Mr. Creswell's only son, who was named after Mr. Creswell's only brother, by no means resembled his prototype either in appearance, manners, or disposition1. For whereas Tom Creswell the elder had been a long, lean, washed-out-looking person, with long, wiry black hair, sallow complexion2, hollow cheeks, and a faint dawn of a moustache (in his youth he had turned down his collars and modelled himself generally on Lord Byron, and throughout his life he was declared by his wife to be most aristocratic and romantic-looking), Tom Creswell the younger had a small, round, bullet head, with closely cropped sandy hair, eyes deeply sunken and but little visible, snub nose, wide mouth, and dimpled chin. Tom Creswell the elder rose at noon, and lay upon the sofa all day, composing verses, reading novels, or playing the flute3. Tom Creswell the younger was up at five every morning, round through the stables, saw the horses properly fed, peered into every corn-bin ("Darng, now whey do thot? Darnged if un doesn't count cam-grains, I think," was the groom's muttered exclamation4 on this proceeding), ran his hand over the animals, and declared that they "didn't carry as much flesh as they might," with a look at the helpers which obviously meant that they starved the cattle and sold the oats. Then Tom the younger would go to the garden, where his greatest delight lay in counting the peaches and nectarines, and plums and apricots, nestling coyly against the old red south wall, in taking stock of the cucumbers and melons under their frames, and in ticking off the number of the bunches of grapes slowly ripening5 in the sickly heat of the vinery, while the Scotch6 head-gardener, a man whose natural hot-headedness was barely kept within bounds by the strictness of his religious opinions, would stand by looking on, outwardly placid7, but inwardly burning to deliver himself of his sentiments in the Gaelic language. Tom Creswell the elder was always languid and ailing8; as a boy he had worn a comforter, and a hare-skin on his chest, had taken cough-lozenges and jujubes, had been laughed at and called "Molly" and "Miss" by his schoolfellows, and had sighed and simpered away his existence. Tom Creswell the younger was strong as a Shetland pony9, and hard as a tennis-ball, full of exuberant10 vitality11 which, not finding sufficient vent12 in ordinary schoolboy fun, in cricket, or hockey, or football, let itself off in cruelty, in teasing and stoning animals, in bullying13 smaller boys. Tom Creswell the elder was weak, selfish, idle, and conceited14, but--you could not help allowing it--he was a gentleman. Tom Creswell the younger--you could not possibly deny it--was a blatant15 cad.
Not the least doubt of it. Everybody knew it, and most people owned it. Down in the village it was common talk. Mr. Creswell was wonderfully respected in Helmingham town, though the old people minded the day when he was thought little of. Helmingham is strictly17 Conservative, and when Mr. Creswell first settled himself at Woolgreaves, and commenced his restoration of the house, and was known to be spending large sums on the estate, and was seen to have horses and equipages very far outshining those of Sir Thomas Churchill of the Park, who was lord of the manor18, and a county magnate of the very first order, the village folk could not understand a man of no particular birth or breeding, and whose money, it was well known, had been made in trade--which, to the Helmingham limited comprehension, meant across a counter in a shop, "just like Tom Boucher, the draper"--attaining such a position. They did not like the idea of being patronised by one whom they considered to be of their own order; and the foolish face which had been transmitted through ten generations, and the stupid head which had never had a wise idea or a kindly19 thought in it, received the homage20 which was denied to the clever man who had been the founder21 of his own fortune, and who was the best landlord and the kindest neighbour in the country round. But this prejudice soon wore away. The practical good sense which had gained for Mr. Creswell his position soon made itself felt among the Helmingham folk, and the "canny23" ones soon grew as loud in his praise as they had been in his disparagement24. Even Jack25 Forman, the ne'er-do-weel of the village, who was always sunning his fat form at alehouse-doors, and who had but few good words for any one, save for the most recent "stander" of beer, had been heard to declare outside that Mr. Creswell was the "raight soort," a phrase which, in Jack's limited vocabulary, stood for something highly complimentary26. The young ladies, too, were exceedingly popular. They were pretty, of a downright English prettiness, expressed in hair and eyes and complexion, a prettiness commending itself at once to the uneducated English rustic27 taste, which is apt to find classical features "peaky," and romantic expression "fal-lal." They were girls about whom there was "no nonsense"--cheerful, bright, and homely28. The feelings which congealed29 into cold politeness under the influence of Marian Ashurst's supposed "superiority" overflowed30 with womanly tenderness when their possessor was watching Widow Halton through the fever, or tending little Madge Mason's crippled limb. The blight31 faces of "the young ladies" were known for miles through the country round, and whenever sickness or distress32 crossed the threshold they were speedily followed by these ministering angels. If human prayers for others' welfare avail on high, Mr. Creswell and his nieces had them in scores.
But the Helmingham folk did not pray much for young Tom; on the contrary, their aspirations33 towards him were, it is to be feared, of a malignant34 kind. The warfare35 which always existed between the village folk and the Grammar-School boys was carried on without rancour. The farmers whose orchards36 were robbed, whose growing wheat was trampled37 down, whose ducks were dog-hunted, contented38 themselves with putting in an occasional appearance with a cart-whip, fully16 knowing, at the same time, the impossibility of catching39 their young and active tormentors, and with "darnging" the rising generation in general, and the youth then profiting by Sir Ranulph Clinton's generosity40 in particular. The village tradesmen whose windows were broken, when they discovered who were the offenders41, laid on an additional item to their parents' account; when they could not bring the crime home to any boy in particular, laid on an additional item to Mr. Ashurst's account, and thus consoled themselves. Moreover, there was a general feeling that somehow, in a way that they could not and never attempted to explain, the school, since Mr. Ashurst had had it in hand, had been a credit to the place, and the canny folk, in their canniness42, liked something which brought them credit and cost them nothing, and had friendly feelings to the masters and the boys.
But not to young Tom Creswell. They hated him, and they said so roundly. What was youthful merriment and mischief43 in other boys was, they averred44, "bedevilment" in young Tom. Standing45 at their doors on fine summer evenings, the village folk would pause in their gossip to look after him as he cantered by on his chestnut46 pony--an animal which Banks, the farrier, declared to be as vicious and as cross-grained as its master. Eyes were averted47 as he passed, and no hat was raised in salutation; but that mattered little to the rider. He noticed it, of course, as he noticed everything in his hang-dog manner, with furtive48 glances under his eyebrows49; and he thought that when he came into his kingdom--he often speculated upon that time--he would make these dogs pay for their insolence50. Jack Forman was never drunk; no given amount of beer--and it was always given in Jack's case, as he never paid for it--could make him wholly intoxicated51; but when he was in that state which he explained himself as having "an extry pint52 in him," Jack would stand up, holding on by the horse-trough in front of the Seven Stars, and shake his disengaged fist at young Tom riding past, and express his wish to wring53 young Tom's neck. Mr. Benthall, who had succeeded Mr. Ashurst as head-master of the school, was soon on excellent terms with Mr. Creswell, and thus had an opportunity of getting an insight into young Tom's character--an opportunity which rendered him profoundly thankful that that interesting youth was no longer numbered among his scholars, and caused him much wonderment as to how Trollope, who was the curate of a neighbouring parish, who had been chosen for young Tom's private tutor, could possibly get on with his pupil. Mr. Trollope, a mild, gentlemanly, retiring young man, with a bashful manner and a weak voice, found himself utterly54 unable to cope with the lout55, who mocked at him before his face and mimicked56 him behind his back, and refused to be taught or guided by him in any way. So Mr. Trollope, after speaking to the lout's father, and finding but little good resulting therefrom, contented himself with setting exercises which were never done, and marking out lessons which were never learned, and bearing a vast amount of contumely and unpleasantness for the sake of a salary which was very regularly paid.
It must not be supposed that his son's strongly marked characteristics passed unobserved by Mr. Creswell, or that they failed to cause him an immensity of pain. The man's life had been so hard and earnest, so engrossing57 and so laborious58, that he had only allowed himself two subjects for distraction59, occasionally indulged in; one, regret for his wife; the other, hope in his son. As time passed away and he grew older, the first lessened60 and the other grew. His Jenny had been an angel on earth, he thought, and was now an angel in heaven, and the period was nearing, rapidly nearing, when, as he himself humbly61 hoped, he might be permitted to join her. Then his son would take his place, with no ladder to climb, no weary heart-burning and hard slaving to go through, but with the position achieved, the ball at his foot. In Mr. Creswell's own experience he had seen a score of men, whose fathers had been inferior to him in natural talent and business capacity, and in luck, which was not the least part of the affair, holding their own with the landed gentry62 whose ancestry63 had been "county people" for ages past, and playing at squires64 with as much grace and tact65 as if cotton-twist and coal-dust were things of which they might have heard, indeed, but with which they had never been brought into contact. It had been the dream of the old man's life that his son should be one of these. The first idea of the purchase of Woolgreaves, the lavish66 splendour with which the place had been rehabilitated67 and with which it was kept up, the still persistent68 holding on to business and superintending, though with but rare intervals69, his own affairs, all sprang from this hope. The old gentleman's tastes were simple in the extreme. He hated grandeur70, disliked society, had had far more than enough of business worries. There was plenty, more than plenty, for him and his nieces to live on in affluence71, but it had been the dearest wish of his heart to leave his son a man of mark, and do it he would.
Did he really think so? Not in his inmost heart. The keen eyes which had been accustomed for so long to read human nature like a book refused to be hoodwinked; the keen sense used to sift72 and balance human motives73 refused to be paltered with; the logical powers which deduced effect from cause refused to be stifled74 or led astray. To no human being were Tom Creswell's moral deficiencies and shortcomings more patent than to his father; it is needless to say that to none were they the subject of such bitter anguish75. Mr. Creswell knew that his son was a failure, and worse than a failure. If he had been merely stupid there would have been not much to grieve over. The lad would have been a disappointment--as how many lads are disappointments to fond parents!--and that was all. Hundreds, thousands of stupid young men filled their position in society with average success. Their money supported them, and they pulled through. He had hoped for something better than this for his son, but in the bitterness of his grief he allowed to himself that he would have been contented even with so much. But Mr. Creswell knew that his son was worse than stupid; that he was bad, low in his tastes and associations, sordid77 and servile in his heart, cunning, mean, and despicable. All the qualities which should have distinguished78 him--gentlemanly bearing, refined manners, cultivated tastes, generous impulses--all these he lacked: with a desire for sharp practice, hard-heartedness, rudeness towards those beneath him in the social scale, boorishness79 towards his equals, he was overflowing80. Lout that he was, he had not even reverence81 for his father, had not even the decency82 to attempt to hide his badness, but paraded it in the open day before the eyes of all, with a kind of sullen83 pride. And that was to be the end of all Mr. Creswell's plotting and planning, all his hard work and high hopes? For this he had toiled85, and slaved, and speculated? Many and many a bitter hour did the old man pass shut away in the seclusion86 of his library, thinking over the bright hopes which he had indulged in as regarded his son's career, and the way in which they had been slighted, the bright what might have been, the dim what was. Vainly the father would endeavour to argue with himself, that the boy was as yet but a boy; that when he became a man he would put away the things which were not childish indeed, for then would there have been more hope, but bad, and in the fulness of time develop into what had been expected of him. Mr. Creswell knew to the contrary. He had watched his son for years with too deep an interest not to have perceived that, as the years passed away, the light lines in the boy's character grew dim and faint, and the dark lines deepened in intensity87. Year by year the boy became harder, coarser, more calculating, and more avaricious88. As a child he had lent his pocket money out on usury89 to his schoolfellows, and now he talked to his father about investments and interest in a manner which would have pleased some parents and amused others, but which brought anything but pleasure to Mr. Creswell as he marked the keen hungry look in the boy's sunken eyes, and listened to his half-framed and abortive90 but always sordid plans.
Between father and son there was not the smallest bond of sympathy; that, Mr. Creswell had brought himself to confess. How many score times had he looked into the boy's face, hoping to see there some gleam of filial love, and had turned away bitterly disappointed! How often had he tried to engage the lad in topics of conversation which he imagined would have been congenial to him, and on which he might have suffered himself to be drawn91 out, but without the slightest success! The jovial92 miller93 who lived upon the Dee was not one whit94 less careless than Tom Creswell about the opinion which other folks entertained of him, so long as you did not interfere95 with any of his plans. Even the intended visit of Mrs. Ashurst and Marian to Woolgreaves elicited96 very little remark from him, although the girls imagined it might not be quite acceptable to him, and consulted together as to how the news should be broken to the domestic bashaw. After a great deal of cogitation97 and suggestion, it was decided98 that the best plan would be to take the tyrant99 at a favourable100 opportunity--at meal-time, for instance--and to approach the subject in a light and airy manner, as though it were of no great consequence, and was only mentioned for the sake of something to say. The plot thus conceived was duly carried out two days afterwards, on an occasion when, from the promptitude and agility101 with which he wielded102 his knife and fork, and the stertorous103 grunts104 and lip-smackings which accompanied his performance, it was rightly judged that Master Tom was enjoying his dinner with an extra relish105. Mr. Creswell was absent--he seldom attended at the luncheon106-table--and the girls interchanged a nod of intelligence, and prepared to commence the play. They had had but little occasion or opportunity for acting107, and were consequently nervous to a degree.
"Did you see much of Mrs. Ashurst in--in poor Mr. Ashurst's time, at the school, Tom?" commenced Gertrude, with a good deal of hesitation108 and a profound study of her plate.
"No, no, not much--quite enough!" returned Tom, without raising his head.
"Why quite enough, Tom?" came in Maude to the rescue. "She is a most delightful109 woman, I'm sure."
"Most charming," threw in Gertrude, a little undecidedly, but still in support.
"Ah, very likely," said Tom. "We didn't see much of her--the day-boys, I mean; but Peacock and the other fellows who boarded at M. Ashurst's declared she used to water the beer, and never sent back half the fellows' towels and sheets when they left."
"How disgraceful! how disgusting!" burst out Maude. "Mrs. Ashurst is a perfect lady, and--oh, what wretches110 boys are!"
"Screech111 away! I don't mind," said the philosophic112 Tom. "Only what's up about this? What's the matter with old Mother Ashurst?"
"Nothing is the matter with Mrs. Ashurst, your father's friend, Tom," said Gertrude, trying a bit of dignity, and failing miserably113 therein, for Gertrude was a lovable, kissable, Dresden-china style of beauty, without a particle of dignity in her whole composition. "Mrs. Ashurst is your father's friend, sir, at least the widow of his old friend, and your father has asked her to come and stay here on a visit, and--and we all hope you'll be polite to her." It was seldom that Gertrude achieved such a long sentence, or delivered one with so much force. It was quite plain that Mrs. Ashurst was a favourite of hers.
"Oh," said Tom, "all right! Old Mother Ashurst's coming here on a visit, is she? All right!"
"And Miss Ashurst comes with her," said Maude.
"Oh, Lord!" cried Tom Creswell. "Miss Prim114 coming too! That'll be a clear saving of the governor's vinegar and olives all the time she's here. She's a nice creature, she is!"
And he screwed up his mouth with an air of excessive distaste.
"Well, at all events, she's going to be your father's guest, and we must all do our best to make the visit pleasant to them," said Gertrude, who, like most people who are most proud of what they do least well, thought she was playing dignity admirably.
"Oh, I don't care!" said Tom. "If the governor likes to have them here, and you two girls are so sweet upon them all of a sudden, I say, all right. Only look here--no interference with me in any way. The sight of me mustn't make the old lady break down and burst out blubbering, or anything of that sort, and no asking me how I'm getting on with my lessons, and that kind of thing. Stow that, mind!"
"You needn't trouble yourself, I think," said Maude; "it is scarcely likely that either Mrs. or Miss Ashurst will feel very keen interest in you or your pursuits."
And out of Maude's flashing eyes, and through Maude's tightly compressed lips, the sarcasm115 came cutting like a knife.
But when their visitors had been but a very short time established at Woolgreaves, it became evident not merely to Mr. Creswell, but to all in the house, that Master Tom had at last met with some one who could exercise influence over him, and that some one was Marian Ashurst. It was the treatment that did it. Tom had been alternately petted and punished, scolded and spoiled, but he had never been turned into ridicule116 before, and when Marian tried that treatment on him he succumbed117 at once. He confessed he had always thought that "he could not stand chaff," and now he knew it. Marian's badinage118 was, as might be supposed, of a somewhat grave and serious order. Tom's bluntness, uncouthness119, avarice120, and self-love were constantly betraying themselves in his conversation and conduct, and each of them offered an admirable target at which Marian fired telling shots. The girls were at first astonished and then delighted, as was Mr. Creswell, who had a faint hope that under the correction thus lightly administered his son might be brought to see how objectionable were certain of his views and proceedings121. The lout himself did not like it at all. His impossibility of standing "chaff," or of answering it, rendered him for the first time a nonentity122 in the family circle; his voice, usually loud and strident, was hushed whenever Marian came into the room. The domestic atmosphere at Woolgreaves was far more pleasant than it had been for some time, and Mr. Creswell thought that the "sweet little girl" was not merely a "dead hand at a bargain," but that she possessed123 the brute124-taming power in a manner hitherto undreamed of. Decidedly she was a very exceptional person, and more highly gifted than any one would suppose.
Tom hated her heartily125, and chafed126 inwardly because he did not see his way to revenging himself on her. He had not the wit to reply when Marian turned him into ridicule, and he dared not answer her with mere76 rudeness; so he remained silent and sulky, brooding over his rage, and racking his brains to try and find a crack in his enemy's armour--a vulnerable place. He found it at last, but, characteristically, took no notice at the time, waiting for his opportunity. That came. One day, after luncheon, when her mother had gone up for a quiet nap, and the girls were practising duets in the music-room, Marian set out for a long walk across the hard, dry, frost-covered fields to the village; the air was brisk and bracing127, and the girl was in better spirits than usual. She thoroughly128 appreciated the refined comforts and the luxurious129 living of Woolgreaves, and the conduct of the host and his nieces towards her had been so perfectly130 charming, that she had almost forgotten that her enjoyment131 of those luxuries was but temporary, and that very shortly she would have to face the world in a worse position than she had as yet occupied, and to fight the great battle of life, too, for her mother and herself. Often in the evening, as she sat in the drawing-room buried in the soft cushions of the sofa, dreamily listening to the music which the girls were playing, lazily watching her mother cosily132 seated in the chimney-corner, and old Mr. Creswell by her, quietly beating time to the tune22, the firelight flickering133 over the furniture and appointments bespeaking134 wealth and comfort, she would fall into a kind of half-trance, in which she would believe that the great desire of her life had been accomplished135, and that she was rich--placed far above the necessity of toil84 or the torture of penury136. Nor was the dream ever entirely137 dispelled138. The comfort and luxury were there, and as to the term of her enjoyment, how could that be prolonged? Her busy brain was filled with that idea this afternoon, and so deeply was she in thought, that she scarcely started at a loud crashing of branches close beside her, and only had time to draw back as Tom Creswell's chestnut mare139, with Tom Creswell on her back, landed into the field beside her.
"Good heavens, Tom, how you startled me!" cried Marian; "and what's the matter with Kitty? She's covered with foam140, and trembling all over!"
"I've been taking it out of the blunder-headed brute, that's all, Miss Ashurst," said the lout, with a vicious dig of his spurs into the mare's sides, which caused her to snort loudly and to rear on end.--"Ah, would you, you brute?--She's got it in her head that she won't jump to-day, and I'm showing her she will, and she must, if I choose.--Stand still, now, and get your wind, d'ye hear?" And he threw the reins141 on the mare's neck, and turned round in his saddle, facing Marian. "I'm glad I've met you, Miss Ashurst," he continued, with a very evil light in his sullen face, "for I've got something to say to you, and I'm just in the mood to say it now."
He looked so thoroughly vicious and despicable, that Marian's first feeling of alarm changed into disgust as she looked at him and said--
"What is it, Tom?--say on!"
"Oh, I intend to," said the lout, with a baleful grin. "I intend to say on, whether you like it or not. I've waited a precious long time, and I intend to speak now. Look here. You've had a fine turn at me, you have! Chaffin' me, and pokin' your fun at me, and shuttin' me up whenever I spoke142. You're doosid clever, you are, and so sharp, and all that; and I'm such a fool, I am, but I've found out your game for all that!"
"My game, Tom! Do you know what you're talking about, and to whom you are talking?"
"Oh, don't I! That's just it. I'm talking to Miss Marian Ashurst, and Miss Marian Ashurst's game is moneymaking! Lord bless you, they know all about it down in the village--the Crokes, and the Whichers, and them, they're full of stories of you when you was a little girl, and they all know you're not changed now. But look here, keep it to yourself, or take it away from our place. Don't try it on here. It's quite enough to have those two girls saddled on the family, but they are relations, and that's some excuse. We don't want any more, mark that. My father's getting old now, and he's weak, and don't see things so clearly as he did, but I do. I see why your mother's got hold of those girls, and how you're trying to make yourself useful to the governor. I heard you offering to go through the Home-Farm accounts the other day."
"I offered because your--because---- Oh, Tom, how dare you! You wicked, wicked boy!"
"Oh yes, I know, very likely; but I won't let any one interfere with me. You thought you were going to settle yourself on us. I don't intend it. I'm a boy--all right; but I know how to get my own way, and I means to have it. This hot-tempered brute" (pointing to the pony) "has found that out, and you'll find it out, too, before I have done with you. That's all.--Get on, now!"
The pony sprang into the air as he gave her a savage143 cut with his whip, and he rode off, leaving Marian in an agony of shame and rage.
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1
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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flute
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| n.长笛；v.吹笛 | |
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exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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ripening
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| v.成熟，使熟( ripen的现在分词 )；熟化；熟成 | |
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scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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ailing
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| v.生病 | |
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pony
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| adj.小型的；n.小马 | |
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exuberant
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| adj.充满活力的；（植物）繁茂的 | |
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vitality
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| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
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vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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bullying
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| v.恐吓，威逼( bully的现在分词 )；豪；跋扈 | |
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conceited
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| adj.自负的，骄傲自满的 | |
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blatant
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| adj.厚颜无耻的；显眼的；炫耀的 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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manor
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| n.庄园，领地 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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homage
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| n.尊敬，敬意，崇敬 | |
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Founder
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| n.创始者，缔造者 | |
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tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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canny
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| adj.谨慎的，节俭的 | |
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disparagement
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| n.轻视，轻蔑 | |
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jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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complimentary
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| adj.赠送的，免费的，赞美的，恭维的 | |
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rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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congealed
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| v.使凝结，冻结( congeal的过去式和过去分词 )；（指血）凝结 | |
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overflowed
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| 溢出的 | |
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blight
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| n.枯萎病；造成破坏的因素；vt.破坏，摧残 | |
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32
distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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33
aspirations
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| 强烈的愿望( aspiration的名词复数 )； 志向； 发送气音； 发 h 音 | |
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34
malignant
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| adj.恶性的，致命的；恶意的，恶毒的 | |
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35
warfare
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| n.战争(状态)；斗争；冲突 | |
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36
orchards
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| （通常指围起来的）果园( orchard的名词复数 ) | |
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37
trampled
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| 踩( trample的过去式和过去分词 )； 践踏； 无视； 侵犯 | |
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38
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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39
catching
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| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
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40
generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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41
offenders
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| n.冒犯者( offender的名词复数 )；犯规者；罪犯；妨害…的人（或事物） | |
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42
canniness
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| 精明 | |
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43
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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44
averred
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| v.断言( aver的过去式和过去分词 )；证实；证明…属实；作为事实提出 | |
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45
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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46
chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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47
averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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48
furtive
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| adj.鬼鬼崇崇的，偷偷摸摸的 | |
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49
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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50
insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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51
intoxicated
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| 喝醉的，极其兴奋的 | |
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52
pint
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| n.品脱 | |
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53
wring
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| n.扭绞；v.拧，绞出，扭 | |
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54
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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55
lout
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| n.粗鄙的人；举止粗鲁的人 | |
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56
mimicked
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| v.（尤指为了逗乐而）模仿( mimic的过去式和过去分词 )；酷似 | |
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57
engrossing
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| adj.使人全神贯注的，引人入胜的v.使全神贯注( engross的现在分词 ) | |
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58
laborious
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| adj.吃力的，努力的，不流畅 | |
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59
distraction
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| n.精神涣散，精神不集中，消遣，娱乐 | |
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60
lessened
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| 减少的，减弱的 | |
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61
humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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62
gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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63
ancestry
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| n.祖先，家世 | |
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64
squires
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| n.地主，乡绅( squire的名词复数 ) | |
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65
tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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66
lavish
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| adj.无节制的；浪费的；vt.慷慨地给予，挥霍 | |
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67
rehabilitated
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| 改造（罪犯等）( rehabilitate的过去式和过去分词 )； 使恢复正常生活； 使恢复原状； 修复 | |
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68
persistent
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| adj.坚持不懈的，执意的；持续的 | |
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69
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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70
grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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71
affluence
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| n.充裕，富足 | |
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72
sift
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| v.筛撒，纷落，详察 | |
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73
motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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74
stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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75
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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76
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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77
sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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78
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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79
boorishness
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80
overflowing
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| n. 溢出物,溢流 adj. 充沛的，充满的 动词overflow的现在分词形式 | |
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81
reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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82
decency
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| n.体面，得体，合宜，正派，庄重 | |
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83
sullen
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| adj.愠怒的，闷闷不乐的，(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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84
toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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85
toiled
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的过去式和过去分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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86
seclusion
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| n.隐遁，隔离 | |
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87
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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88
avaricious
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| adj.贪婪的，贪心的 | |
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89
usury
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| n.高利贷 | |
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90
abortive
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| adj.不成功的，发育不全的 | |
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91
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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92
jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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93
miller
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| n.磨坊主 | |
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94
whit
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| n.一点，丝毫 | |
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95
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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96
elicited
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| 引出，探出( elicit的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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97
cogitation
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| n.仔细思考，计划，设计 | |
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98
decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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99
tyrant
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| n.暴君，专制的君主，残暴的人 | |
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100
favourable
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| adj.赞成的，称赞的，有利的，良好的，顺利的 | |
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101
agility
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| n.敏捷，活泼 | |
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102
wielded
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| 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） | |
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103
stertorous
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| adj.打鼾的 | |
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104
grunts
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的第三人称单数 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说； 石鲈 | |
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105
relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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106
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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107
acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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108
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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109
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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110
wretches
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| n.不幸的人( wretch的名词复数 )；可怜的人；恶棍；坏蛋 | |
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111
screech
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| n./v.尖叫；(发出)刺耳的声音 | |
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112
philosophic
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| adj.哲学的，贤明的 | |
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113
miserably
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| adv.痛苦地；悲惨地；糟糕地；极度地 | |
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114
prim
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| adj.拘泥形式的，一本正经的；n.循规蹈矩，整洁；adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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115
sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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116
ridicule
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| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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117
succumbed
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| 不再抵抗（诱惑、疾病、攻击等）( succumb的过去式和过去分词 )； 屈从； 被压垮； 死 | |
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118
badinage
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| n.开玩笑，打趣 | |
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119
uncouthness
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120
avarice
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| n.贪婪；贪心 | |
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121
proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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122
nonentity
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| n.无足轻重的人 | |
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123
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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124
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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125
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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126
chafed
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| v.擦热（尤指皮肤）( chafe的过去式 )；擦痛；发怒；惹怒 | |
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127
bracing
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| adj.令人振奋的 | |
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128
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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129
luxurious
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| adj.精美而昂贵的；豪华的 | |
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130
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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131
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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132
cosily
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| adv.舒适地，惬意地 | |
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133
flickering
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| adj.闪烁的，摇曳的，一闪一闪的 | |
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134
bespeaking
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| v.预定( bespeak的现在分词 )；订（货）；证明；预先请求 | |
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135
accomplished
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| adj.有才艺的；有造诣的；达到了的 | |
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136
penury
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| n.贫穷，拮据 | |
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137
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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138
dispelled
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| v.驱散，赶跑( dispel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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139
mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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140
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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141
reins
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| 感情，激情； 缰( rein的名词复数 )； 控制手段； 掌管； （成人带着幼儿走路以防其走失时用的）保护带 | |
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142
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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143
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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