Early the next morning--directly after twelve--Miss Pole made her appearance at Miss Matty's. Some very trifling1 piece of business was alleged2 as a reason for the call; but there was evidently something behind. At last out it came.
"By the way, you'll think I'm strangely ignorant; but, do you really know, I am puzzled how we ought to address Lady Glenmire. Do you say, 'Your Ladyship,' where you would say 'you' to a common person? I have been puzzling all morning; and are we to say 'My Lady,' instead of 'Ma'am?' Now you knew Lady Arley--will you kindly3 tell me the most correct way of speaking to the peerage?"
Poor Miss Matty! she took off her spectacles and she put them on again--but how Lady Arley was addressed, she could not remember.
"It is so long ago," she said. "Dear! dear! how stupid I am! I don't think I ever saw her more than twice. I know we used to call Sir Peter, 'Sir Peter'--but he came much oftener to see us than Lady Arley did. Deborah would have known in a minute. 'My lady'-- 'your ladyship.' It sounds very strange, and as if it was not natural. I never thought of it before; but, now you have named it, I am all in a puzzle."
It was very certain Miss Pole would obtain no wise decision from Miss Matty, who got more bewildered every moment, and more perplexed4 as to etiquettes of address.
"Well, I really think," said Miss Pole, "I had better just go and tell Mrs Forrester about our little difficulty. One sometimes grows nervous; and yet one would not have Lady Glenmire think we were quite ignorant of the etiquettes of high life in Cranford."
"And will you just step in here, dear Miss Pole, as you come back, please, and tell me what you decide upon? Whatever you and Mrs Forrester fix upon, will be quite right, I'm sure. 'Lady Arley,' 'Sir Peter,'" said Miss Matty to herself, trying to recall the old forms of words.
"Who is Lady Glenmire?" asked I.
"Oh, she's the widow of Mr Jamieson--that's Mrs Jamieson's late husband, you know--widow of his eldest5 brother. Mrs Jamieson was a Miss Walker, daughter of Governor Walker. 'Your ladyship.' My dear, if they fix on that way of speaking, you must just let me practice a little on you first, for I shall feel so foolish and hot saying it the first time to Lady Glenmire."
It was really a relief to Miss Matty when Mrs Jamieson came on a very unpolite errand. I notice that apathetic6 people have more quiet impertinence than others; and Mrs Jamieson came now to insinuate7 pretty plainly that she did not particularly wish that the Cranford ladies should call upon her sister-in-law. I can hardly say how she made this clear; for I grew very indignant and warm, while with slow deliberation she was explaining her wishes to Miss Matty, who, a true lady herself, could hardly understand the feeling which made Mrs Jamieson wish to appear to her noble sister- in-law as if she only visited "county" families. Miss Matty remained puzzled and perplexed long after I had found out the object of Mrs Jamieson's visit.
When she did understand the drift of the honourable8 lady's call, it was pretty to see with what quiet dignity she received the intimation thus uncourteously given. She was not in the least hurt--she was of too gentle a spirit for that; nor was she exactly conscious of disapproving9 of Mrs Jamieson's conduct; but there was something of this feeling in her mind, I am sure, which made her pass from the subject to others in a less flurried and more composed manner than usual. Mrs Jamieson was, indeed, the more flurried of the two, and I could see she was glad to take her leave.
A little while afterwards Miss Pole returned, red and indignant. "Well! to be sure! You've had Mrs Jamieson here, I find from Martha; and we are not to call on Lady Glenmire. Yes! I met Mrs Jamieson, half-way between here and Mrs Forrester's, and she told me; she took me so by surprise, I had nothing to say. I wish I had thought of something very sharp and sarcastic10; I dare say I shall to-night. And Lady Glenmire is but the widow of a Scotch11 baron12 after all! I went on to look at Mrs Forrester's Peerage, to see who this lady was, that is to be kept under a glass case: widow of a Scotch peer--never sat in the House of Lords--and as poor as job, I dare say; and she--fifth daughter of some Mr Campbell or other. You are the daughter of a rector, at any rate, and related to the Arleys; and Sir Peter might have been Viscount Arley, every one says."
Miss Matty tried to soothe13 Miss Pole, but in vain. That lady, usually so kind and good-humoured, was now in a full flow of anger.
"And I went and ordered a cap this morning, to be quite ready," said she at last, letting out the secret which gave sting to Mrs Jamieson's intimation. "Mrs Jamieson shall see if it is so easy to get me to make fourth at a pool when she has none of her fine Scotch relations with her!"
In coming out of church, the first Sunday on which Lady Glenmire appeared in Cranford, we sedulously14 talked together, and turned our backs on Mrs Jamieson and her guest. If we might not call on her, we would not even look at her, though we were dying with curiosity to know what she was like. We had the comfort of questioning Martha in the afternoon. Martha did not belong to a sphere of society whose observation could be an implied compliment to Lady Glenmire, and Martha had made good use of her eyes.
"Well, ma'am! is it the little lady with Mrs Jamieson, you mean? I thought you would like more to know how young Mrs Smith was dressed; her being a bride." (Mrs Smith was the butcher's wife).
Miss Pole said, "Good gracious me! as if we cared about a Mrs Smith;" but was silent as Martha resumed her speech.
"The little lady in Mrs Jamieson's pew had on, ma'am, rather an old black silk, and a shepherd's plaid cloak, ma'am, and very bright black eyes she had, ma'am, and a pleasant, sharp face; not over young, ma'am, but yet, I should guess, younger than Mrs Jamieson herself. She looked up and down the church, like a bird, and nipped up her petticoats, when she came out, as quick and sharp as ever I see. I'll tell you what, ma'am, she's more like Mrs Deacon, at the 'Coach and Horses,' nor any one."
"Isn't it, ma'am? I beg pardon, I'm sure; but Jem Hearn said so as well. He said, she was just such a sharp, stirring sort of a body" -
"Lady," said Miss Pole.
"Lady--as Mrs Deacon."
Another Sunday passed away, and we still averted16 our eyes from Mrs Jamieson and her guest, and made remarks to ourselves that we thought were very severe--almost too much so. Miss Matty was evidently uneasy at our sarcastic manner of speaking.
Perhaps by this time Lady Glenmire had found out that Mrs Jamieson's was not the gayest, liveliest house in the world; perhaps Mrs Jamieson had found out that most of the county families were in London, and that those who remained in the country were not so alive as they might have been to the circumstance of Lady Glenmire being in their neighbourhood. Great events spring out of small causes; so I will not pretend to say what induced Mrs Jamieson to alter her determination of excluding the Cranford ladies, and send notes of invitation all round for a small party on the following Tuesday. Mr Mulliner himself brought them round. He WOULD always ignore the fact of there being a back-door to any house, and gave a louder rat-tat than his mistress, Mrs Jamieson. He had three little notes, which he carried in a large basket, in order to impress his mistress with an idea of their great weight, though they might easily have gone into his waistcoat pocket.
Miss Matty and I quietly decided17 that we would have a previous engagement at home: it was the evening on which Miss Matty usually made candle-lighters18 of all the notes and letters of the week; for on Mondays her accounts were always made straight--not a penny owing from the week before; so, by a natural arrangement, making candle-lighters fell upon a Tuesday evening, and gave us a legitimate19 excuse for declining Mrs Jamieson's invitation. But before our answer was written, in came Miss Pole, with an open note in her hand.
"So!" she said. "Ah! I see you have got your note, too. Better late than never. I could have told my Lady Glenmire she would be glad enough of our society before a fortnight was over."
"Yes," said Miss Matty, "we're asked for Tuesday evening. And perhaps you would just kindly bring your work across and drink tea with us that night. It is my usual regular time for looking over the last week's bills, and notes, and letters, and making candle- lighters of them; but that does not seem quite reason enough for saying I have a previous engagement at home, though I meant to make it do. Now, if you would come, my conscience would be quite at ease, and luckily the note is not written yet."
I saw Miss Pole's countenance20 change while Miss Matty was speaking.
"Don't you mean to go then?" asked she.
"Oh, no!" said, Miss Matty quietly. "You don't either, I suppose?"
"I don't know," replied Miss Pole. "Yes, I think I do," said she, rather briskly; and on seeing Miss Matty look surprised, she added, "You see, one would not like Mrs Jamieson to think that anything she could do, or say, was of consequence enough to give offence; it would be a kind of letting down of ourselves, that I, for one, should not like. It would be too flattering to Mrs Jamieson if we allowed her to suppose that what she had said affected21 us a week, nay22 ten days afterwards."
"Well! I suppose it is wrong to be hurt and annoyed so long about anything; and, perhaps, after all, she did not mean to vex23 us. But I must say, I could not have brought myself to say the things Mrs Jamieson did about our not calling. I really don't think I shall go."
"Oh, come! Miss Matty, you must go; you know our friend Mrs Jamieson is much more phlegmatic24 than most people, and does not enter into the little delicacies25 of feeling which you possess in so remarkable26 a degree."
"I thought you possessed27 them, too, that day Mrs Jamieson called to tell us not to go," said Miss Matty innocently.
But Miss Pole, in addition to her delicacies of feeling, possessed a very smart cap, which she was anxious to show to an admiring world; and so she seemed to forget all her angry words uttered not a fortnight before, and to be ready to act on what she called the great Christian28 principle of "Forgive and forget"; and she lectured dear Miss Matty so long on this head that she absolutely ended by assuring her it was her duty, as a deceased rector's daughter, to buy a new cap and go to the party at Mrs Jamieson's. So "we were most happy to accept," instead of "regretting that we were obliged to decline."
The expenditure29 on dress in Cranford was principally in that one article referred to. If the heads were buried in smart new caps, the ladies were like ostriches30, and cared not what became of their bodies. Old gowns, white and venerable collars, any number of brooches, up and down and everywhere (some with dogs' eyes painted in them; some that were like small picture-frames with mausoleums and weeping-willows neatly31 executed in hair inside; some, again, with miniatures of ladies and gentlemen sweetly smiling out of a nest of stiff muslin), old brooches for a permanent ornament32, and new caps to suit the fashion of the day--the ladies of Cranford always dressed with chaste33 elegance34 and propriety35, as Miss Barker once prettily36 expressed it.
And with three new caps, and a greater array of brooches than had ever been seen together at one time since Cranford was a town, did Mrs Forrester, and Miss Matty, and Miss Pole appear on that memorable37 Tuesday evening. I counted seven brooches myself on Miss Pole's dress. Two were fixed38 negligently39 in her cap (one was a butterfly made of Scotch pebbles40, which a vivid imagination might believe to be the real insect); one fastened her net neckerchief; one her collar; one ornamented41 the front of her gown, midway between her throat and waist; and another adorned42 the point of her stomacher. Where the seventh was I have forgotten, but it was somewhere about her, I am sure.
But I am getting on too fast, in describing the dresses of the company. I should first relate the gathering43 on the way to Mrs Jamieson's. That lady lived in a large house just outside the town. A road which had known what it was to be a street ran right before the house, which opened out upon it without any intervening garden or court. Whatever the sun was about, he never shone on the front of that house. To be sure, the living-rooms were at the back, looking on to a pleasant garden; the front windows only belonged to kitchens and housekeepers44' rooms, and pantries, and in one of them Mr Mulliner was reported to sit. Indeed, looking askance, we often saw the back of a head covered with hair powder, which also extended itself over his coat-collar down to his very waist; and this imposing45 back was always engaged in reading the St James's Chronicle, opened wide, which, in some degree, accounted for the length of time the said newspaper was in reaching us--equal subscribers with Mrs Jamieson, though, in right of her honourableness46, she always had the reading of it first. This very Tuesday, the delay in forwarding the last number had been particularly aggravating47; just when both Miss Pole and Miss Matty, the former more especially, had been wanting to see it, in order to coach up the Court news ready for the evening's interview with aristocracy. Miss Pole told us she had absolutely taken time by the forelock, and been dressed by five o'clock, in order to be ready if the St James's Chronicle should come in at the last moment--the very St James's Chronicle which the powdered head was tranquilly48 and composedly reading as we passed the accustomed window this evening.
"The impudence49 of the man!" said Miss Pole, in a low indignant whisper. "I should like to ask him whether his mistress pays her quarter-share for his exclusive use."
We looked at her in admiration50 of the courage of her thought; for Mr Mulliner was an object of great awe51 to all of us. He seemed never to have forgotten his condescension52 in coming to live at Cranford. Miss Jenkyns, at times, had stood forth53 as the undaunted champion of her sex, and spoken to him on terms of equality; but even Miss Jenkyns could get no higher. In his pleasantest and most gracious moods he looked like a sulky cockatoo. He did not speak except in gruff monosyllables. He would wait in the hall when we begged him not to wait, and then look deeply offended because we had kept him there, while, with trembling, hasty hands we prepared ourselves for appearing in company.
Miss Pole ventured on a small joke as we went upstairs, intended, though addressed to us, to afford Mr Mulliner some slight amusement. We all smiled, in order to seem as if we felt at our ease, and timidly looked for Mr Mulliner's sympathy. Not a muscle of that wooden face had relaxed; and we were grave in an instant.
Mrs Jamieson's drawing-room was cheerful; the evening sun came streaming into it, and the large square window was clustered round with flowers. The furniture was white and gold; not the later style, Louis Quatorze, I think they call it, all shells and twirls; no, Mrs Jamieson's chairs and tables had not a curve or bend about them. The chair and table legs diminished as they neared the ground, and were straight and square in all their corners. The chairs were all a-row against the walls, with the exception of four or five which stood in a circle round the fire. They were railed with white bars across the back and knobbed with gold; neither the railings nor the knobs invited to ease. There was a japanned table devoted55 to literature, on which lay a Bible, a Peerage, and a Prayer-Book. There was another square Pembroke table dedicated56 to the Fine Arts, on which were a kaleidoscope, conversation-cards, puzzle-cards (tied together to an interminable length with faded pink satin ribbon), and a box painted in fond imitation of the drawings which decorate tea-chests. Carlo lay on the worsted- worked rug, and ungraciously barked at us as we entered. Mrs Jamieson stood up, giving us each a torpid57 smile of welcome, and looking helplessly beyond us at Mr Mulliner, as if she hoped he would place us in chairs, for, if he did not, she never could. I suppose he thought we could find our way to the circle round the fire, which reminded me of Stonehenge, I don't know why. Lady Glenmire came to the rescue of our hostess, and, somehow or other, we found ourselves for the first time placed agreeably, and not formally, in Mrs Jamieson's house. Lady Glenmire, now we had time to look at her, proved to be a bright little woman of middle age, who had been very pretty in the days of her youth, and who was even yet very pleasant-looking. I saw Miss Pole appraising58 her dress in the first five minutes, and I take her word when she said the next day -
"My dear! ten pounds would have purchased every stitch she had on-- lace and all."
It was pleasant to suspect that a peeress could be poor, and partly reconciled us to the fact that her husband had never sat in the House of Lords; which, when we first heard of it, seemed a kind of swindling us out of our prospects59 on false pretences60; a sort of "A Lord and No Lord" business.
We were all very silent at first. We were thinking what we could talk about, that should be high enough to interest My Lady. There had been a rise in the price of sugar, which, as preserving-time was near, was a piece of intelligence to all our house-keeping hearts, and would have been the natural topic if Lady Glenmire had not been by. But we were not sure if the peerage ate preserves-- much less knew how they were made. At last, Miss Pole, who had always a great deal of courage and savoir faire, spoke54 to Lady Glenmire, who on her part had seemed just as much puzzled to know how to break the silence as we were.
"Has your ladyship been to Court lately?" asked she; and then gave a little glance round at us, half timid and half triumphant61, as much as to say, "See how judiciously62 I have chosen a subject befitting the rank of the stranger."
"I never was there in my life," said Lady Glenmire, with a broad Scotch accent, but in a very sweet voice. And then, as if she had been too abrupt63, she added: "We very seldom went to London--only twice, in fact, during all my married life; and before I was married my father had far too large a family" (fifth daughter of Mr Campbell was in all our minds, I am sure) "to take us often from our home, even to Edinburgh. Ye'll have been in Edinburgh, maybe?" said she, suddenly brightening up with the hope of a common interest. We had none of us been there; but Miss Pole had an uncle who once had passed a night there, which was very pleasant.
Mrs Jamieson, meanwhile, was absorbed in wonder why Mr Mulliner did not bring the tea; and at length the wonder oozed64 out of her mouth.
"I had better ring the bell, my dear, had not I?" said Lady Glenmire briskly.
"No--I think not--Mulliner does not like to be hurried."
We should have liked our tea, for we dined at an earlier hour than Mrs Jamieson. I suspect Mr Mulliner had to finish the St James's Chronicle before he chose to trouble himself about tea. His mistress fidgeted and fidgeted, and kept saying, I can't think why Mulliner does not bring tea. I can't think what he can be about." And Lady Glenmire at last grew quite impatient, but it was a pretty kind of impatience65 after all; and she rang the bell rather sharply, on receiving a half-permission from her sister-in-law to do so. Mr Mulliner appeared in dignified66 surprise. "Oh!" said Mrs Jamieson, "Lady Glenmire rang the bell; I believe it was for tea."
In a few minutes tea was brought. Very delicate was the china, very old the plate, very thin the bread and butter, and very small the lumps of sugar. Sugar was evidently Mrs Jamieson's favourite economy. I question if the little filigree67 sugar-tongs, made something like scissors, could have opened themselves wide enough to take up an honest, vulgar good-sized piece; and when I tried to seize two little minnikin pieces at once, so as not to be detected in too many returns to the sugar-basin, they absolutely dropped one, with a little sharp clatter68, quite in a malicious69 and unnatural70 manner. But before this happened we had had a slight disappointment. In the little silver jug71 was cream, in the larger one was milk. As soon as Mr Mulliner came in, Carlo began to beg, which was a thing our manners forebade us to do, though I am sure we were just as hungry; and Mrs Jamieson said she was certain we would excuse her if she gave her poor dumb Carlo his tea first. She accordingly mixed a saucerful for him, and put it down for him to lap; and then she told us how intelligent and sensible the dear little fellow was; he knew cream quite well, and constantly refused tea with only milk in it: so the milk was left for us; but we silently thought we were quite as intelligent and sensible as Carlo, and felt as if insult were added to injury when we were called upon to admire the gratitude72 evinced by his wagging his tail for the cream which should have been ours.
After tea we thawed73 down into common-life subjects. We were thankful to Lady Glenmire for having proposed some more bread and butter, and this mutual74 want made us better acquainted with her than we should ever have been with talking about the Court, though Miss Pole did say she had hoped to know how the dear Queen was from some one who had seen her.
The friendship begun over bread and butter extended on to cards. Lady Glenmire played Preference to admiration, and was a complete authority as to Ombre and Quadrille. Even Miss Pole quite forgot to say "my lady," and "your ladyship," and said "Basto! ma'am"; "you have Spadille, I believe," just as quietly as if we had never held the great Cranford Parliament on the subject of the proper mode of addressing a peeress.
As a proof of how thoroughly75 we had forgotten that we were in the presence of one who might have sat down to tea with a coronet, instead of a cap, on her head, Mrs Forrester related a curious little fact to Lady Glenmire--an anecdote76 known to the circle of her intimate friends, but of which even Mrs Jamieson was not aware. It related to some fine old lace, the sole relic77 of better days, which Lady Glenmire was admiring on Mrs Forrester's collar.
"Yes," said that lady, "such lace cannot be got now for either love or money; made by the nuns78 abroad, they tell me. They say that they can't make it now even there. But perhaps they can, now they've passed the Catholic Emancipation79 Bill. I should not wonder. But, in the meantime, I treasure up my lace very much. I daren't even trust the washing of it to my maid" (the little charity school-girl I have named before, but who sounded well as "my maid"). "I always wash it myself. And once it had a narrow escape. Of course, your ladyship knows that such lace must never be starched80 or ironed. Some people wash it in sugar and water, and some in coffee, to make it the right yellow colour; but I myself have a very good receipt for washing it in milk, which stiffens81 it enough, and gives it a very good creamy colour. Well, ma'am, I had tacked82 it together (and the beauty of this fine lace is that, when it is wet, it goes into a very little space), and put it to soak in milk, when, unfortunately, I left the room; on my return, I found pussy83 on the table, looking very like a thief, but gulping84 very uncomfortably, as if she was half-chocked with something she wanted to swallow and could not. And, would you believe it? At first I pitied her, and said 'Poor pussy! poor pussy!' till, all at once, I looked and saw the cup of milk empty--cleaned out! 'You naughty cat!' said I, and I believe I was provoked enough to give her a slap, which did no good, but only helped the lace down--just as one slaps a choking child on the back. I could have cried, I was so vexed85; but I determined86 I would not give the lace up without a struggle for it. I hoped the lace might disagree with her, at any rate; but it would have been too much for Job, if he had seen, as I did, that cat come in, quite placid87 and purring, not a quarter of an hour after, and almost expecting to be stroked. 'No, pussy!' said I, 'if you have any conscience you ought not to expect that!' And then a thought struck me; and I rang the bell for my maid, and sent her to Mr Hoggins, with my compliments, and would he be kind enough to lend me one of his top-boots for an hour? I did not think there was anything odd in the message; but Jenny said the young men in the surgery laughed as if they would be ill at my wanting a top-boot. When it came, Jenny and I put pussy in, with her forefeet straight down, so that they were fastened, and could not scratch, and we gave her a teaspoonful88 of current-jelly in which (your ladyship must excuse me) I had mixed some tartar emetic89. I shall never forget how anxious I was for the next half- hour. I took pussy to my own room, and spread a clean towel on the floor. I could have kissed her when she returned the lace to sight, very much as it had gone down. Jenny had boiling water ready, and we soaked it and soaked it, and spread it on a lavender- bush in the sun before I could touch it again, even to put it in milk. But now your ladyship would never guess that it had been in pussy's inside."
We found out, in the course of the evening, that Lady Glenmire was going to pay Mrs Jamieson a long visit, as she had given up her apartments in Edinburgh, and had no ties to take her back there in a hurry. On the whole, we were rather glad to hear this, for she had made a pleasant impression upon us; and it was also very comfortable to find, from things which dropped out in the course of conversation, that, in addition to many other genteel qualities, she was far removed from the "vulgarity of wealth."
"Don't you find it very unpleasant walking?" asked Mrs Jamieson, as our respective servants were announced. It was a pretty regular question from Mrs Jamieson, who had her own carriage in the coach- house, and always went out in a sedan-chair to the very shortest distances. The answers were nearly as much a matter of course.
"Oh dear, no! it is so pleasant and still at night!" "Such a refreshment90 after the excitement of a party!" "The stars are so beautiful!" This last was from Miss Matty.
"Are you fond of astronomy?" Lady Glenmire asked.
"Not very," replied Miss Matty, rather confused at the moment to remember which was astronomy and which was astrology--but the answer was true under either circumstance, for she read, and was slightly alarmed at Francis Moore's astrological predictions; and, as to astronomy, in a private and confidential91 conversation, she had told me she never could believe that the earth was moving constantly, and that she would not believe it if she could, it made her feel so tired and dizzy whenever she thought about it.
In our pattens we picked our way home with extra care that night, so refined and delicate were our perceptions after drinking tea with "my lady."
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trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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alleged
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| a.被指控的，嫌疑的 | |
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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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perplexed
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eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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apathetic
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| adj.冷漠的，无动于衷的 | |
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insinuate
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| vt.含沙射影地说，暗示 | |
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honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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disapproving
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sarcastic
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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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baron
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| n.男爵；(商业界等)巨头，大王 | |
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soothe
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| v.安慰；使平静；使减轻；缓和；奉承 | |
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sedulously
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hush
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averted
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decided
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lighters
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legitimate
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countenance
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affected
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nay
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vex
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phlegmatic
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delicacies
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| n.棘手( delicacy的名词复数 )；精致；精美的食物；周到 | |
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remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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expenditure
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| n.(时间、劳力、金钱等)支出；使用，消耗 | |
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ostriches
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| n.鸵鸟( ostrich的名词复数 )；逃避现实的人，不愿正视现实者 | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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chaste
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| adj.贞洁的；有道德的；善良的；简朴的 | |
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elegance
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| n.优雅；优美，雅致；精致，巧妙 | |
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propriety
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| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
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prettily
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| adv.优美地；可爱地 | |
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memorable
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| adj.值得回忆的，难忘的，特别的，显著的 | |
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fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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negligently
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pebbles
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| [复数]鹅卵石； 沙砾； 卵石，小圆石( pebble的名词复数 ) | |
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ornamented
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| adj.花式字体的v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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housekeepers
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| n.（女）管家( housekeeper的名词复数 ) | |
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imposing
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| adj.使人难忘的，壮丽的，堂皇的，雄伟的 | |
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honourableness
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aggravating
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| adj.恼人的，讨厌的 | |
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tranquilly
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| adv. 宁静地 | |
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impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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awe
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| n.敬畏，惊惧；vt.使敬畏，使惊惧 | |
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condescension
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| n.自以为高人一等，贬低(别人) | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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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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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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dedicated
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| adj.一心一意的；献身的；热诚的 | |
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torpid
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| adj.麻痹的，麻木的，迟钝的 | |
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appraising
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| v.估价( appraise的现在分词 )；估计；估量；评价 | |
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prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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pretences
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| n.假装( pretence的名词复数 )；作假；自命；自称 | |
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triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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judiciously
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| adv.明断地，明智而审慎地 | |
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abrupt
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| adj.突然的，意外的；唐突的，鲁莽的 | |
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oozed
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的过去式和过去分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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dignified
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| a.可敬的，高贵的 | |
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filigree
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| n.金银丝做的工艺品；v.用金银细丝饰品装饰；用华而不实的饰品装饰；adj.金银细丝工艺的 | |
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clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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unnatural
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| adj.不自然的；反常的 | |
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jug
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| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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thawed
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| 解冻 | |
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mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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anecdote
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| n.轶事，趣闻，短故事 | |
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relic
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| n.神圣的遗物，遗迹，纪念物 | |
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nuns
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| n.（通常指基督教的）修女， （佛教的）尼姑( nun的名词复数 ) | |
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emancipation
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| n.（从束缚、支配下）解放 | |
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starched
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| adj.浆硬的，硬挺的，拘泥刻板的v.把（衣服、床单等）浆一浆( starch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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stiffens
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| （使）变硬，（使）强硬( stiffen的第三人称单数 ) | |
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tacked
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| 用平头钉钉( tack的过去式和过去分词 )； 附加，增补； 帆船抢风行驶，用粗线脚缝 | |
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pussy
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| n.(儿语)小猫，猫咪 | |
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gulping
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的现在分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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teaspoonful
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| n.一茶匙的量；一茶匙容量 | |
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emetic
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| n.催吐剂；adj.催吐的 | |
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refreshment
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| n.恢复，精神爽快，提神之事物；（复数）refreshments:点心，茶点 | |
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confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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