Such praise for the Dawn of the Day,
We've long since been convinced that a sunrise must be
All Glorious and Golden and Gay.
But we find there are mornings quite foggy and drear,
Till the grey light of daylight can hardly make clear
That the sun has arisen at all.
Dr. Richard Hale left his brood of temporary orphans2 without really expecting for them any particular oversight3 from Andrew Dykeman; but the two were sufficiently4 close friends to well warrant the latter in moving over to The Monastery—as Jimmie Saunders called it.
Mr. Dykeman was sufficiently popular with the young men to be welcome, even if he had not had a good excuse, and when they found how super-excellent his excuse was they wholly approved.
To accommodate Miss Orella was something—all the boys liked Miss Orella. They speculated among themselves on her increasing youth and good looks, and even exchanged sagacious theories as to the particular acting5 cause. But when they found that Mr. Dykeman's visit was to make room for the installation of Mrs. St. Cloud, they were more than pleased.
All the unexpressed ideals of masculine youth seemed centered in this palely graceful6 lady; the low, sweet voice, the delicate hands, the subtle sympathy of manner, the nameless, quiet charm of dress.
Young Burns became her slave on sight, Lawson and Peters fell on the second day; not one held out beyond the third. Even Susie's attractions paled, her very youth became a disadvantage; she lacked that large considering tenderness.
"Fact is," Mr. Peters informed his friends rather suddenly, "young women are selfish. Naturally, of course. It takes some experience to—well, to understand a fellow." They all agreed with him.
Mr. Dykeman, quiet and reserved as always, was gravely polite to the newcomer, and Mr. Skee revolved7 at a distance, making observations. Occasionally he paid some court to her, at which times she was cold to him; and again he devoted8 himself to the other ladies with his impressive air, as of one bowing low and sweeping9 the floor with a plumed10 hat.
Mr. Skee's Stetson had, as a matter of fact, no sign of plumage, and his bows were of a somewhat jerky order; but his gallantry was sweeping and impressive, none the less. If he remained too far away Mrs. St. Cloud would draw him to her circle, which consisted of all the other gentlemen.
There were two exceptions. Mr. James Saunders had reached the stage where any woman besides Susie was but a skirted ghost, and Morton was by this time so deeply devoted to Vivian that he probably would not have wavered even if left alone. He was not wholly a free agent, however.
Adela St. Cloud had reached an age when something must be done. Her mysterious absent husband had mysteriously and absently died, and still she never breathed a177 word against him. But the Bible Class in Bainville furnished no satisfactory material for further hopes, the place of her earlier dwelling11 seemed not wholly desirable now, and the West had called her.
Finding herself comfortably placed in Mr. Dykeman's room, and judging from the number of his shoe-trees and the quality of his remaining toilet articles that he might be considered "suitable," she decided12 to remain in the half-way house for a season. So settled, why, for a thousand reasons one must keep one's hand in.
There were men in plenty, from twenty year old Archie to the uncertain decades of Mr. Skee. Idly amusing herself, she questioned that gentleman indirectly13 as to his age, drawing from him astounding14 memories of the previous century.
When confronted with historic proof that the events he described were over a hundred years passed, he would apologize, admitting that he had no memory for dates. She owned one day, with gentle candor15, to being thirty-three.
"That must seem quite old to a man like you, Mr. Skee. I feel very old sometimes!" She lifted large eyes to him, and drew her filmy scarf around her shoulders.
"Your memory must be worse than mine, ma'am," he replied, "and work the same way. You've sure got ten or twenty years added on superfluous16! Now me!" He shook his head; "I don't remember when I was born at all. And losin' my folks so young, and the family Bible—I don't expect I ever shall. But I 'low I'm all of ninety-seven."
This being palpably impossible, and as the only local incidents he could recall in his youth were quite dateless adventures among the Indians, she gave it up. Why Mr. Skee should have interested her at all was difficult to say, unless it was the appeal to his uncertainty17—he was at least a game fish, if not edible18.
Of the women she met, Susie and Vivian were far the most attractive, wherefore Mrs. St. Cloud, with subtle sympathy and engaging frankness, fairly cast Mr. Saunders in Susie's arms, and vice19 versa, as opportunity occurred.
Morton she rather snubbed, treated him179 as a mere20 boy, told tales of his childhood that were in no way complimentary—so that he fled from her.
With Vivian she renewed her earlier influence to a great degree.
With some inquiry21 and more intuition she discovered what it was that had chilled the girl's affection for her.
"I don't wonder, my dear child," she said; "I never told you of that—I never speak of it to anyone.... It was one of the—" she shivered slightly—"darkest griefs of a very dark time.... He was a beautiful boy.... I never dreamed——"
The slow tears rose in her beautiful eyes till they shone like shimmering22 stars.
"Heaven send no such tragedy may ever come into your life, dear!"
She reached a tender hand to clasp the girl's. "I am so glad of your happiness!"
Vivian was silent. As a matter of fact, she was not happy enough to honestly accept sympathy. Mrs. St. Cloud mistook her attitude, or seemed to.
"I suppose you still blame me. Many people did. I often blame myself. One can180not be too careful. It's a terrible responsibility, Vivian—to have a man love you."
"But your life is all before you," pursued the older woman. "Your dream has come true! How happy—how wonderfully happy you must be!"
"I am not, not really," said the girl. "At least——"
"I know—I know; I understand," Mrs. St. Cloud nodded with tender wisdom. "You are not sure. Is not that it?"
That was distinctly "it," and Vivian so agreed.
"There is no other man?"
"Not the shadow of one!" said the girl firmly. And as her questioner had studied the field and made up her mind to the same end, she believed her.
"Then you must not mind this sense of uncertainty. It always happens. It is part of the morning clouds of maidenhood24, my dear—it vanishes with the sunrise!" And she smiled beatifically25.
Then the girl unburdened herself of her181 perplexities. She could always express herself so easily to this sympathetic friend.
"There are so many things that I—dislike—about him," she said. "Habits of speech—of manners. He is not—not what I——"
She paused.
"Not all the Dream! Ah! My dear child, they never are! We are given these beautiful ideals to guard and guide us; but the real is never quite the same. But when a man's soul opens to you—when he loves—these small things vanish. They can be changed—you will change them."
"Yes—he says so," Vivian admitted. "He says that he knows that he is—unworthy—and has done wrong things. But so have I, for that matter."
Mrs. St. Cloud agreed with her. "I am glad you feel that, my dear. Men have their temptations—their vices—and we good women are apt to be hard on them. But have we no faults? Ah, my dear, I have seen good women—young girls, like yourself—ruin a man's whole life by—well, by heartlessness; by lack of understanding. Most young men do things they become ashamed of when they really love. And in the case of a motherless boy like this—lonely, away from his home, no good woman's influence about—what else could we expect? But you can make a new man of him. A glorious work!"
"That's what he says. I'm not so sure—" The girl hesitated.
"Not sure you can? Oh, my child, it is the most beautiful work on earth! To see from year to year a strong, noble character grow under your helping26 hand! To be the guiding star, the inspiration of a man's life. To live to hear him say:
"'Ah, who am I that God should bow
From heaven to choose a wife for me?
What have I done He should endow
My home with thee?'"
There was a silence.
Vivian's dark eyes shone with appreciation27 for the tender beauty of the lines, the lovely thought. Then she arose and walked nervously28 across the floor, returning presently.
"Mrs. St. Cloud——"
"Call me Adela, my dear."
"Adela—dear Adela—you—you have been married. I have no mother. Tell me, ought not there to be more—more love? I'm fond of Morton, of course, and I do want to help him—but surely, if I loved him—I should feel happier—more sure!"
"The first part of love is often very confusing, my dear. I'll tell you how it is: just because you are a woman grown and feel your responsibilities, especially here, where you have so many men friends, you keep Morton at a distance. Then the external sort of cousinly affection you have for him rather blinds you to other feelings. But I have not forgotten—and I'm sure you have not—the memory of that hot, sweet night so long ago; the world swimming in summer moonlight and syringa sweetness; the stillness everywhere—and your first kiss!"
Vivian started to her feet. She moved to the window and stood awhile; came back and kissed her friend warmly, and went away without another word.
The lady betook herself to her toilet, and spent some time on it, for there was one of Miss Peeder's classes that night.
Mrs. St. Cloud danced with many, but most with Mr. Dykeman; no woman in the room had her swimming grace of motion, and yet, with all the throng29 of partners about her she had time to see Susie's bright head bobbing about beneath Mr. Saunders down-bent, happy face, and Vivian, with her eyes cast down, dancing with Morton, whose gaze never left her. He was attention itself, he brought her precisely30 the supper she liked, found her favorite corner to rest in, took her to sit on the broad piazza31 between dances, remained close to her, still talking earnestly, when all the outsiders had gone.
Vivian found it hard to sleep that night. All that he had said of his new hope, new power, new courage, bore out Mrs. St. Cloud's bright promise of a new-built life. And some way, as she had listened and did not forbid, the touch of his hand, the pressure of his arm, grew warmer and brought back the memories of that summer night so long ago.
He had begged hard for a kiss before he left her, and she quite had to tear herself away, as Susie drifted in, also late; and Aunt185 Orella said they must all go to bed right away—she was tired if they were not.
She did look tired. This dance seemed somehow less agreeable to her than had others. She took off her new prettinesses and packed them away in a box in the lower drawer.
"I'm an old fool!" she said. "Trying to dress up like a girl. I'm ashamed of myself!" Quite possibly she did not sleep well either, yet she had no room-mate to keep her awake by babbling32 on, as Susie did to Vivian.
Her discourse33 was first, last and always about Jimmie Saunders. He had said this, he had looked that, he had done so; and what did Vivian think he meant? And wasn't he handsome—and so clever!
Little Susie cuddled close and finally dropped off asleep, her arms around Vivian. But the older girl counted the hours; her head, or her heart, in a whirl.
Morton Elder was wakeful, too. So much so that he arose with a whispered expletive, took his shoes in his hand, and let himself softly out for a tramp in the open.
This was not the first of his love affairs, but with all his hot young heart he wished it was. He stood still, alone on the high stretches of moonlit mesa and looked up at the measureless, brilliant spaces above him.
"I'll keep straight—if I can have her!" he repeated under his breath. "I will! I will!"
It had never occurred to him before to be ashamed of the various escapades of his youth. He had done no more than others, many others. None of "the boys" he associated with intended to do what was wrong; they were quite harsh in judgment34 of those who did, according to their standards. None of them had been made acquainted with the social or pathological results of their amusements, and the mere "Zutritt ist Verboten" had never impressed them at all.
But now the gentler influences of his childhood, even the narrow morality of Bainville, rose in pleasant colors in his mind. He wished he had saved his money, instead of spending it faster than it came in. He wished he had kept out of poker35 and solo and barrooms generally. He wished, in a dumb, shamed way, that he could come to her as187 clean as she was. But he threw his shoulders back and lifted his head determinedly36.
"I'll be good to her," he determined37; "I'll make her a good husband."
In the days that followed his devotion was as constant as before, but more intelligent. His whole manner changed and softened38. He began to read the books she liked, and to talk about them. He was gentler to everyone, more polite, even to the waitresses, tender and thoughtful of his aunt and sister. Vivian began to feel a pride in him, and in her influence, deepening as time passed.
Mrs. Pettigrew, visiting the library on one of her frequent errands, was encountered there and devotedly39 escorted home by Mr. Skee.
"That is a most fascinating young lady who has Mr. Dykeman's room; don't you think so, ma'am?" quoth he.
"I do not," said Mrs. Pettigrew. "Young! She's not so young as you are—nothing like—never was!"
He threw back his head and laughed his queer laugh, which looked so uproarious and made so little noise.
188
"She certainly is a charmer, whatever her age may be," he continued.
"Glad you think so, Mr. Skee. It may be time you lost a fourth!"
"Lost a fourth? What in the—Hesperides!"
"If you can't guess what, you needn't ask me!" said the lady, with some tartness40. "But for my own part I prefer the Apaches. Good afternoon, Mr. Skee."
She betook herself to her room with unusual promptness, and refused to be baited forth41 by any kind of offered amusement.
"It's right thoughtful of Andy Dykeman, gettin' up this entertainment for Mrs. St. Cloud, isn't it, Mrs. Elder?" Thus Mr. Skee to Miss Orella a little later.
"I don't think it is Mr. Dykeman's idea at all," she told him. "It's those boys over there. They are all wild about her, quite naturally." She gave a little short sigh. "If Dr. Hale were at home I doubt if he would encourage it."
"I'm pretty sure he wouldn't, Ma'am. He's certainly down on the fair sex, even such a peacherino as this one. But with189 Andy, now, it's different. He is a man of excellent judgment."
"I guess all men's judgment is pretty much alike in some ways," said Miss Orella, oracularly. She seemed busy and constrained42, and Mr. Skee drifted off and paid court as best he might to Dr. Bellair.
"Charmed to find you at home, Ma'am," he said; "or shall I say at office?"
"Call it what you like, Mr. Skee; it's been my home for a good many years now."
"It's a mighty43 fine thing for a woman, livin' alone, to have a business, seems to me," remarked the visitor.
"It's a fine thing for any woman, married or single, to my mind," she answered. "I wish I could get Vivian Lane started in that kindergarten she talks about."
"There's kids enough, and goodness knows they need a gardener! What's lackin'? House room?"
"She thinks she's not really competent. She has no regular certificate, you see. Her parents would never let go of her long enough," the doctor explained.
"Some parents are pretty graspin', ain't190 they? To my mind, Miss Vivian would be a better teacher than lots of the ticketed ones. She's got the natural love of children."
"Perhaps if she thought there was 'a call' she might be willing. I doubt if the families here realize what they're missin'. Aint there some among your patients who could be stirred up a little?"
The doctor thought there were, and he suggested several names from his apparently45 unlimited46 acquaintance.
"I believe in occupation for the young. It takes up their minds," said Mr. Skee, and departed with serenity47. He strolled over to Dr. Hale's fence and leaned upon it, watching the preparations. Mr. Dykeman, in his shirt-sleeves, stood about offering suggestions, while the young men swarmed49 here and there with poles and stepladders, hanging Chinese lanterns.
"Hello, Elmer; come in and make yourself useful," called Mr. Dykeman.
"I'll come in, but I'll be switched if I'll be useful," he replied, laying a large hand on191 the fence and vaulting50 his long legs over it with an agility51 amazing in one of his alleged52 years. "You all are sure putting yourself out for this occasion. Is it somebody's birthday?"
"No; it's a get-up of these youngsters. They began by wanting Mrs. St. Cloud to come over to tea—afternoon tea—and now look at this!"
"Did she misunderstand the invitation as bad as that?"
"O, no; just a gradual change of plan. One thing leads to another, you know. Here, Archie! That bush won't hold the line. Put it on the willow53."
"I see," said Mr. Skee; "and, as we're quotin' proverbs, I might remark that 'While the cat's away the mice will play.'"
Mr. Dykeman smiled. "It's rather a good joke on Hale, isn't it?"
"I guess he's good for a week yet," said Mr. Dykeman. "Those medical associations do a lot of talking. Higher up there, George—a good deal higher."
He ran over to direct the boys, and Mr. Skee, hands behind him, strolled up and down the garden, wearing a meditative55 smile. He and Andrew Dykeman had been friends for many long years.
Dr. Bellair used her telephone freely after Mr. Skee's departure, making notes and lists of names. Late in the afternoon she found Vivian in the hall.
"I don't see much of you these days, Miss Lane," she said.
The girl flushed. Since Mrs. St. Cloud's coming and their renewed intimacy56 she had rather avoided the doctor, and that lady had kept herself conspicuously57 out of the way.
"Don't call me Miss Lane; I'm Vivian—to my friends."
"I hope you count me a friend?" said Dr. Bellair, gravely.
"I do, Doctor, and I'm proud to. But so many things have been happening lately," she laughed, a little nervously. "The truth is, I'm really ashamed to talk to you; I'm so lazy."
"That's exactly what I wanted to speak about. Aren't you ready to begin that little school of yours?"
"I'd like to—I should, really," said the girl. "But, somehow, I don't know how to set about it."
"I've been making some inquiries," said the doctor. "There are six or eight among my patients that you could count on—about a dozen young ones. How many could you handle?"
"Oh, I oughtn't to have more than twenty in any case. A dozen would be plenty to begin with. Do you think I could count on them—really?"
"I tell you what I'll do," her friend offered; "I'll take you around and introduce you to any of them you don't know. Most of 'em come here to the dances. There's Mrs. Horsford and Mrs. Blake, and that little Mary Jackson with the twins. You'll find they are mostly friends."
"You are awfully58 kind," said the girl. "I wish"—her voice took on a sudden note of intensity—"I do wish I were strong, like you, Dr. Bellair."
"I wasn't very strong—at your age—my child. I did the weakest of weak things—"
Vivian was eager to ask her what it was, but a door opened down one side passage and the doctor quietly disappeared down the other, as Mrs. St. Cloud came out.
"I thought I heard your voice," she said. "And Miss Elder's, wasn't it?"
"No; it was Dr. Bellair."
"A strong character, and a fine physician, I understand. I'm sorry she does not like me."
Mrs. St. Cloud's smile made it seem impossible that anyone should dislike her.
Vivian could not, however, deny the fact, and was not diplomatic enough to smooth it over, which her more experienced friend proceeded to do.
"It is temperamental," she said gently. "If we had gone to school together we would not have been friends. She is strong, downright, progressive; I am weaker, more sensitive, better able to bear than to do. You must find her so stimulating59."
"Yes," the girl said. "She was talking to me about my school."
"Your school?"
"Didn't you know I meant to have a sort of kindergarten? We planned it even before starting; but Miss Elder seemed to need me at first, and since then—things—have happened——"
"And other things will happen, dear child! Quite other and different things."
The lady's smile was bewitching. Vivian flushed slowly under her gaze.
"Oh, my dear, I watched you dancing together! You don't mind my noticing, do you?"
Her voice was suddenly tender and respectful. "I do not wish to intrude60, but you are very dear to me. Come into my room—do—and tell me what to wear to-night."
Mrs. St. Cloud's clothes had always been a delight to Vivian. They were what she would have liked to wear—and never quite have dared, under the New England fear of being "too dressy." Her own beauty was kept trimly neat, like a closed gentian.
Her friend was in the gayest mood. She showed her a trunkful of delicate garments and gave her a glittering embroidered61 scarf, which the girl rapturously admired, but declared she would never have the courage to wear.
"You shall wear it this very night," declared the lady. "Here—show me what you've got. You shall be as lovely as you are, for once!"
So Vivian brought out her modest wardrobe, and the older woman chose a gown of white, insisted on shortening the sleeves to fairy wings of lace, draped the scarf about her white neck, raised the soft, close-bound hair to a regal crown, and put a shining star in it, and added a string of pearls on the white throat.
"Look at yourself now, child!" she said.
Vivian looked, in the long depths of Mr. Dykeman's mirror. She knew that she had beauty, but had never seen herself so brilliantly attired62. Erect63, slender, graceful, the long lines of her young body draped in soft white, and her dark head, crowned and shining, poised64 on its white column, rising from the shimmering lace. Her color deepened as she looked, and added to the picture.
"You shall wear it to-night! You shall!"197 cried her admiring friend. "To please me—if no one else!"
Whether to please her or someone else, Vivian consented, the two arriving rather late at the garden party across the way.
Mr. Dykeman, looking very tall and fine in his evening clothes, was a cordial host, ably seconded by the eager boys about him.
The place was certainly a credit to their efforts, the bare rooms being turned to bowers65 by vines and branches brought from the mountains, and made fragrant66 by piled flowers. Lights glimmered67 through colored shades among the leaves, and on the dining table young Peters, who came from Connecticut, had rigged a fountain by means of some rubber tubing and an auger68 hole in the floor. This he had made before Mr. Dykeman caught him, and vowed69 Dr. Hale would not mind. Mr. Peters' enjoyment70 of the evening, however, was a little dampened by his knowledge of the precarious71 nature of this arrangement. He danced attendance on Mrs. St. Cloud, with the others, but wore a preoccupied72 expression, and stole in once or twice from the lit paths outside to make198 sure that all was running well. It was well to and during supper time, and the young man was complimented on his ingenuity73.
"Reminds me of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon," said Mr. Skee, sentimentally74.
"Why?" asked Mrs. Pettigrew.
"Oh, why, Ma'am? How can a fellow say why?" he protested. "Because it is so—so efflorescent, I suppose."
"Reminds me of a loose faucet," said she, sotto voce, to Dr. Bellair.
Mr. Peters beamed triumphantly75, but in the very hour of his glory young Burns, hastening to get a cup of coffee for his fair one, tripped over the concealed76 pipe, and the fountain poured forth its contributions among the feet of the guests.
This was a minor77 misadventure, however, hurting no one's feeling but Mr. Peters', and Mrs. St. Cloud was so kind to him in consequence that he was envied by all the others.
Mr. Dykeman was attentive78 to his guests, old and young, but Mrs. Pettigrew had not her usual smile for him; Miss Orella declined to dance, alleging79 that she was too tired, and Dr. Bellair somewhat dryly told him that he199 need not bother with her. He was hardly to be blamed if he turned repeatedly to Mrs. St. Cloud, whose tactful sweetness was always ready. She had her swarm48 of young admirers about her, yet never failed to find a place for her host, a smile and a word of understanding.
Her eyes were everywhere. She watched Mr. Skee waltzing with the youngest, providing well-chosen refreshments80 for Miss Orella, gallantly81 escorting Grandma to see the "Lovers' Lane" they had made at the end of the garden. Its twin lines of lights were all outside; within was grateful shadow.
Mrs. St. Cloud paced through this fragrant arbor82 with each and every one of the receiving party, uttering ever-fresh expressions of admiration83 and gratitude84 for their kind thoughtfulness, especially to Mr. Dykeman.
When she saw Susie and Mr. Saunders go in at the farther end, she constituted herself a sort of protective agency to keep every one else out, holding them in play with various pleasant arts.
And Vivian? When she arrived there was200 a little gasp85 from Morton, who was waiting for her near the door. She was indeed a sight to make a lover's heart leap. He had then, as it were, surrounded her. Vainly did the others ask for dances. Morton had unblushingly filled out a card with his own name and substituted it for the one she handed him. She protested, but the music sounded and he whirled her away before she could expostulate to any avail.
Half laughing and half serious, she let him monopolize87 her, but quite drove him away when Mr. Dykeman claimed his dance.
"All filled up!" said Morton for her, showing his card.
"Mine was promised yesterday, was it not, Miss Lane?" said the big man, smiling. And she went with him. He took her about the garden later, gravely admiring and attentive, and when Susie fairly rushed into her arms, begging her to come and talk with her, he left them both in a small rose-crowned summer-house and went back to Mrs. St. Cloud.
"Oh, Vivian, Vivian! What do you think!" Susie's face was buried on Vivian's shoulder. "I'm engaged!"
"He's the nicest man in the world!" breathed Susie, "and he loves me!"
"We all supposed he did. Didn't you know it before?"
"Oh, yes, in a way; but, Vivian—he kissed me!"
"Well, child, have you never in all your little life been kissed before?"
"Never, never, never!" she said. "I thought I had, but I haven't! Oh, I am so happy!"
"What's up?" inquired Morton, appearing with a pink lantern in his hand, in impatient search for his adored one. "Susie—crying?"
"No, I'm not," she said, and ran forthwith back to the house, whence Jimmy was bringing her ice cream.
Vivian started to follow her.
"Oh, no, Vivian; don't go. Wait." He dropped the lantern and took her hands. The paper cover flared91 up, showing her flushed cheeks and starry92 eyes. He stamped out the flame, and in the sudden darkness caught her in his arms.
For a moment she allowed him, turning her head away. He kissed her white shoulder.
"No! No, Morton—don't! You mustn't!"
She tried to withdraw herself, but he held her fast. She could feel the pounding of his heart.
"Oh, Vivian, don't say no! You will marry me, won't you? Some day, when I'm more worth while. Say you will! Some day—if not now. I love you so; I need you so! Say yes, Vivian."
He was breathing heavily. His arms held her motionless. She still kept her face turned from him.
"Let me go, Morton; let me go! You hurt me!"
"Say yes, dear, and I'll let you go—for a little while."
"Yes," said Vivian.
The ground jarred beside them, as a tall man jumped the hedge boundary. He stood a moment, staring.
"Well, is this my house, or Coney Island?" they heard him say. And then Morton swore softly to himself as Vivian left him and came out.
"Good evening, Dr. Hale," she said, a little breathlessly. "We weren't expecting you so soon."
"I should judge not," he answered. "What's up, anyhow?"
"The boys—and Mr. Dykeman—are giving a garden party for Mrs. St. Cloud."
"For whom?"
"For Adela St. Cloud. She is visiting us. Aren't you coming in?"
"Not now," he said, and was gone without another word.
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pall
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| v.覆盖，使平淡无味；n.柩衣，棺罩；棺材；帷幕 | |
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orphans
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| 孤儿( orphan的名词复数 ) | |
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oversight
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| n.勘漏，失察，疏忽 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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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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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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revolved
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| v.（使）旋转( revolve的过去式和过去分词 )；细想 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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plumed
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| 饰有羽毛的 | |
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dwelling
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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indirectly
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| adv.间接地，不直接了当地 | |
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astounding
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| adj.使人震惊的vt.使震惊，使大吃一惊astound的现在分词) | |
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candor
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| n.坦白，率真 | |
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superfluous
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| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
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uncertainty
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| n.易变，靠不住，不确知，不确定的事物 | |
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edible
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| n.食品，食物；adj.可食用的 | |
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vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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inquiry
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| n.打听，询问，调查，查问 | |
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shimmering
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| v.闪闪发光，发微光( shimmer的现在分词 ) | |
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somber
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| adj.昏暗的，阴天的，阴森的，忧郁的 | |
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maidenhood
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| n. 处女性, 处女时代 | |
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beatifically
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| adj. 祝福的, 幸福的, 快乐的, 慈祥的 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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piazza
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| n.广场；走廊 | |
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babbling
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| n.胡说，婴儿发出的咿哑声adj.胡说的v.喋喋不休( babble的现在分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
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discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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poker
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| n.扑克；vt.烙制 | |
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determinedly
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| adv.决意地；坚决地，坚定地 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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devotedly
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| 专心地； 恩爱地； 忠实地； 一心一意地 | |
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tartness
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| n.酸，锋利 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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constrained
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| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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impetus
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| n.推动，促进，刺激；推动力 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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unlimited
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| adj.无限的，不受控制的，无条件的 | |
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serenity
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| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
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swarm
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| n.(昆虫)等一大群；vi.成群飞舞；蜂拥而入 | |
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swarmed
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| 密集( swarm的过去式和过去分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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vaulting
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| n.（天花板或屋顶的）拱形结构 | |
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agility
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| n.敏捷，活泼 | |
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alleged
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| a.被指控的，嫌疑的 | |
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willow
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| n.柳树 | |
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chuckled
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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meditative
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| adj.沉思的，冥想的 | |
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intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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conspicuously
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| ad.明显地，惹人注目地 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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stimulating
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| adj.有启发性的，能激发人思考的 | |
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intrude
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| vi.闯入；侵入；打扰，侵扰 | |
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embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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attired
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| adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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poised
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| a.摆好姿势不动的 | |
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bowers
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| n.（女子的）卧室( bower的名词复数 )；船首锚；阴凉处；鞠躬的人 | |
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fragrant
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| adj.芬香的，馥郁的，愉快的 | |
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glimmered
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| v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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auger
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| n.螺丝钻，钻孔机 | |
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vowed
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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precarious
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| adj.不安定的，靠不住的；根据不足的 | |
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preoccupied
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| adj.全神贯注的，入神的；被抢先占有的；心事重重的v.占据（某人）思想，使对…全神贯注，使专心于( preoccupy的过去式) | |
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ingenuity
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| n.别出心裁；善于发明创造 | |
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sentimentally
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| adv.富情感地 | |
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triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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alleging
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| 断言，宣称，辩解( allege的现在分词 ) | |
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refreshments
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| n.点心,便餐;(会议后的)简单茶点招 待 | |
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gallantly
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| adv. 漂亮地，勇敢地，献殷勤地 | |
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arbor
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| n.凉亭；树木 | |
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83
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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monopolize
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| v.垄断，独占，专营 | |
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joyous
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| adj.充满快乐的；令人高兴的 | |
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contagious
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| adj.传染性的，有感染力的 | |
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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Flared
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| adj. 端部张开的, 爆发的, 加宽的, 漏斗式的 动词flare的过去式和过去分词 | |
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starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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