“My dear John,” cried Lucy, with a very wise look indeed, “it must and shall be so. As for Doughty5 Street, with our means, a house is out of the question. We must keep three servants, and Aunt Biggs says the taxes are one-and-twenty pounds a year.”
“I have seen a sweet place at Chelsea,” remarked John: “Paradise Row, No. 17,—garden—greenhouse—fifty pounds a year—omnibus to town within a mile.”
“What! that I may be left alone all day, and you spend a fortune in driving backward and forward in those horrid7 breakneck cabs? My darling, I should die there—die of fright, I know I should. Did you not say yourself that the road was not as yet lighted, and that the place swarmed8 with public-houses and dreadful tipsy Irish bricklayers? Would you kill me, John?”
“My da-arling,” said John, with tremendous fondness, clutching Miss Lucy suddenly round the waist, and rapping the hand of that young person violently against his waistcoat,—“My da-arling, don't say such things, even in a joke. If I objected to the chambers9, it is only because you, my love, with your birth and connections, ought to have a house of your own. The chambers are quite large enough and certainly quite good enough for me.” And so, after some more sweet parley10 on the part of these young people, it was agreed that they should take up their abode11, when married, in a part of the House number One hundred and something, Bedford Row.
It will be necessary to explain to the reader that John was no other than John Perkins, Esquire, of the Middle Temple, barrister-at-law, and that Miss Lucy was the daughter of the late Captain Gorgon, and Marianne Biggs, his wife. The Captain being of noble connections, younger son of a baronet, cousin to Lord X——, and related to the Y—— family, had angered all his relatives by marrying a very silly pretty young woman, who kept a ladies'-school at Canterbury. She had six hundred pounds to her fortune, which the Captain laid out in the purchase of a sweet travelling-carriage and dressing-case for himself; and going abroad with his lady, spent several years in the principal prisons of Europe, in one of which he died. His wife and daughter were meantime supported by the contributions of Mrs. Jemima Biggs, who still kept the ladies'-school.
At last a dear old relative—such a one as one reads of in romances—died and left seven thousand pounds apiece to the two sisters, whereupon the elder gave up schooling12 and retired13 to London; and the younger managed to live with some comfort and decency14 at Brussels, upon two hundred and ten pounds per annum. Mrs. Gorgon never touched a shilling of her capital, for the very good reason that it was placed entirely15 out of her reach; so that when she died, her daughter found herself in possession of a sum of money that is not always to be met with in this world.
Her aunt the baronet's lady, and her aunt the ex-schoolmistress, both wrote very pressing invitations to her, and she resided with each for six months after her arrival in England. Now, for a second time, she had come to Mrs. Biggs, Caroline Place, Mecklenburgh Square. It was under the roof of that respectable old lady that John Perkins, Esquire, being invited to take tea, wooed and won Miss Gorgon.
Having thus described the circumstances of Miss Gorgon's life, let us pass for a moment from that young lady, and lift up the veil of mystery which envelopes the deeds and character of Perkins.
Perkins, too, was an orphan16; and he and his Lucy, of summer evenings, when Sol descending17 lingered fondly yet about the minarets18 of the Foundling, and gilded19 the grassplots of Mecklenburgh Square—Perkins, I say, and Lucy would often sit together in the summer-house of that pleasure-ground, and muse20 upon the strange coincidences of their life. Lucy was motherless and fatherless; so too was Perkins. If Perkins was brotherless and sisterless, was not Lucy likewise an only child? Perkins was twenty-three: his age and Lucy's united, amounted to forty-six; and it was to be remarked, as a fact still more extraordinary, that while Lucy's relatives were AUNTS, John's were UNCLES. Mysterious spirit of love! let us treat thee with respect and whisper not too many of thy secrets. The fact is, John and Lucy were a pair of fools (as every young couple OUGHT to be who have hearts that are worth a farthing), and were ready to find coincidences, sympathies, hidden gushes21 of feeling, mystic unions of the soul, and what not, in every single circumstance that occurred from the rising of the sun to the going down thereof, and in the intervals22. Bedford Row, where Perkins lived, is not very far from Mecklenburgh Square; and John used to say that he felt a comfort that his house and Lucy's were served by the same muffin-man.
Further comment is needless. A more honest, simple, clever, warm-hearted, soft, whimsical, romantical, high-spirited young fellow than John Perkins did not exist. When his father, Doctor Perkins, died, this, his only son, was placed under the care of John Perkins, Esquire, of the house of Perkins, Scully, and Perkins, those celebrated23 attorneys in the trading town of Oldborough, which the second partner, William Pitt Scully, Esquire, represented in Parliament and in London.
All John's fortune was the house in Bedford Row, which, at his father's death, was let out into chambers, and brought in a clear hundred a year. Under his uncle's roof at Oldborough, where he lived with thirteen red-haired male and female cousins, he was only charged fifty pounds for board, clothes, and pocket-money, and the remainder of his rents was carefully put by for him until his majority. When he approached that period—when he came to belong to two spouting-clubs at Oldborough, among the young merchants and lawyers'-clerks—to blow the flute24 nicely, and play a good game at billiards—to have written one or two smart things in the Oldborough Sentinel—to be fond of smoking (in which act he was discovered by his fainting aunt at three o'clock one morning)—in one word, when John Perkins arrived at manhood, he discovered that he was quite unfit to be an attorney, that he detested25 all the ways of his uncle's stern, dull, vulgar, regular, red-headed family, and he vowed26 that he would go to London and make his fortune. Thither27 he went, his aunt and cousins, who were all “serious,” vowing28 that he was a lost boy; and when his history opens, John had been two years in the metropolis29, inhabiting his own garrets; and a very nice compact set of apartments, looking into the back-garden, at this moment falling vacant, the prudent30 Lucy Gorgon had visited them, and vowed that she and her John should there commence housekeeping.
All these explanations are tedious, but necessary; and furthermore, it must be said, that as John's uncle's partner was the Liberal member for Oldborough, so Lucy's uncle was its Ministerial representative.
This gentleman, the brother of the deceased Captain Gorgon, lived at the paternal31 mansion32 of Gorgon Castle, and rejoiced in the name and title of Sir George Grimsby Gorgon.
He, too, like his younger brother, had married a lady beneath his own rank in life; having espoused33 the daughter and heiress of Mr. Hicks, the great brewer34 at Oldborough, who held numerous mortgages on the Gorgon property, all of which he yielded up, together with his daughter Juliana, to the care of the baronet.
What Lady Gorgon was in character, this history will show. In person, if she may be compared to any vulgar animal, one of her father's heavy, healthy, broad-flanked, Roman-nosed white dray-horses might, to the poetic35 mind, appear to resemble her. At twenty she was a splendid creature, and though not at her full growth, yet remarkable36 for strength and sinew; at forty-five she was as fine a woman as any in His Majesty's dominions37. Five feet seven in height, thirteen stone, her own teeth and hair, she looked as if she were the mother of a regiment38 of Grenadier Guards. She had three daughters of her own size, and at length, ten years after the birth of the last of the young ladies, a son—one son—George Augustus Frederick Grimsby Gorgon, the godson of a royal duke, whose steady officer in waiting Sir George had been for many years.
It is needless to say, after entering so largely into a description of Lady Gorgon, that her husband was a little shrivelled wizen-faced creature, eight inches shorter than her Ladyship. This is the way of the world, as every single reader of this book must have remarked; for frolic love delights to join giants and pigmies of different sexes in the bonds of matrimony. When you saw her Ladyship in flame-coloured satin and gorgeous toque and feathers, entering the drawing-room, as footmen along the stairs shouted melodiously39, “Sir George and Lady Gorgon,” you beheld41 in her company a small withered42 old gentleman, with powder and large royal household buttons, who tripped at her elbow as a little weak-legged colt does at the side of a stout43 mare44.
The little General had been present at about a hundred and twenty pitched battles on Hounslow Heath and Wormwood Scrubs, but had never drawn45 his sword against an enemy. As might be expected, therefore, his talk and tenue were outrageously46 military. He had the whole Army List by heart—that is, as far as the field-officers: all below them he scorned. A bugle47 at Gorgon Castle always sounded at breakfast, and dinner: a gun announced sunset. He clung to his pigtail for many years after the army had forsaken48 that ornament49, and could never be brought to think much of the Peninsular men for giving it up. When he spoke50 of the Duke, he used to call him “MY LORD WELLINGTON—I RECOLLECT51 HIM AS CAPTAIN WELLESLEY.” He swore fearfully in conversation, was most regular at church, and regularly read to his family and domestics the morning and evening prayer; he bullied52 his daughters, seemed to bully53 his wife, who led him whither she chose; gave grand entertainments, and never asked a friend by chance; had splendid liveries, and starved his people; and was as dull, stingy, pompous54, insolent55, cringing56, ill-tempered a little creature as ever was known.
With such qualities you may fancy that he was generally admired in society and by his country. So he was: and I never knew a man so endowed whose way through life was not safe—who had fewer pangs57 of conscience—more positive enjoyments—more respect shown to him—more favours granted to him, than such a one as my friend the General.
Her Ladyship was just suited to him, and they did in reality admire each other hugely. Previously58 to her marriage with the baronet, many love-passages had passed between her and William Pitt Scully, Esquire, the attorney; and there was especially one story, a propos of certain syllabubs and Sally-Lunn cakes, which seemed to show that matters had gone very far. Be this as it may, no sooner did the General (Major Gorgon he was then) cast an eye on her, than Scully's five years' fabric59 of love was instantly dashed to the ground. She cut him pitilessly, cut Sally Scully, his sister, her dearest friend and confidante, and bestowed60 her big person upon the little aide-de-camp at the end of a fortnight's wooing. In the course of time their mutual61 fathers died; the Gorgon estates were unencumbered: patron of both the seats in the borough4 of Oldborough, and occupant of one, Sir George Grimsby Gorgon, Baronet, was a personage of no small importance.
He was, it scarcely need to be said, a Tory; and this was the reason why William Pitt Scully, Esquire, of the firm of Perkins and Scully, deserted62 those principles in which he had been bred and christened; deserted that church which he had frequented, for he could not bear to see Sir George and my Lady flaunting63 in their grand pew;—deserted, I say, the church, adopted the conventicle, and became one of the most zealous64 and eloquent65 supporters that Freedom has known in our time. Scully, of the house of Scully and Perkins, was a dangerous enemy. In five years from that marriage, which snatched from the jilted solicitor66 his heart's young affections, Sir George Gorgon found that he must actually spend seven hundred pounds to keep his two seats. At the next election, a Liberal was set up against his man, and actually ran him hard; and finally, at the end of eighteen years, the rejected Scully—the mean attorney—was actually the FIRST Member for Oldborough, Sir George Grimsby Gorgon, Baronet, being only the second!
The agony of that day cannot be imagined—the dreadful curses of Sir George, who saw fifteen hundred a year robbed from under his very nose—the religious resignation of my Lady—the hideous67 window-smashing that took place at the “Gorgon Arms,” and the discomfiture68 of the pelted69 Mayor and Corporation. The very next Sunday, Scully was reconciled to the church (or attended it in the morning, and the meeting twice in the afternoon), and as Doctor Snorter uttered the prayer for the High Court of Parliament, his eye, the eye of his whole party—turned towards Lady Gorgon and Sir George in a most unholy triumph. Sir George (who always stood during prayers, like a military man) fairly sank down among the hassocks, and Lady Gorgon was heard to sob70 as audibly as ever did little beadle-belaboured urchin71.
Scully, when at Oldborough, came from that day forth72 to church. “What,” said he, “was it to him? were we not all brethren?” Old Perkins, however, kept religiously to the Squaretoes congregation. In fact, to tell the truth, this subject had been debated between the partners, who saw the advantage of courting both the Establishment and the Dissenters—a manoeuvre73 which, I need not say, is repeated in almost every country town in England, where a solicitor's house has this kind of power and connection.
Three months after this election came the races at Oldborough, and the race-ball. Gorgon was so infuriated by his defeat, that he gave “the Gorgon cup and cover,” a matter of fifteen pounds. Scully, “although anxious,” as he wrote from town, “anxious beyond measure to preserve the breed of horses for which our beloved country has ever been famous, could attend no such sports as these, which but too often degenerated74 into vice75.” It was voted a shabby excuse. Lady Gorgon was radiant in her barouche and four, and gladly became the patroness of the ball that was to ensue; and which all the gentry76 and townspeople, Tory and Whig, were in the custom of attending. The ball took place on the last day of the races. On that day, the walls of the market-house, the principal public buildings, and the “Gorgon Arms Hotel” itself, were plastered with the following:—
“Letter from our distinguished77 representative, William P. Scully, Esquire, etc., etc.
“HOUSE OF COMMONS: June 1, 18—.
“MY DEAR HEELTAP,—You know my opinion about horseracing, and though I blame neither you nor any brother Englishman who enjoys that manly78 sport, you will, I am sure, appreciate the conscientious79 motives80 which induce me not to appear among my friends and constituents81 on the festival of the 3rd, 4th, and 5th instant. If I, however, cannot allow my name to appear among your list of stewards82, ONE at least of the representatives of Oldborough has no such scruples84. Sir George Gorgon is among you: and though I differ from that honourable85 Baronet on more than ONE VITAL POINT, I am glad to think that he is with you. A gentleman, a soldier, a man of property in the county, how can he be better employed than in forwarding the county's amusements, and in forwarding the happiness of all?
“Had I no such scruples as those to which I have just alluded86, I must still have refrained from coming among you. Your great Oldborough common-drainage and inclosure bill comes on to-morrow, and I shall be AT MY POST. I am sure, if Sir George Gorgon were here, he and I should on this occasion vote side by side, and that party strife87 would be forgotten in the object of our common interest—OUR DEAR NATIVE TOWN.
“There is, however, another occasion at hand, in which I shall be proud to meet him. Your ball is on the night of the 6th. Party forgotten—brotherly union—innocent mirth—beauty, OUR DEAR TOWN'S BEAUTY, our daughters in the joy of their expanding loveliness, our matrons in the exquisite88 contemplation of their children's bliss89—can you, can I, can Whig or Tory, can any Briton be indifferent to a scene like this, or refuse to join in this heart-stirring festival? If there BE such let them pardon me—I, for one, my dear Heeltap, will be among you on Friday night—ay, and hereby invite all pretty Tory Misses, who are in want of a partner.
“I am here in the very midst of good things, you know, and we old folks like A SUPPER after a dance. Please to accept a brace90 of bucks91 and a turtle, which come herewith. My worthy92 colleague, who was so liberal last year of his soup to the poor, will not, I trust, refuse to taste a little of Alderman Birch's—'tis offered on my part with hearty93 goodwill94. Hey for the 6th, and vive la joie!
“Ever, my dear Heeltap, your faithful
“W. PITT SCULLY.
“P.S.—Of course this letter is STRICTLY95 PRIVATE. Say that the venison, etc. came from a WELL-WISHER TO OLDBOROUGH.”
This amazing letter was published, in defiance96 of Mr. Scully's injunctions, by the enthusiastic Heeltap, who said, bluntly, in a preface, “that he saw no reason why Mr. Scully should be ashamed of his action, and he, for his part, was glad to let all friends at Oldborough know of it.”
The allusion97 about the Gorgon soup was killing98: thirteen paupers99 in Oldborough had, it was confidently asserted, died of it. Lady Gorgon, on the reading of this letter, was struck completely dumb; Sir George Gorgon was wild. Ten dozen of champagne100 was he obliged to send down to the “Gorgon Arms,” to be added to the festival. He would have stayed away if he could, but he dared not.
At nine o'clock, he in general's uniform; his wife in blue satin and diamonds; his daughters in blue crape and white roses; his niece, Lucy Gorgon, in white muslin; his son, George Augustus Frederick Grimsby Gorgon, in a blue velvet101 jacket, sugar-loaf buttons, and nankeens, entered the north door of the ballroom103, to much cheering, and the sound of “God save the King!”
At that very same moment, and from the south door, issued William Pitt Scully, Esquire, M.P., and his staff. Mr. Scully had a brand-new blue coat and brass104 buttons, buff waistcoat, white kerseymere tights, pumps with large rosettes, and pink silk stockings.
“This wool,” said he to a friend, “was grown on Oldborough sheep, this cloth was spun105 in Oldborough looms106, these buttons were cast in an Oldborough manufactory, these shoes were made by an Oldborough tradesman, this HEART first beat in Oldborough town, and pray Heaven may be buried there!”
Could anything resist a man like this? John Perkins, who had come down as one of Scully's aides-de-camp, in a fit of generous enthusiasm, leaped on a whist-table, flung up a pocket-handkerchief, and shrieked107—“SCULLY FOR EVER!”
Heeltap, who was generally drunk, fairly burst into tears, and the grave tradesmen and Whig gentry, who had dined with the Member at his inn, and accompanied him thence to the “Gorgon Arms,” lifted their deep voices and shouted “Hear!” “Good!” “Bravo!” “Noble!” “Scully for ever!” “God bless him!” and “Hurrah!”
The scene was tumultuously affecting; and when young Perkins sprang down from the table and came blushing up to the Member, that gentleman said, “Thank you, Jack102! THANK you, my boy! THANK you,” in a way which made Perkins think that his supreme108 cup of bliss was quaffed109; that he had but to die: for that life had no other such joy in store for him. Scully was Perkins's Napoleon—he yielded himself up to the attorney, body and soul.
Whilst this scene was going on under one chandelier of the ballroom, beneath the other scarlet110 little General Gorgon, sumptuous111 Lady Gorgon, the daughters and niece Gorgons, were standing112 surrounded by their Tory court, who affected113 to sneer114 and titter at the Whig demonstrations115 which were taking place.
“What a howwid thmell of whithkey!” lisped Cornet Fitch, of the Dragoons, to Miss Lucy, confidentially117. “And the—the are what they call Whigth, are they? He! he!”
“They are drunk, ——me, —drunk, by ——!” said the General to the Mayor.
“WHICH is Scully?” said Lady Gorgon, lifting her glass gravely (she was at that very moment thinking of the syllabubs). “Is it that tipsy man in the green coat, or that vulgar creature in the blue one?”
“Law, my Lady,” said the Mayoress, “have you forgotten him? Why, that's him in blue and buff.”
“And a monthous fine man, too,” said Cornet Fitch. “I wish we had him in our twoop—he'th thix feet thwee, if he'th an inch; ain't he, Genewal?”
No reply.
“And heavens! Mamma,” shrieked the three Gorgons in a breath, “see, one creature is on the whist-table. Oh, the wretch118!
“I'm sure he's very good-looking,” said Lucy, simply.
Lady Gorgon darted119 at her an angry look, and was about to say something very contemptuous, when, at that instant, John Perkins's shout taking effect, Master George Augustus Frederick Grimsby Gorgon, not knowing better, incontinently raised a small shout on his side.
“Hear! good! bravo!” exclaimed he; “Scully for ever! Hurra-a-a-ay!” and fell skipping about like the Whigs opposite.
“Silence, you brute120 you!” groaned121 Lady Gorgon; and seizing him by the shirt-frill and coat-collar, carried him away to his nurse, who, with many other maids of the Whig and Tory parties, stood giggling122 and peeping at the landing-place.
Fancy how all these small incidents augmented123 the heap of Lady Gorgon's anger and injuries! She was a dull phlegmatic124 woman for the most part, and contented125 herself generally with merely despising her neighbours; but oh! what a fine active hatred126 raged in her bosom127 for victorious128 Scully! At this moment Mr. Perkins had finished shaking hands with his Napoleon—Napoleon seemed bent129 upon some tremendous enterprise. He was looking at Lady Gorgon very hard.
“She's a fine woman,” said Scully, thoughtfully; he was still holding the hand of Perkins. And then, after a pause, “Gad! I think I'll try.”
“Try what, sir?”
“She's a DEUCED fine woman!” burst out again the tender solicitor. “I WILL go. Springer, tell the fiddlers to strike up.”
Springer scuttled130 across the room, and gave the leader of the band a knowing nod. Suddenly, “God save the King” ceased, and “Sir Roger de Coverley” began. The rival forces eyed each other; Mr. Scully, accompanied by his friend, came forward, looking very red, and fumbling131 two large kid gloves.
“HE'S GOING TO ASK ME TO DANCE,” hissed132 out Lady Gorgon, with a dreadful intuition, and she drew back behind her lord.
“D—— it, madam, THEN DANCE with him!” said the General. “Don't you see that the scoundrel is carrying it all his own way! —— him! and —— him! and —— him!” (All of which dashes the reader may fill up with oaths of such strength as may be requisite).
“General!” cried Lady Gorgon, but could say no more. Scully was before her.
“Madam!” exclaimed the Liberal Member for Oldborough, “in a moment like this—I say—that is—that on the present occasion—your Ladyship—unaccustomed as I am—pooh, psha—WILL your Ladyship give me the distinguished honour and pleasure of going down the country-dance with your Ladyship?”
An immense heave of her Ladyship's ample chest was perceptible. Yards of blond lace, which might be compared to a foam133 of the sea, were agitated134 at the same moment, and by the same mighty135 emotion. The river of diamonds which flowed round her Ladyship's neck, seemed to swell136 and to shine more than ever. The tall plumes137 on her ambrosial138 head bowed down beneath the storm. In other words, Lady Gorgon, in a furious rage, which she was compelled to restrain, trembled, drew up, and bowing majestically139, said,—
“Sir, I shall have much pleasure.” With this, she extended her hand. Scully, trembling, thrust forward one of his huge kid-gloves, and led her to the head of the country-dance. John Perkins—who I presume had been drinking pretty freely, so as to have forgotten his ordinary bashfulness—looked at the three Gorgons in blue, then at the pretty smiling one in white, and stepping up to her, without the smallest hesitation141, asked her if she would dance with him.
The young lady smilingly agreed. The great example of Scully and Lady Gorgon was followed by all dancing men and women. Political enmities were forgotten. Whig voters invited Tory voters' wives to the dance. The daughters of Reform accepted the hands of the sons of Conservatism. The reconciliation142 of the Romans and Sabines was not more touching143 than this sweet fusion144. Whack—whack! Springer clapped his hands; and the fiddlers adroitly145 obeying the cheerful signal, began playing “Sir Roger de Coverley” louder than ever.
I do not know by what extraordinary charm (nescio qua praeter solitum, etc.), but young Perkins, who all his life had hated country-dances, was delighted with this one, and skipped and laughed, poussetting, crossing, down-the-middling, with his merry little partner, till every one of the bettermost sort of the thirty-nine couples had dropped panting away, and till the youngest Miss Gorgon, coming up to his partner, said in a loud hissing146 scornful whisper, “Lucy, Mamma thinks you have danced quite enough with this—this person.” And Lucy, blushing, starting back, and looking at Perkins in a very melancholy147 way, made him a little curtsey, and went off to the Gorgonian party with her cousin. Perkins was too frightened to lead her back to her place—too frightened at first, and then too angry. “Person!” said he: his soul swelled148 with a desperate republicanism: he went back to his patron more of a Radical149 than ever.
He found that gentleman in the solitary150 tea-room, pacing up and down before the observant landlady151 and handmaidens of the “Gorgon Arms,” wiping his brows, gnawing152 his fingers—his ears looming153 over his stiff white shirt-collar as red as fire. Once more the great man seized John Perkins's hand as the latter came up.
“D—— the aristocrats154!” roared the ex-follower of Squaretoes.
“And so say I! but what's the matter, sir?”
“What's the matter?—Why, that woman—that infernal, haughty155, straitlaced, cold-blooded brewer's daughter! I loved that woman, sir—I KISSED that woman, sir, twenty years ago: we were all but engaged, sir: we've walked for hours and hours, sir—us and the governess—I've got a lock of her hair, sir, among my papers now; and to-night, would you believe it?—as soon as she got to the bottom of the set, away she went—not one word would she speak to me all the way down: and when I wanted to lead her to her place, and asked her if she would have a glass of negus, 'Sir,' says she, 'I have done my duty; I bear no malice156: but I consider you a traitor157 to Sir George Gorgon's family—a traitor and an upstart! I consider your speaking to me as a piece of insolent vulgarity, and beg you will leave me to myself!' There's her speech, sir. Twenty people heard it, and all of her Tory set too. I'll tell you what, Jack: at the next election I'll put YOU up. Oh that woman! that woman!—and to think that I love her still!” Here Mr. Scully paused, and fiercely consoled himself by swallowing three cups of Mrs. Rincer's green tea.
The fact is, that Lady Gorgon's passion had completely got the better of her reason. Her Ladyship was naturally cold, and artificially extremely squeamish; and when this great red-faced enemy of hers looked tenderly at her through his red little eyes, and squeezed her hand and attempted to renew old acquaintance, she felt such an intolerable disgust at his triumph, at his familiarity, and at the remembrance of her own former liking158 for him, that she gave utterance159 to the speech above correctly reported. The Tories were delighted with her spirit, and Cornet Fitch, with much glee, told the story to the General; but that officer, who was at whist with some of his friends, flung down his cards, and coming up to his lady, said briefly,—
“Madam, you are a fool!”
“I will NOT stay here to be bearded by that disgusting man!—Mr. Fitch, call my people.—Henrietta, bring Miss Lucy from that linendraper with whom she is dancing. I will not stay, General, once for all.”
Henrietta ran—she hated her cousin: Cornet Fitch was departing. “Stop, Fitch,” said Sir George, seizing him by the arm. “You are a fool, Lady Gorgon,” said he, “and I repeat it—a —— fool! This fellow Scully is carrying all before him: he has talked with everybody, laughed with everybody—and you, with your infernal airs—a brewer's daughter, by ——, must sit like a queen and not speak to a soul! You've lost me one seat of my borough, with your infernal pride—fifteen hundred a year, by Jove!—and you think you will bully me out of another. No, madam, you SHALL stay, and stay supper too;—and the girls shall dance with every cursed chimney-sweep and butcher in the room: they shall—confound me!”
Her Ladyship saw that it was necessary to submit; and Mr. Springer, the master of the ceremonies, was called, and requested to point out some eligible160 partners for the young ladies. One went off with a Whig auctioneer; another figured in a quadrille with a very Liberal apothecary161; and the third, Miss Henrietta, remained.
“Hallo you, sir!” roared the little General to John Perkins, who was passing by. John turned round and faced him.
“You were dancing with my niece just now—show us your skill now, and dance with one of my daughters. Stand up, Miss Henrietta Gorgon—Mr. What's-your-name?”
“My name,” said John, with marked and majestic140 emphasis, “is PERKINS.” And he looked towards Lucy, who dared not look again.
“Miss Gorgon—Mr. Perkins. There, now go and dance.”
“Mr. Perkins regrets, madam,” said John, making a bow to Miss Henrietta, “that he is not able to dance this evening. I am this moment obliged to look to the supper; but you will find, no doubt, some other PERSON who will have much pleasure.”
“Calm yourself, dearest George,” said Lady Gorgon, clinging fondly to him. Fitch twiddled his moustaches. Miss Henrietta Gorgon stared with open mouth. The silks of the surrounding dowagers rustled—the countenances163 of all looked grave.
“I will follow you, sir, wherever you please; and you may hear of me whenever you like,” said Mr. Perkins, bowing and retiring. He heard little Lucy sobbing164 in a corner. He was lost at once—lost in love; he felt as if he could combat fifty generals! he never was so happy in his life.
The supper came; but as that meal cost five shillings a head, General Gorgon dismissed the four spinsters of his family homewards in the carriage, and so saved himself a pound. This added to Jack Perkins's wrath165; he had hoped to have seen Miss Lucy once more. He was a steward83, and, in the General's teeth, would have done his duty. He was thinking how he would have helped her to the most delicate chicken-wings and blancmanges, how he WOULD have made her take champagne. Under the noses of indignant aunt and uncle, what glorious fun it would have been!
Out of place as Mr. Scully's present was, and though Lady Gorgon and her party sneered166 at the vulgar notion of venison and turtle for supper, all the world at Oldborough ate very greedily of those two substantial dishes; and the Mayor's wife became from that day forth a mortal enemy of the Gorgons: for, sitting near her Ladyship, who refused the proffered167 soup and meat, the Mayoress thought herself obliged to follow this disagreeable example. She sent away the plate of turtle with a sigh, saying, however, to the baronet's lady, “I thought, mem, that the LORD MAYOR OF LONDON always had turtle to his supper?”
“And what if he didn't, Biddy?” said his Honour the Mayor; “a good thing's a good thing, and here goes!” wherewith he plunged168 his spoon into the savoury mess. The Mayoress, as we have said, dared not; but she hated Lady Gorgon, and remembered it at the next election.
The pride, in fact, and insolence169 of the Gorgon party rendered every person in the room hostile to them; so soon as, gorged170 with meat, they began to find that courage which Britons invariably derive171 from their victuals172. The show of the Gorgon plate seemed to offend the people. The Gorgon champagne was a long time, too, in making its appearance. Arrive, however, it did. The people were waiting for it; the young ladies, not accustomed to that drink, declined pledging their admirers until it was produced; the men, too, despised the bucellas and sherry, and were looking continually towards the door. At last, Mr. Rincer, the landlord, Mr. Hock, Sir George's butler, and sundry173 others entered the room. Bang! went the corks—fizz the foamy174 liquor sparkled into all sorts of glasses that were held out for its reception. Mr. Hock helped Sir George and his party, who drank with great gusto; the wine which was administered to the persons immediately around Mr. Scully was likewise pronounced to be good. But Mr. Perkins, who had taken his seat among the humbler individuals, and in the very middle of the table, observed that all these persons, after drinking, made to each other very wry175 and ominous176 faces, and whispered much. He tasted his wine: it was a villanous compound of sugar, vitriol, soda-water, and green gooseberries. At this moment a great clatter177 of forks was made by the president's and vice-president's party. Silence for a toast—'twas silence all.
“Landlord,” said Mr. Perkins, starting up (the rogue178, where did his impudence179 come from?) “have you any champagne of YOUR OWN?”
“Silence! down!” roared the Tories, the ladies looking aghast. “Silence, sit down you!” shrieked the well-known voice of the General.
“I beg your pardon, General,” said young John Perkins; “but where COULD you have bought this champagne? My worthy friend I know is going to propose the ladies; let us at any rate drink such a toast in good wine.” (“Hear, hear!”) “Drink her Ladyship's health in THIS stuff? I declare to goodness I would sooner drink it in beer!”
No pen can describe the uproar180 which arose: the anguish181 of the Gorgonites—the shrieks182, jeers183, cheers, ironic184 cries of “Swipes!” etc., which proceeded from the less genteel but more enthusiastic Scullyites.
“This vulgarity is too much,” said Lady Gorgon, rising; and Mrs. Mayoress and the ladies of the party did so too.
The General, two squires185, the clergyman, the Gorgon apothecary and attorney, with their respective ladies, followed her: they were plainly beaten from the field. Such of the Tories as dared remained, and in inglorious compromise shared the jovial186 Whig feast.
“Gentlemen and ladies,” hiccupped Mr. Heeltap, “I'll give you a toast. 'Champagne to our real—hic—friends,' no, 'Real champagne to our friends,' and—hic—pooh! 'Champagne to our friends, and real pain to our enemies,'—huzzay!”
The Scully faction2 on this day bore the victory away, and if the polite reader has been shocked by certain vulgarities on the part of Mr. Scully and his friends, he must remember imprimis that Oldborough was an inconsiderable place—that the inhabitants thereof were chiefly tradespeople, not of refined habits—that Mr. Scully himself had only for three months mingled187 among the aristocracy—that his young friend Perkins was violently angry—and finally, and to conclude, that the proud vulgarity of the great Sir George Gorgon and his family was infinitely188 more odious40 and contemptible189 than the mean vulgarity of the Scullyites and their leader.
Immediately after this event, Mr. Scully and his young friend Perkins returned to town; the latter to his garrets in Bedford Row—the former to his apartments on the first floor of the same house. He lived here to superintend his legal business: his London agents, Messrs. Higgs, Biggs, and Blatherwick, occupying the ground floor; the junior partner, Mr. Gustavus Blatherwick, the second flat of the house. Scully made no secret of his profession or residence: he was an attorney, and proud of it; he was the grandson of a labourer, and thanked God for it; he had made his fortune by his own honest labour, and why should he be ashamed of it?
And now, having explained at full length who the several heroes and heroines of this history were, and how they conducted themselves in the country, let us describe their behaviour in London, and the great events which occurred there.
You must know that Mr. Perkins bore away the tenderest recollections of the young lady with whom he had danced at the Oldborough ball, and, having taken particular care to find out where she dwelt when in the metropolis, managed soon to become acquainted with Aunt Biggs, and made himself so amiable190 to that lady, that she begged he would pass all his disengaged evenings at her lodgings191 in Caroline Place. Mrs. Biggs was perfectly192 aware that the young gentleman did not come for her bohea and muffins, so much as for the sweeter conversation of her niece, Miss Gorgon; but seeing that these two young people were of an age when ideas of love and marriage will spring up, do what you will; seeing that her niece had a fortune, and Mr. Perkins had the prospect193 of a place, and was moreover a very amiable and well-disposed young fellow, she thought her niece could not do better than marry him; and Miss Gorgon thought so too. Now the public will be able to understand the meaning of that important conversation which is recorded at the very commencement of this history.
Lady Gorgon and her family were likewise in town; but, when in the metropolis, they never took notice of their relative, Miss Lucy: the idea of acknowledging an ex-schoolmistress living in Mecklenburgh Square being much too preposterous194 for a person of my Lady Gorgon's breeding and fashion. She did not, therefore, know of the progress which sly Perkins was making all this while; for Lucy Gorgon did not think it was at all necessary to inform her Ladyship how deeply she was smitten195 by the wicked young gentleman who had made all the disturbance196 at the Oldborough ball.
The intimacy197 of these young persons had, in fact, become so close, that on a certain sunshiny Sunday in December, after having accompanied Aunt Biggs to church, they had pursued their walk as far as that rendezvous198 of lovers, the Regent's Park, and were talking of their coming marriage, with much confidential116 tenderness, before the bears in the Zoological Gardens.
Miss Lucy was ever and anon feeding those interesting animals with buns, to perform which act of charity she had clambered up on the parapet which surrounds their den6. Mr. Perkins was below; and Miss Lucy, having distributed her buns, was on the point of following,—but whether from timidity, or whether from a desire to do young Perkins an essential service, I know not: however, she found herself quite unwilling199 to jump down unaided.
“My dearest John,” said she, “I never can jump that.”
Whereupon John stepped up, put one hand round Lucy's waist; and as one of hers gently fell upon his shoulder, Mr. Perkins took the other and said,—
“Now jump.”
Hoop200! jump she did, and so excessively active and clever was Mr. John Perkins, that he jumped Miss Lucy plump into the middle of a group formed of—
Lady Gorgon;
The Misses Gorgon;
Master George Augustus Frederick Grimsby Gorgon;
And a footman, poodle, and French governess: who had all been for two or three minutes listening to the billings and cooings of these imprudent young lovers.
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gorgon
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| n.丑陋女人，蛇发女怪 | |
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faction
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| n.宗派，小集团；派别；派系斗争 | |
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factions
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| 组织中的小派别，派系( faction的名词复数 ) | |
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borough
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| n.享有自治权的市镇；(英)自治市镇 | |
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doughty
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| adj.勇猛的，坚强的 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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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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chambers
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| n.房间( chamber的名词复数 )；（议会的）议院；卧室；会议厅 | |
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parley
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| n.谈判 | |
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abode
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| n.住处，住所 | |
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schooling
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| n.教育；正规学校教育 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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decency
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| n.体面，得体，合宜，正派，庄重 | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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minarets
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| n.（清真寺旁由报告祈祷时刻的人使用的）光塔( minaret的名词复数 ) | |
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gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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muse
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| n.缪斯（希腊神话中的女神），创作灵感 | |
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gushes
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| n.涌出，迸发( gush的名词复数 )v.喷，涌( gush的第三人称单数 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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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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celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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flute
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| n.长笛；v.吹笛 | |
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detested
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| v.憎恶，嫌恶，痛恨( detest的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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vowing
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| 起誓，发誓（vow的现在分词形式） | |
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metropolis
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| n.首府；大城市 | |
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prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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paternal
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| adj.父亲的，像父亲的，父系的，父方的 | |
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mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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espoused
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| v.（决定）支持，拥护（目标、主张等）( espouse的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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brewer
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| n. 啤酒制造者 | |
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poetic
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| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
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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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dominions
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| 统治权( dominion的名词复数 )； 领土； 疆土； 版图 | |
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regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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melodiously
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odious
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| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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outrageously
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| 凶残地； 肆无忌惮地； 令人不能容忍地； 不寻常地 | |
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bugle
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| n.军号，号角，喇叭；v.吹号，吹号召集 | |
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Forsaken
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| adj. 被遗忘的, 被抛弃的 动词forsake的过去分词 | |
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ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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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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recollect
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| v.回忆，想起，记起，忆起，记得 | |
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bullied
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| adj.被欺负了v.恐吓，威逼( bully的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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bully
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| n.恃强欺弱者，小流氓；vt.威胁，欺侮 | |
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pompous
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的；夸大的；豪华的 | |
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insolent
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| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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cringing
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| adj.谄媚，奉承 | |
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pangs
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| 突然的剧痛( pang的名词复数 )； 悲痛 | |
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previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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fabric
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| n.织物，织品，布；构造，结构，组织 | |
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bestowed
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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flaunting
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| adj.招摇的，扬扬得意的，夸耀的v.炫耀，夸耀( flaunt的现在分词 )；有什么能耐就施展出来 | |
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zealous
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| adj.狂热的，热心的 | |
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eloquent
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| adj.雄辩的，口才流利的；明白显示出的 | |
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solicitor
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| n.初级律师，事务律师 | |
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hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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discomfiture
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| n.崩溃；大败；挫败；困惑 | |
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pelted
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| （连续地）投掷( pelt的过去式和过去分词 )； 连续抨击； 攻击； 剥去…的皮 | |
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sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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urchin
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| n.顽童；海胆 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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manoeuvre
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| n.策略，调动；v.用策略，调动 | |
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degenerated
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| 衰退，堕落，退化( degenerate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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conscientious
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| adj.审慎正直的，认真的，本着良心的 | |
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motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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constituents
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| n.选民( constituent的名词复数 )；成分；构成部分；要素 | |
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stewards
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| （轮船、飞机等的）乘务员( steward的名词复数 )； （俱乐部、旅馆、工会等的）管理员； （大型活动的）组织者； （私人家中的）管家 | |
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steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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scruples
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| n.良心上的不安( scruple的名词复数 )；顾虑，顾忌v.感到于心不安，有顾忌( scruple的第三人称单数 ) | |
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honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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alluded
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| 提及，暗指( allude的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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strife
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| n.争吵，冲突，倾轧，竞争 | |
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88
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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brace
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| n. 支柱,曲柄,大括号; v. 绷紧,顶住,(为困难或坏事)做准备 | |
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bucks
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| n.雄鹿( buck的名词复数 )；钱；（英国十九世纪初的）花花公子；（用于某些表达方式）责任v.（马等）猛然弓背跃起( buck的第三人称单数 )；抵制；猛然震荡；马等尥起后蹄跳跃 | |
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92
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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93
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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94
goodwill
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| n.善意，亲善，信誉，声誉 | |
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95
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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96
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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97
allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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98
killing
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| n.巨额利润；突然赚大钱，发大财 | |
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99
paupers
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| n.穷人( pauper的名词复数 )；贫民；贫穷 | |
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100
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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101
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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102
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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103
ballroom
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| n.舞厅 | |
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104
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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105
spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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106
looms
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| n.织布机( loom的名词复数 )v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的第三人称单数 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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107
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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108
supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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109
quaffed
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| v.痛饮( quaff的过去式和过去分词 )；畅饮；大口大口将…喝干；一饮而尽 | |
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110
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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111
sumptuous
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| adj.豪华的，奢侈的，华丽的 | |
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112
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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113
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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114
sneer
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| v.轻蔑；嘲笑；n.嘲笑，讥讽的言语 | |
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115
demonstrations
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| 证明( demonstration的名词复数 )； 表明； 表达； 游行示威 | |
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116
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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117
confidentially
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| ad.秘密地，悄悄地 | |
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118
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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119
darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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120
brute
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| n.野兽，兽性 | |
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121
groaned
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| v.呻吟( groan的过去式和过去分词 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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122
giggling
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的现在分词 ) | |
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123
Augmented
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| adj.增音的 动词augment的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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124
phlegmatic
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| adj.冷静的，冷淡的，冷漠的，无活力的 | |
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125
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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126
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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127
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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128
victorious
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| adj.胜利的，得胜的 | |
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129
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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130
scuttled
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| v.使船沉没( scuttle的过去式和过去分词 )；快跑，急走 | |
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131
fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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132
hissed
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| 发嘶嘶声( hiss的过去式和过去分词 )； 发嘘声表示反对 | |
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133
foam
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| v./n.泡沫，起泡沫 | |
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134
agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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135
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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136
swell
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| vi.膨胀，肿胀；增长，增强 | |
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137
plumes
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| 羽毛( plume的名词复数 )； 羽毛饰； 羽毛状物； 升上空中的羽状物 | |
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138
ambrosial
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| adj.美味的 | |
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139
majestically
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| 雄伟地； 庄重地； 威严地； 崇高地 | |
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140
majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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141
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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142
reconciliation
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| n.和解，和谐，一致 | |
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143
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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144
fusion
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| n.溶化；熔解；熔化状态，熔和；熔接 | |
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145
adroitly
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| adv.熟练地，敏捷地 | |
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146
hissing
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| n. 发嘶嘶声, 蔑视 动词hiss的现在分词形式 | |
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147
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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148
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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149
radical
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| n.激进份子，原子团，根号；adj.根本的，激进的，彻底的 | |
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150
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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151
landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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152
gnawing
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| a.痛苦的，折磨人的 | |
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153
looming
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| n.上现蜃景（光通过低层大气发生异常折射形成的一种海市蜃楼）v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的现在分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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154
aristocrats
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| n.贵族( aristocrat的名词复数 ) | |
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155
haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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156
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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157
traitor
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| n.叛徒，卖国贼 | |
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158
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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159
utterance
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| n.用言语表达，话语，言语 | |
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160
eligible
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| adj.有条件被选中的；(尤指婚姻等)合适(意)的 | |
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161
apothecary
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| n.药剂师 | |
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162
cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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163
countenances
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| n.面容( countenance的名词复数 )；表情；镇静；道义支持 | |
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164
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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165
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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166
sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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167
proffered
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| v.提供，贡献，提出( proffer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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168
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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169
insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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170
gorged
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| v.（用食物把自己）塞饱，填饱( gorge的过去式和过去分词 )；作呕 | |
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171
derive
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| v.取得；导出；引申；来自；源自；出自 | |
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172
victuals
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| n.食物；食品 | |
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173
sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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174
foamy
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| adj.全是泡沫的，泡沫的，起泡沫的 | |
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175
wry
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| adj.讽刺的；扭曲的 | |
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176
ominous
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| adj.不祥的，不吉的，预兆的，预示的 | |
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177
clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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178
rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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179
impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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180
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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181
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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182
shrieks
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| n.尖叫声( shriek的名词复数 )v.尖叫( shriek的第三人称单数 ) | |
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183
jeers
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| n.操纵帆桁下部（使其上下的）索具；嘲讽( jeer的名词复数 )v.嘲笑( jeer的第三人称单数 ) | |
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184
ironic
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| adj.讽刺的，有讽刺意味的，出乎意料的 | |
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185
squires
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| n.地主，乡绅( squire的名词复数 ) | |
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186
jovial
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| adj.快乐的，好交际的 | |
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187
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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188
infinitely
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| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
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189
contemptible
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| adj.可鄙的，可轻视的，卑劣的 | |
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190
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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191
lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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192
perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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193
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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194
preposterous
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| adj.荒谬的，可笑的 | |
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195
smitten
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| 猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去分词 ) | |
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196
disturbance
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| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
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197
intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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198
rendezvous
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| n.约会，约会地点，汇合点；vi.汇合，集合；vt.使汇合，使在汇合地点相遇 | |
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199
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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200
hoop
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| n.（篮球）篮圈，篮 | |
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