 in herself a creature so lost, so utterly, coldly wicked? It was so long since she had permitted herself to think of her real position; she had deliberately blinded, voluntarily stultified55 her mind for so long, that she had ceased to feel that she was playing a part as fictitious56 off, as any she performed on the stage. But now, as her father's voice went on, speaking lovingly, hopefully, telling her how conventionalities should be disregarded and wealth supplied in her interests; telling her she need have no fear in the case of such a man as Miles--had he not known him all his life?--of any late regret or after reproach; now the tide of anguish57 rushed over her, and with choking sobs58 she implored59 him to desist.
"Don't, don't!" she said. "You don't know--O my God!--you don't know--and how shall I ever tell you? There is another reason, ten thousand times stronger; all the others I gave were only pretences61, anything to keep him from suspecting, from finding out the truth; there is a reason which makes it altogether impossible."
"Another reason! What is it? Tell me at once--tell me," said Lord Sandilands; and he raised himself in his chair, and held her by the shoulders at arms' length from him. Dread, suspicion, pain were in his face; and under the influence of strong emotion, which reflected itself in her features, the father and daughter, with all the difference of colouring and of form, were wonderfully like each other.
"I will tell you," she said; but she shut her eyes, and then hid them with her hand while she spoke, shrinking from his gaze. "I will tell you. I am not free to be Miles Challoner's wife. I am married to another man."
"Married! You married?"
"Yes," she said, "I am married. Your housekeeper knows me as a married woman. The name she called me by is my real name. You know the man who is my husband, unhappy wretch62 that I am!"
"Who is he?" said Lord Sandilands hoarsely63, his nerveless hands falling from her shoulders as he spoke. She looked at him, was alarmed at the paleness of his face, and rose hurriedly from her knees.
"You are ill," she said. "I will go--" But he caught her dress, and held it.
"Tell me who he is."
"Gilbert Lloyd!"
Gertrude was horrified64 at the effect which the communication she had made to her father had upon him. He had set his heart strongly indeed upon her marriage with Miles Challoner, she thought, when the frustration65 of the project had the power to plunge66 him into a state of prostration67 and misery. As for herself, the alarm she experienced, and the great excitement she had undergone in the revelation made to her by her father, the agony of mind she had suffered in the desperate necessity for avowing68 the truth, were quickly succeeded by such physical exhaustion69 as she had never before felt. This effect of mental excitement was largely assisted by the weakness still remaining after her illness, and was so complete and irresistible70, that when she had seen the doctor hurriedly summoned to Lord Sandilands by Mrs. Bloxam's orders--that lady's meditations71 on the balcony had been terminated by Gertrude's cry for help--and learned that the patient was not in danger, but must be kept absolutely quiet, she yielded to it at once.
Not a word was said by Mrs. Bloxam to Gertrude concerning the disclosure made by Lord Sandilands. In the confusion and distress72 which ensued on the sudden attack of violent pain with which her father was seized, Gertrude lost sight of time and place, and thought of nothing but him so long as she was able to think of anything. Little more than an hour had elapsed since Lord Sandilands had told her the secret of his life, and she was speaking of him freely to Mrs. Bloxam as her father, and the word hardly sounded strange. She could not return to Hardriggs; she was not able, even if she would have left Lord Sandilands. There was no danger of her seeing Miles if she remained at St. Leonards. Lord Sandilands had told her early in their interview that he had sent Miles up to town, and procured74 his absence until he should summon him back by promising75 to plead his cause in his absence. She and Mrs. Bloxam must remain--not in the house, indeed, but at the nearest hotel. She would send a message to that effect to Lady Belwether, and inform Mrs. Bush of her intention.
Mrs. Bush had not relaxed her suspicious reserve during all the bustle76 and confusion which had ensued on the sudden illness of Lord Sandilands. She had been brought into contact with Gertrude frequently as they went from room to room in search of remedies, and ultimately met by the old nobleman's bedside after the doctor's visit. Mrs. Bush did not indeed call Gertrude "Mrs. Lloyd" again, but she scrupulously77 addressed her as "Madam;" and there was an unpleasant, though not distinctly offensive, significance about her manner which convinced Gertrude that not an incident of the terrible time at Brighton had been forgotten by the ci-devantlodging-house keeper, whose changed position had set her free from the necessity of obsequiousness78.
Gertrude had taken a resolution on the subject of Mrs. Bush, on which she acted with characteristic decision, when at length her father was sleeping under the influence of opiates, and she and Mrs. Bloxam had agreed that their remaining at St. Leonards was inevitable79. She asked Mrs. Bush to accompany her to the drawing-room, and then said to her at once:
"You are surprised to see me here, Mrs. Bush, no doubt; and as I understand from Lord Sandilands that he has great confidence in you, and values your services highly, I think it right to explain to you what may seem strange in the matter."
Mrs. Bush looked at the young lady a little more kindly80 than before, and muttered something about being much obliged, and hoping she should merit his lordship's good opinion. Gertrude continued:
"It will displease81 Lord Sandilands, to whom I am closely related, if the fact of my being married is talked about. I am separated from Mr. Lloyd, and it is customary for singers to retain their own names. Mine is Grace Lambert. If you desire to please his lordship, you may do so by keeping silence on this subject, by not telling anyone that you ever saw me at Brighton under another name."
With the shrewdness which most women of her class and calling possess by nature, and which the necessities of her struggling career as a lodging-housekeeper had developed, Mrs. Bush instantly perceived her own interest in this affair, and replied very civilly that she was sure she should never mention anything his lordship would wish concealed82; and that she was not given to gossip, thank goodness! never had been when she had a house herself, and which her opinion had always been as lodgers85' business was their own and not hers. Consequent, she had never said a word about the poor dear gentleman what had died so sudden,--at this point of her discourse86 Gertrude's jaded87 nerves thrilled again with pain,--although it had injured her house serious. With a last effort of self-command, Gertrude listened to her apparently88 unmoved, and dismissed her, with an intimation that she should return in the morning to take her place by Lord Sandilands. Mrs. Bush had both a talent and a taste for nursing invalids89, and she established herself in the darkened room, there to watch the troubled sleeper90, with cheerful alacrity91. Her thoughts were busy with Gertrude, however, and with what she had said to her. "So she's his near relation, is she?" thus ran Mrs. Bush's cogitations. "Whatrelation now, I wonder? Lambert is not a family name on any side, and he called her Miss Keith too--and I'll be hanged if he knew she was married! I'm sure he didn't. There's something queer in all this; but it's not my affair. However, if his lordship asks me any questions, I'm not going to hold my tongue to him. Separated from Mr. Lloyd! I wonder was she ever really married to him? She looked like it, and spoke like it, though; a more respectable young woman in her ways never came to my place, for the little time she was in it. I wonder what she has left him for?--though in my belief it's a good job for her, and he's a bad lot."
The hours of the night passed over the heads of the father and the daughter unconsciously. With the morning came the renewed sense of something important and painful having taken place. On the preceding evening, Gertrude had entreated92 Mrs. Bloxam to refrain from questioning her. "I am too tired," she had said. "I cannot talk about it; let me rest now, and I will tell you everything in the morning." To this Mrs. Bloxam had gladly assented; she was naturally very anxious, and not a little curious; but anxiety and curiosity were both held in abeyance93 by the satisfaction she experienced in perceiving that the revelations which had been made had not seriously injured her position with Lord Sandilands or with Gertrude. The mutual recognition between Gertrude and Mrs. Bush had been unintelligible94 to her. That it had produced important results she could not doubt; but on the whole, she did not regret them. The acknowledgment of Gertrude's marriage might prevent future mischief95, in which she (Mrs. Bloxam) might possibly be unpleasantly involved, and at present it was evident that, in the overwhelming agitation96 and surprise of the discovery, her conduct had been entirely97 forgotten or overlooked. That she might continue to occupy a position of such safe obscurity was, for herself, Mrs. Bloxam's dearest wish; and Mrs. Bloxam's wishes seldom extended, at all events with any animation98, beyond herself.
Lord Sandilands awoke free from pain, but so weak and confused that it was some time before he could bring up the occurrences of yesterday, in their due order and weight of import, before his mind. He had received a shock from which his physical system could hardly be expected to recover; but the extent of the mental effect--the fear, the horror, the awakening99 of remorse100, not yet to be softened101 into abiding102 and availing repentance--none but he could ever estimate. The past, the present, and the future alike menaced, alike tortured him: the dead friend, the sole sharer of whose confidence he was; the dead man's son, whom he loved almost as well as if he were of his own flesh and blood; the dead woman, whom he had deceived and betrayed (in the wholesome103 bitterness of his awakened104 feelings Lord Sandilands was hard upon himself, and ready to ignore the ignorance which had made her a facile victim); the dreadful combination of fate which had made the daughter whom he had neglected and disowned the wife of a man whose tremendous guilt105 her father alone of living creatures knew, and had thrown her in the path of that same guilty man's brother, to love him and be beloved by him. In so dire11 a distress was he; and this girl whom he loved with an anxious intensity106 which surprised himself, imprisoned107 in the hopeless meshes108 of the net in which his feet were involved. No wonder he found it hard, with all his natural courage, and all the acquired calmness of his caste, to marshal these facts in their proper order, and make head against the dismay they caused him. But this was no time for dismay. He had to act in a terrible emergency of his daughter's life, and to act, if indeed it were possible for any ingenuity109 or prudence110 to enable him to do so, so that the real truth of the emergency, the full extent of its terrible nature, should be known to himself alone, never suspected by her. The housekeeper came softly to the old nobleman's bedside while his mind was working busily at this problem, the most difficult which life had ever set him for solution; and seeing his eyes closed and his face quiet, believed him to be still sleeping, and withdrew gently.
By degrees, the facts and the necessities of the case arranged themselves somewhat in this order. Gertrude had told her father of her marriage, of the misery which had speedily resulted from it, and of the strange bargain made between her husband and herself. She knew Lloyd's worthlessness then, though she had spoken but vaguely111 of him as a gambler and a reckless, unprincipled man, not giving Lord Sandilands any reason to think she could regard him as capable of actual crime. The shock of the disclosure Gertrude had imputed112 simply to his horror of the clandestine113 nature of her marriage, and the moral blindness and deadness which had made the bargain between her and Lloyd present itself as possible to their minds (the light of a true and pure love had shone on Gertrude now, and shown her the full turpitude114 of the transaction); his sudden seizure115 had prevented his hearing more than a brief, bare outline of the dreadful episode of his daughter's marriage. She knew nothing of the real, appalling116 truth; she was ignorant that the man she had married was a criminal of the deepest dye, the secret of his crime in her father's hands, his own brother the object of her affections, and the only possible issue out of all this complication and misery one involving utter and eternal separation between her and Miles Challoner. If he and Gertrude ever met again, she must learn the truth; she must learn that Gilbert Lloyd was Geoffrey Challoner, and an additional weight of horror and anguish be added to the load of sorrow her unfortunate marriage--in which Lord Sandilands humbly117 and remorsefully118 recognised the consequence, the direct result, of his own sin--had laid upon her. If she could be prevented from ever knowing the worst? If he, invested with the authority and with the affection of a parent, could induce her to consent to an immediate12 separation from Miles Challoner, to a prompt removal from the possibility of seeing him, by strengthening her own views of the insuperable nature of the barrier between them? She would not, however, yield to Miles's prayer for their marriage; but that would not be sufficient for her safety: she must never see him more; she must be kept from the misery of learning the truth. How was this to be done? For some time Lord Sandilands found no answer to that question; but at last it suggested itself. Miles--yes, he would make an appeal to him; he would tell him all the truth--to him who knew that Lord Sandilands also possessed that other secret, which, to judge by its consequences, must be indeed a terrible one; and Miles would be merciful to this woman, who, though she had sinned by the false pretence60 under which she lived, was so much more sinned against; and, appearing to accept her decision, Miles would not ask to see her again. Yes, that would do; he was sure that would succeed. And then he would acknowledge Gertrude as his daughter to all who had any claim to an explanation of any proceedings120 of his--the number was satisfactorily small--and he would leave England for ever, with Gertrude. It was wonderful with how strong and irresistible a voice Nature was now speaking to the old man's heart; how all the habits and conventionalities of his life seemed to be dropping suddenly away from him, and something new, but far more powerful, establishing itself in their stead as a law of his being. The tremendous truth and extent of his responsibility as regarded Gertrude presented themselves to him now in vivid reality, and the strongest desire of his heart was for strength, skill, and patience, to carry out the plan which presented itself for her benefit. He felt no anger towards her for what she had done. Poor motherless, fatherless, unprotected girl, how was she to understand the moral aspect of such a deed? He pitied the folly121, but he did not seriously regard the guilt, while he deplored122 the consequences. Gertrude's professional career, he saw at once, must come to an immediate and abrupt123 close. There was no safety for her in the terrible unexplained attitude of the brothers Challoner, and her total unconsciousness of it and its bearing upon her own fate, but absence from the scene of the secret drama. With the grief of her hopeless, impossible love at her heart, and with the help and safety of her new-discovered relationship to him, security for her future and escape from the present, Gertrude would not hesitate about abandoning her career as a singer. It had never had for her the intoxicating124 delight and excitement with which such a success is invested for the fortunate few who attain125 it; and as for the world, the lapse73 of the brilliant star from the operatic firmament126 would be a nine-days' wonder, and no more, like such other of the episodes of her story and his as the world might come to learn. That part of the business hardly deserved, and certainly did not receive, more than the most passing consideration from Lord Sandilands. It was all dreadfully painful, and full of complications which involved infinite distress; but Lord Sandilands began to see light in his difficult way. It was not until he had thought long and anxiously of Gertrude and of Miles that his mind turned in the direction of Gilbert Lloyd; and then it was with inexpressible pain that he contemplated127 the fact that this man, whom of all men he most abhorred128, was the husband of his daughter; had had the power to make her girlhood miserable129, to blight130 her life in its bloom, and to continue to blight it to the end. How great a villain132 Gilbert Lloyd was, he alone knew; but no doubt Gertrude had had considerable experience of his character. On this point he would find out all the truth by degrees. His thoughts glanced for a moment at the probable effect it would have on Lloyd when he should discover that the one man in the world in whose power he was, was the father of his wife, and had constituted himself her protector. At least there was one bright spot in all this mass of misery: knowing this, Lloyd would never dare to molest133 Gertrude, would never venture to seek her or trouble her, in any straits, however severe, to which his unprincipled life might drive him. In this perfectly134 reasonable calculation there was but one item astray: Lord Sandilands had no suspicion of the state of feeling in which Gilbert Lloyd now was with respect to his wife. If he had known the fierce revival135 of passion for her, and the rage which filled his baffled and desperate heart, Lord Sandilands would not have looked with so much confidence upon the prospect136 of suffering no molestation137 from Lloyd. Whether his tigerish nature could ever be wholly controlled by fear, was a question to which no answer could yet be given. But Lord Sandilands did not ask it, and his thoughts had again reverted138 to Miles, and were dwelling sadly on the caprice of fate which had brought his brother once more so fatally across his track, and had erected139 so strange a link between the calamity140 which had overshadowed his dead friend's life and that which must now be the abiding sorrow of his own, when the arrival of the doctor interrupted his musings, and obliged him to confess to being awake.
When the visit was concluded, with a favourable141 report but many cautions on the part of the medical attendant, Lord Sandilands inquired of Mrs. Bush when the arrival of the two ladies might be looked for. They had already sent to ask how his lordship was, and would be there at eleven. Lord Sandilands then bethought him that the recognition of the preceding day, which had no doubt led to his receiving his daughter's confidence, and being preserved from blindly pursuing a course of persuasion142 and advocacy of Miles Challoner's suit, which might have led to most disastrous143 consequences, could now be made still more useful, as affording him an opportunity of learning more about his daughter's married life than she had had time or probably inclination144 to tell him.
The old man looked very weak and curiously145 older all of a sudden, and Mrs. Bush, a kind-hearted woman in her narrow little way, was sorry to see the change. The sympathy in her manner and voice inspired Lord Sandilands with a resolution somewhat similar to that one which Gertrude had noted146 on the previous day. He asked Mrs. Bush to take a seat, requested her best attention to what he was going to say, and then told her without any circumlocution147 that the lady called Grace Lambert, whom she had known as Mrs. Lloyd, was his daughter, whom he intended to acknowledge and to take abroad with him. The housekeeper showed very plainly the astonishment which this communication occasioned her, and her embarrassment148 was extreme when Lord Sandilands continued: "And now, Mrs. Bush, I wish you to tell me all you know about my daughter, and all that occurred while Mr. Lloyd, from whom she separated immediately afterwards, lodged149 at your house at Brighton."
"Of course, my lord," replied Mrs. Bush, in a nervous and hesitating manner, "I cannot refuse to do as your lordship wishes, nor do I wish so to do; but Mrs. Lloyd did not lodge84 at my house at all in a manner; she only came there unexpected, and went away at night, after the poor gentleman died, as were took so sudden--dear, dear, how sudden he were took, to be sure!"
"What gentleman? I don't understand you. Pray tell me the whole story, Mrs. Bush; don't omit any particulars you can remember; it is of great importance to me."
Mrs. Bush possessed no ordinary share of that very common gift of persons of her class--circumlocution, and she told her story with a delightful150 sense of revelling151 in the fullest details. Her hearer, not under ordinary circumstances distinguished152 for patience, neither hurried nor interrupted her, but, on the contrary, when he asked her any questions at all, put to her such as induced her to lengthen153 and amplify154 the narrative155. When the housekeeper took her seat beside his bed, Lord Sandilands had been lying with his face towards her. As she progressed in her account of the sojourn156 of Gilbert Lloyd and Harvey Gore157 at her house, he turned away, and lay towards the wall against which his bed was placed, so that at the conclusion of the story she did not see his face. Ashy pale that face was, and it bore a fixed158 look of horror; for, bringing his own secret knowledge of Gilbert Lloyd to bear upon the story told by the housekeeper, Lord Sandilands readily divined what was that swift, unaccountable illness of which Lloyd's friend had died, what the irresistible power his wife had wielded159 in insisting upon the separation which had taken place. "The wretched girl! What must she not have suffered!" the father thought. "Alone, in the power of such a man, in possession of such a secret, whether by positive knowledge or only strong suspicion, no matter. Good God, what must she not have suffered! What has she not yet before her to suffer!"
Here, as he afterwards thought, in reflecting upon the unconscious disclosure which Mrs. Bush had made to him--here was another barrier against any possible molestation of Gertrude by her husband, a horrible truth to grasp at with something like ghastly satisfaction. But horrible truths were all around them in this miserable complication, on every side.
"Thank you," said Lord Sandilands, when Mrs. Bush had concluded her narrative. "I am much indebted to you for telling me all these particulars. You will oblige me very materially by not mentioning the subject in any way to anyone."
Mrs. Bush was aware that Lord Sandilands not only possessed the means but the inclination to make it very well worth anyone's while to oblige him, so she immediately resolved upon maintaining undeviating fidelity160 to the obligation he imposed upon her; and she afterwards kept her resolution, which she found profitable.
When Gertrude arrived, Mrs. Bush met her with a request that she would go to his lordship at once, which implied that Mrs. Bloxam was to remain in the drawing-room. This she did, composedly occupying herself with needlework, and feeling her hopes that she should be entirely overlooked in the crisis of affairs growing stronger and stronger. It may as well be said here, once for all, that these hopes were justified161. Mrs. Bloxam was never called to account by Lord Sandilands for his money, or her own conduct.
"I take it upon myself, my dear," said Lord Sandilands to his daughter, when many hours passed in close and mournful consultation162 between them had gone by; "as soon as I am able to move--and, you see, I am greatly better already--the arrangements shall all be made."
From the bed where he lay, the old man's eyes were turned anxiously, sadly, towards the figure of his daughter. Gertrude was seated in a deep chintz-covered chair, in the bay of the window, which overlooked a small garden of the sterile163 and sandy order, familiar to the memory of occasional dwellers164 in seaside lodging-houses. She was leaning forward, her head resting on her hands, her arms supported by a little three-legged table, her attitude full of grace and dejection. The afternoon sun tinged165 her pale cheek and her clustering hair, but for the moment the brilliance166 that was so characteristic of her appearance was gone. But she touched the old man's heart all the more keenly for the lack of brilliancy, for she was more like her mother without it,--the dead mother whom she had never seen, and whose name had as yet been barely mentioned between them.
"Yes," she said absently, drearily167, "I must leave it all to you. How strange it is to me to know that I have you to help me, to leave it all to!"
"You will not pine for the excitement and applause to which you are so accustomed, Gertrude?"
"No; they have been very wearisome to me of late, since I have known how much might have been mine that never can be now."
"No indeed, my dear," said her father earnestly, "it never, never can be now; and your true courage, your true good sense is in acknowledging this at once, and consenting to turn your back upon it all promptly168. You shall have none of the misery of severing169 these ties; I will write to Munns, and tell him I am ready to indemnify his real or imaginary losses."
"It will cost you a great deal of money," she said, still absently, still drearily.
"It is almost time that I began to spend it on you," said her father, with a very unsuccessful attempt at a smile.
The past, the present, and the future had been discussed during the hours they had passed together, and emotion had worn itself out. Steadily170 keeping in mind the concealment171 he desired to practise, and the effect he designed to produce, the old nobleman had received the confidences which his daughter--who more and more strongly felt the tie between them hour by hour, and softened under its influence--imparted to him with the utmost tenderness and indulgence, but with as little effusion as possible. He had induced her to tell him the whole truth concerning her separation from her husband; and had received the terrible revelation with calmness which would have perhaps shocked Gertrude had she not been too much absorbed in the newer, sacred sorrow of her hopeless love to perceive as keenly as was her wont172, had she not also been much exhausted173 physically174, and thus mercifully less sensible to impressions. She had also told him of Gilbert Lloyd's late pursuit of her; and at that portion of her narrative Lord Sandilands ground his still strong white teeth with furious anger, and a thrill of exultation175 mingled176 with the rage and misery of the circumstances, as he thought how utterly this villain was in his power, how soon he would set his foot upon his neck and see him writhe177 in impotent anguish and humiliation178. But this was one of the feelings which he had to conceal83 from Gertrude, and he did effectually conceal it.
The plan decided179 upon was that Gertrude and Mrs. Bloxam should return on that evening to Hardriggs, and terminate their stay there as soon as possible; and then go to London and occupy the interval which must elapse before Lord Sandilands could travel, in making preparations for departure. The pretty villa131 was to be given up; the household gods which Gertrude had gathered around her were to be dispersed180, and her life was "to begin over again." Is there any drearier181 phrase than that? can words represent any harder fact, any more painful idea? Then Lord Sandilands and his daughter would go abroad, and leave the English world behind them, to think and say just what it might please. The place of their abode182 was not even discussed. All foreign countries were alike new to Gertrude, and old to Lord Sandilands. One little point of detail had been mentioned between them. If Gertrude wished it, her father would take Mrs. Bloxam with them. He inclined to the belief that it would be butter not; better to be away from everyone connected with the past, from which it was their wish, their object to escape. And his daughter agreed with him, as did Mrs. Bloxam, when the matter was mentioned to her. She hated foreign countries--her trip to Italy was a standing183 grievance--and she was very glad to retire from her post of chaperone to Miss Lambert, with such a handsome present in money from Lord Sandilands--an ill-deserved acknowledgment of her services--as, added to the savings184 she had accumulated at the Vale House, rendered her free from the presence or the apprehension185 of poverty. When the time of parting came, this lady, on the whole a not unfortunate member of society as human affairs are constituted, took leave of Lord Sandilands and his daughter with the utmost propriety186; and it is more than probable that by this time she has ceased to remember their existence.
Gertrude took leave of her father, when the appointed time came for her return to Hardriggs, with little visible emotion. She was dazed and exhausted; and it was not until the events of the last few days were weeks old, and she passed them in review under a foreign sky, in a distant land, far away from the man she loved and the man she bated, that she began to realise them in detail, and to feel that she had, indeed, "begun life over again."
When Lord Sandilands contemplated the prospect of the interview he was about to have with Miles Challoner, he shrunk from it with dread. But he had to go through with it; and perhaps the most painful moment of the many painful hours he and his friend passed together was that in which the young man advanced to him with beaming looks, with outstretched hand, with agitated voice, and said, "You have sent for me? you have good news for me?"
The task was done the task in which the old man felt the hand of retribution striking him heavily through the suffering of those he loved--the pain was borne, and the day after that which witnessed the arrival of Gertrude and Mrs. Bloxam in London saw Miles Challoner leaving the great city for Rowley Court, where he shut himself up in such gloomy seclusion187 that the people about began to talk oddly of it. Somehow the Court seemed an unlucky place, they said. First, the mysterious disgrace and banishment188 of the younger son; then the lonely, moping, moody189 life of the Squire190; and now here was the young Squire going the same gait. There was surely something in it which was not lucky, that there was, and time would tell.
The world did talk, as they had anticipated, of the departure of Lord Sandilands and Miss Lambert for foreign parts; and as it was some little time before it got hold, of anything like a correct version of the story, it started some very pretty and ingenious theories to account for that "unaccountable" proceeding119. Managers were savage191, débutantesdelighted, and Lady Carabas, who knew nothing whatever of the matter, was charmingly mysterious, and assured everyone that her dear Grace had been guided in everything by her advice, and that that dear Lord Sandilands was the most perfect of creatures, and had behaved like an angel. And then, in even a shorter time than Lord Sandilands and Gertrude had calculated upon, the world, including Lady Carabas, forgot them.
点击收听单词发音
1 housekeeper | |
n.管理家务的主妇,女管家 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
2 dwelling | |
n.住宅,住所,寓所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
3 testily | |
adv. 易怒地, 暴躁地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
4 perversity | |
n.任性;刚愎自用 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
5 spoke | |
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 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
6 defiant | |
adj.无礼的,挑战的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
7 vividly | |
adv.清楚地,鲜明地,生动地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
8 dubious | |
adj.怀疑的,无把握的;有问题的,靠不住的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
9 deliberately | |
adv.审慎地;蓄意地;故意地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
10 astonishment | |
n.惊奇,惊异 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
11 dire | |
adj.可怕的,悲惨的,阴惨的,极端的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
12 immediate | |
adj.立即的;直接的,最接近的;紧靠的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
13 agitated | |
adj.被鼓动的,不安的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
14 imminent | |
adj.即将发生的,临近的,逼近的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
15 fully | |
adv.完全地,全部地,彻底地;充分地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
16 allude | |
v.提及,暗指 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
17 akin | |
adj.同族的,类似的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
18 interval | |
n.间隔,间距;幕间休息,中场休息 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
19 mere | |
adj.纯粹的;仅仅,只不过 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
20 severely | |
adv.严格地;严厉地;非常恶劣地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
21 manliness | |
刚毅 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
22 haughty | |
adj.傲慢的,高傲的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
23 drooped | |
弯曲或下垂,发蔫( droop的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
24 generosity | |
n.大度,慷慨,慷慨的行为 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
25 lustrous | |
adj.有光泽的;光辉的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
26 remarkable | |
adj.显著的,异常的,非凡的,值得注意的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
27 sedulously | |
ad.孜孜不倦地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
28 judgment | |
n.审判;判断力,识别力,看法,意见 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
29 dread | |
vt.担忧,忧虑;惧怕,不敢;n.担忧,畏惧 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
30 bent | |
n.爱好,癖好;adj.弯的;决心的,一心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
31 ornamental | |
adj.装饰的;作装饰用的;n.装饰品;观赏植物 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
32 mutual | |
adj.相互的,彼此的;共同的,共有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
33 chestnut | |
n.栗树,栗子 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
34 deception | |
n.欺骗,欺诈;骗局,诡计 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
35 longing | |
n.(for)渴望 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
36 misery | |
n.痛苦,苦恼,苦难;悲惨的境遇,贫苦 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
37 dreaded | |
adj.令人畏惧的;害怕的v.害怕,恐惧,担心( dread的过去式和过去分词) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
38 inflicted | |
把…强加给,使承受,遭受( inflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
39 determined | |
adj.坚定的;有决心的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
40 instinctive | |
adj.(出于)本能的;直觉的;(出于)天性的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
41 misgiving | |
n.疑虑,担忧,害怕 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
42 ratified | |
v.批准,签认(合约等)( ratify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
43 confide | |
v.向某人吐露秘密 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
44 dictated | |
v.大声讲或读( dictate的过去式和过去分词 );口授;支配;摆布 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
45 disinterested | |
adj.不关心的,不感兴趣的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
46 acting | |
n.演戏,行为,假装;adj.代理的,临时的,演出用的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
47 assailed | |
v.攻击( assail的过去式和过去分词 );困扰;质问;毅然应对 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
48 misgivings | |
n.疑虑,担忧,害怕;疑虑,担心,恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 );疑惧 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
49 assented | |
同意,赞成( assent的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
50 utterly | |
adv.完全地,绝对地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
51 fortitude | |
n.坚忍不拔;刚毅 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
52 incurred | |
[医]招致的,遭受的; incur的过去式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
53 possessed | |
adj.疯狂的;拥有的,占有的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
54 contemplate | |
vt.盘算,计议;周密考虑;注视,凝视 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
55 stultified | |
v.使成为徒劳,使变得无用( stultify的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
56 fictitious | |
adj.虚构的,假设的;空头的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
57 anguish | |
n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦,烦恼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
58 sobs | |
啜泣(声),呜咽(声)( sob的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
59 implored | |
恳求或乞求(某人)( implore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
60 pretence | |
n.假装,作假;借口,口实;虚伪;虚饰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
61 pretences | |
n.假装( pretence的名词复数 );作假;自命;自称 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
62 wretch | |
n.可怜的人,不幸的人;卑鄙的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
63 hoarsely | |
adv.嘶哑地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
64 horrified | |
a.(表现出)恐惧的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
65 frustration | |
n.挫折,失败,失效,落空 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
66 plunge | |
v.跳入,(使)投入,(使)陷入;猛冲 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
67 prostration | |
n. 平伏, 跪倒, 疲劳 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
68 avowing | |
v.公开声明,承认( avow的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
69 exhaustion | |
n.耗尽枯竭,疲惫,筋疲力尽,竭尽,详尽无遗的论述 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
70 irresistible | |
adj.非常诱人的,无法拒绝的,无法抗拒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
71 meditations | |
默想( meditation的名词复数 ); 默念; 沉思; 冥想 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
72 distress | |
n.苦恼,痛苦,不舒适;不幸;vt.使悲痛 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
73 lapse | |
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 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
74 procured | |
v.(努力)取得, (设法)获得( procure的过去式和过去分词 );拉皮条 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
75 promising | |
adj.有希望的,有前途的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
76 bustle | |
v.喧扰地忙乱,匆忙,奔忙;n.忙碌;喧闹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
77 scrupulously | |
adv.一丝不苟地;小心翼翼地,多顾虑地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
78 obsequiousness | |
媚骨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
79 inevitable | |
adj.不可避免的,必然发生的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
80 kindly | |
adj.和蔼的,温和的,爽快的;adv.温和地,亲切地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
81 displease | |
vt.使不高兴,惹怒;n.不悦,不满,生气 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
82 concealed | |
a.隐藏的,隐蔽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
83 conceal | |
v.隐藏,隐瞒,隐蔽 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
84 lodge | |
v.临时住宿,寄宿,寄存,容纳;n.传达室,小旅馆 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
85 lodgers | |
n.房客,租住者( lodger的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
86 discourse | |
n.论文,演说;谈话;话语;vi.讲述,著述 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
87 jaded | |
adj.精疲力竭的;厌倦的;(因过饱或过多而)腻烦的;迟钝的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
88 apparently | |
adv.显然地;表面上,似乎 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
89 invalids | |
病人,残疾者( invalid的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
90 sleeper | |
n.睡眠者,卧车,卧铺 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
91 alacrity | |
n.敏捷,轻快,乐意 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
92 entreated | |
恳求,乞求( entreat的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
93 abeyance | |
n.搁置,缓办,中止,产权未定 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
94 unintelligible | |
adj.无法了解的,难解的,莫明其妙的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
95 mischief | |
n.损害,伤害,危害;恶作剧,捣蛋,胡闹 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
96 agitation | |
n.搅动;搅拌;鼓动,煽动 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
97 entirely | |
ad.全部地,完整地;完全地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
98 animation | |
n.活泼,兴奋,卡通片/动画片的制作 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
99 awakening | |
n.觉醒,醒悟 adj.觉醒中的;唤醒的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
100 remorse | |
n.痛恨,悔恨,自责 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
101 softened | |
(使)变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 ); 缓解打击; 缓和; 安慰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
102 abiding | |
adj.永久的,持久的,不变的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
103 wholesome | |
adj.适合;卫生的;有益健康的;显示身心健康的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
104 awakened | |
v.(使)醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 );(使)觉醒;弄醒;(使)意识到 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
105 guilt | |
n.犯罪;内疚;过失,罪责 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
106 intensity | |
n.强烈,剧烈;强度;烈度 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
107 imprisoned | |
下狱,监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
108 meshes | |
网孔( mesh的名词复数 ); 网状物; 陷阱; 困境 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
109 ingenuity | |
n.别出心裁;善于发明创造 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
110 prudence | |
n.谨慎,精明,节俭 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
111 vaguely | |
adv.含糊地,暖昧地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
112 imputed | |
v.把(错误等)归咎于( impute的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
113 clandestine | |
adj.秘密的,暗中从事的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
114 turpitude | |
n.可耻;邪恶 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
115 seizure | |
n.没收;占有;抵押 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
116 appalling | |
adj.骇人听闻的,令人震惊的,可怕的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
117 humbly | |
adv. 恭顺地,谦卑地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
118 remorsefully | |
adv.极为懊悔地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
119 proceeding | |
n.行动,进行,(pl.)会议录,学报 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
120 proceedings | |
n.进程,过程,议程;诉讼(程序);公报 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
121 folly | |
n.愚笨,愚蠢,蠢事,蠢行,傻话 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
122 deplored | |
v.悲叹,痛惜,强烈反对( deplore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
123 abrupt | |
adj.突然的,意外的;唐突的,鲁莽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
124 intoxicating | |
a. 醉人的,使人兴奋的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
125 attain | |
vt.达到,获得,完成 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
126 firmament | |
n.苍穹;最高层 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
127 contemplated | |
adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
128 abhorred | |
v.憎恶( abhor的过去式和过去分词 );(厌恶地)回避;拒绝;淘汰 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
129 miserable | |
adj.悲惨的,痛苦的;可怜的,糟糕的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
130 blight | |
n.枯萎病;造成破坏的因素;vt.破坏,摧残 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
131 villa | |
n.别墅,城郊小屋 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
132 villain | |
n.反派演员,反面人物;恶棍;问题的起因 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
133 molest | |
vt.骚扰,干扰,调戏 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
134 perfectly | |
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
135 revival | |
n.复兴,复苏,(精力、活力等的)重振 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
136 prospect | |
n.前景,前途;景色,视野 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
137 molestation | |
n.骚扰,干扰,调戏;折磨 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
138 reverted | |
恢复( revert的过去式和过去分词 ); 重提; 回到…上; 归还 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
139 ERECTED | |
adj. 直立的,竖立的,笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立,建立 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
140 calamity | |
n.灾害,祸患,不幸事件 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
141 favourable | |
adj.赞成的,称赞的,有利的,良好的,顺利的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
142 persuasion | |
n.劝说;说服;持有某种信仰的宗派 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
143 disastrous | |
adj.灾难性的,造成灾害的;极坏的,很糟的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
144 inclination | |
n.倾斜;点头;弯腰;斜坡;倾度;倾向;爱好 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
145 curiously | |
adv.有求知欲地;好问地;奇特地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
146 noted | |
adj.著名的,知名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
147 circumlocution | |
n. 绕圈子的话,迂回累赘的陈述 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
148 embarrassment | |
n.尴尬;使人为难的人(事物);障碍;窘迫 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
149 lodged | |
v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 );暂住;埋入;(权利、权威等)归属 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
150 delightful | |
adj.令人高兴的,使人快乐的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
151 revelling | |
v.作乐( revel的现在分词 );狂欢;着迷;陶醉 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
152 distinguished | |
adj.卓越的,杰出的,著名的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
153 lengthen | |
vt.使伸长,延长 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
154 amplify | |
vt.放大,增强;详述,详加解说 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
155 narrative | |
n.叙述,故事;adj.叙事的,故事体的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
156 sojourn | |
v./n.旅居,寄居;逗留 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
157 gore | |
n.凝血,血污;v.(动物)用角撞伤,用牙刺破;缝以补裆;顶 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
158 fixed | |
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
159 wielded | |
手持着使用(武器、工具等)( wield的过去式和过去分词 ); 具有; 运用(权力); 施加(影响) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
160 fidelity | |
n.忠诚,忠实;精确 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
161 justified | |
a.正当的,有理的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
162 consultation | |
n.咨询;商量;商议;会议 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
163 sterile | |
adj.不毛的,不孕的,无菌的,枯燥的,贫瘠的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
164 dwellers | |
n.居民,居住者( dweller的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
165 tinged | |
v.(使)发丁丁声( ting的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句: |
|
|
166 brilliance | |
n.光辉,辉煌,壮丽,(卓越的)才华,才智 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
167 drearily | |
沉寂地,厌倦地,可怕地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
168 promptly | |
adv.及时地,敏捷地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
169 severing | |
v.切断,断绝( sever的现在分词 );断,裂 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
170 steadily | |
adv.稳定地;不变地;持续地 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
171 concealment | |
n.隐藏, 掩盖,隐瞒 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
172 wont | |
adj.习惯于;v.习惯;n.习惯 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
173 exhausted | |
adj.极其疲惫的,精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
174 physically | |
adj.物质上,体格上,身体上,按自然规律 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
175 exultation | |
n.狂喜,得意 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
176 mingled | |
混合,混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 ); 混进,与…交往[联系] | |
参考例句: |
|
|
177 writhe | |
vt.挣扎,痛苦地扭曲;vi.扭曲,翻腾,受苦;n.翻腾,苦恼 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
178 humiliation | |
n.羞辱 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
179 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
180 dispersed | |
adj. 被驱散的, 被分散的, 散布的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
181 drearier | |
使人闷闷不乐或沮丧的( dreary的比较级 ); 阴沉的; 令人厌烦的; 单调的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
182 abode | |
n.住处,住所 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
183 standing | |
n.持续,地位;adj.永久的,不动的,直立的,不流动的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
184 savings | |
n.存款,储蓄 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
185 apprehension | |
n.理解,领悟;逮捕,拘捕;忧虑 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
186 propriety | |
n.正当行为;正当;适当 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
187 seclusion | |
n.隐遁,隔离 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
188 banishment | |
n.放逐,驱逐 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
189 moody | |
adj.心情不稳的,易怒的,喜怒无常的 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
190 squire | |
n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
191 savage | |
adj.野蛮的;凶恶的,残暴的;n.未开化的人 | |
参考例句: |
|
|
欢迎访问英文小说网 |