"There! those look very nice, I think," she said, giving the last touch to a bowl full of beautiful garden roses. "How sweet they are!"
"Your young man seems rather clever about roses," remarked Phil, who, boy-like, dearly loved to tease his sister.
"My young man, as you call him, has a father with a gardener," replied Clover, calmly; "no very brilliant cleverness is required for that."
In a cordial, kindly6 place, like St. Helen's, people soon make acquaintances, and Clover and Phil felt as if they already knew half the people in the town. Every one had come to see them and deluged7 them with flowers, and invitations to dine, to drive, to take tea. Among the rest came Mr. Thurber Wade8, whom Phil was pleased to call Clover's young man,—the son of a rich New York banker, whose ill-health had brought him to live in St. Helen's, and who had built a handsome house on the principal street. This gilded9 youth had several times sent roses to Clover,—a fact which Phil had noticed, and upon which he was fond of commenting.
"Speaking of young men," went on Clover, "what do you suppose has become of Clarence Page? He said he should come in to see us soon; but that was ever so long ago."
"He's a fraud, I suspect," replied Phil, lazily, from his seat in the window. He had a geometry on his knees, and was supposed to be going on with his education, but in reality he was looking at the mountains. "I suppose people are pretty busy on ranches11, though," he added. "Perhaps they're sheep-shearing."
"Oh, it isn't a sheep ranch10. Don't you remember his saying that the cattle got very wild, and they had to ride after them? They wouldn't ride after sheep. I hope he hasn't forgotten about us. I was so glad to see him."
While this talk went on, Clarence was cantering down the lower end of the Ute Pass on his way to St. Helen's. Three hours later his name was brought up to them.
"How nice!" cried Clover. "I think as he's a relative we might let him come here, Phil. It's so much pleasanter than the parlor12."
Clarence, who had passed the interval13 of waiting in noting the different varieties of cough among the sick people in the parlor, was quite of her opinion.
"How jolly you look!" was almost his first remark. "I'm glad you've got a little place of your own, and don't have to sit with those poor creatures downstairs all the time."
"It is much nicer. Some of them are getting better, though."
"Some of them aren't. There's one poor fellow in a reclining-chair who looks badly."
"That's the one whose room Mrs. Watson has marked for her own. She asks him three times a day how he feels, with all the solicitude14 of a mother," said Phil.
"Who's Mrs. Watson?"
"Well, she's an old lady who is somehow fastened to us, and who considers herself our chaperone," replied Clover, with a little laugh. "I must introduce you by-and-by, but first we want a good talk all by ourselves. Now tell us why you haven't come to see us before. We have been hoping for you every day."
"Well, I've wanted to come badly enough, but there has been a combination of hindrances15. Two of our men got sick, so there was more to do than usual; then Geoff had to be away four days, and almost as soon as he got back he had bad news from home, and I hated to leave him alone."
"What sort of bad news?"
"His sister's dead."
"Poor fellow! In England too! You said he was English, didn't you?"
"Yes. She was married. Her husband was a clergyman down in Cornwall somewhere. She was older than Geoff a good deal; but he was very fond of her, and the news cut him up dreadfully."
"No wonder. It is horrible to hear such a thing when one is far from home," observed Clover. She tried to realize how she should feel if word came to St. Helen's of Katy's death, or Elsie's, or Johnnie's; but her mind refused to accept the question. The very idea made her shiver.
"Poor fellow!" she said again; "what could you do for him, Clarence?"
"Not much. I'm a poor hand at comforting any one,—men generally are, I guess. Geoff knows I'm sorry for him; but it takes a woman to say the right thing at such times. We sit and smoke when the work's done, and I know what he's thinking about; but we don't say anything to each other. Now let's speak of something else. I want to settle about your coming to High Valley."
"High Valley? Is that the name of your place?"
"Yes. I want you to see it. It's an awfully16 pretty place to my thinking,—not so very much higher than this, but you have to climb a good deal to get there. Can't you come? This is just the time,—raspberries ripe, and lots of flowers wherever the beasts don't get at them. Phil can have all the riding he wants, and it'll do poor Geoff lots of good to see some one."
"It would be very nice indeed," doubtfully; "but who could we get to go with us?"
"I thought of that. We don't take much stock in Mrs. Grundy out here; but I supposed you'd want another lady. How would it be if I asked Mrs. Hope? The doctor's got to come out anyway to see one of our herders who's put his shoulder out in a fall. If he would drive you out, and Mrs. Hope would stay on, would you come for a week? I guess you'll like it."
"I 'guess' we should," exclaimed Clover, her face lighting18 up. "Clarence, how delightful19 it sounds! It will be lovely to come if Mrs. Hope says yes."
"Then that's all right," replied Clarence, looking extremely pleased. "I'll ride up to the doctor's as soon as dinner's over."
"You'll dine with us, of course?"
"Oh, I always come to Mother Marsh20 for a bite whenever I stay over the day. She likes to have me. We've been great chums ever since I had fever here, and she took care of me."
Clover was amused at dinner to watch the cool deliberation with which Clarence studied Mrs. Watson and her tortuous21 conversation, and, as he would have expressed it, "took stock of her." The result was not favorable, apparently22.
"What on earth did they send that old thing with you for?" he asked as soon as they went upstairs. "She's as much out of her element here as a canary-bird would be in a cyclone23. She can't be any use to you, Clover."
"Well, no; I don't think she is. It was a sort of mistake; I'll tell you about it sometime. But she likes to imagine that she's taking care of me; and as it does no harm, I let her."
"Taking care of you! Great thunder! I wouldn't trust her to take care of a blue-eyed kitten," observed the irreverent Clarence. "Well, I'll ride up and settle with the Hopes, and stop and let you know as I come back."
Mrs. Hope and the doctor were not hard to persuade. In Colorado, people keep their lamps of enjoyment24 filled and trimmed, so to speak, and their travelling energies ready girt about them, and easily adopt any plan which promises pleasure. The following day was fixed25 for the start, and Clover packed her valise and Phil's bag, with a sense of exhilaration and escape. She was, in truth, getting very tired of the exactions of Mrs. Watson. Mrs. Watson, on her part, did not at all approve of the excursion.
"I think," she said, swelling26 with offended dignity, "that your cousin didn't know much about politeness when he left me out of his invitation and asked Mrs. Hope instead. Yes, I know; the doctor had to go up anyway. That may be true, and it may not; but it doesn't alter the case. What am I to do, I should like to know, if the valves of my heart don't open, or don't shut—whichever it is—while I'm left all alone here among strangers?"
"Send for Dr. Hope," suggested Phil. "He'll only be gone one night. Clover doesn't know anything about valves."
"My cousin lives in a rather rough way, I imagine," interposed Clover, with a reproving look at Phil. "He would hardly like to ask a stranger and an invalid27 to his house, when he might not be able to make her comfortable. Mrs. Hope has been there before, and she's an old friend."
"Oh, I dare say! There are always reasons. I don't say that I should have felt like going, but he ought to have asked me. Ellen will be surprised, and so will—He's from Ashburn too, and he must know the Parmenters, and Mrs. Parmenter's brother's son is partner to Henry's brother-in-law. It's of no consequence, of course,—still, respect—older people—Boston—not used to—Phillips—" Mrs. Watson's voice died away into fragmentary and inaudible lamentings.
Clover attempted no further excuse. Her good sense told her that she had a perfect right to accept this little pleasure; that Mrs. Watson's plans for Western travel had been formed quite independently of their own, and that papa would not wish her to sacrifice herself and Phil to such unreasonable29 humors. Still, it was not pleasant; and I am sorry to say that from this time dated a change of feeling on Mrs. Watson's part toward her "young friends." She took up a chronic30 position of grievance31 toward them, confided32 her wrongs to all new-comers, and met Clover with an offended air which, though Clover ignored it, did not add to the happiness of her life at Mrs. Marsh's.
It was early in the afternoon when they started, and the sun was just dipping behind the mountain wall when they drove into the High Valley. It was one of those natural parks, four miles long, which lie like heaven-planted gardens among the Colorado ranges. The richest of grass clothed it; fine trees grew in clumps33 and clusters here and there; and the spaces about the house where fences of barbed wire defended the grass from the cattle, seemed a carpet of wild-flowers.
Clover exclaimed with delight at the view. The ranges which lapped and held the high, sheltered upland in embrace opened toward the south, and revealed a splendid lonely peak, on whose summit a drift of freshly-fallen snow was lying. The contrast with the verdure and bloom below was charming.
The cabin—it was little more—stood facing this view, and was backed by a group of noble red cedars34. It was built of logs, long and low, with a rude porch in front supported on unbarked tree trunks. Two fine collies rushed to meet them, barking vociferously35; and at the sound Clarence hurried to the door. He met them with great enthusiasm, lifted out Mrs. Hope, then Clover, and then began shouting for his chum, who was inside.
"Hollo, Geoff! where are you? Hurry up; they've come." Then, as he appeared, "Ladies and gentleman, my partner!"
Geoffrey Templestowe was a tall, sinewy36 young Englishman, with ruddy hair and beard, grave blue eyes, and an unmistakable air of good breeding. He wore a blue flannel37 shirt and high boots like Clarence's, yet somehow he made Clarence look a little rough and undistinguished. He was quiet in speech, reserved in manner, and seemed depressed38 and under a cloud; but Clover liked his face at once. He looked both strong and kind, she thought.
The house consisted of one large square room in the middle, which served as parlor and dining-room both, and on either side two bedrooms. The kitchen was in a separate building. There was no lack of comfort, though things were rather rude, and the place had a bare, masculine look. The floor was strewn with coyote and fox skins. Two or three easy-chairs stood around the fireplace, in which, July as it was, a big log was blazing. Their covers were shabby and worn; but they looked comfortable, and were evidently in constant use. There was not the least attempt at prettiness anywhere. Pipes and books and old newspapers littered the chairs and tables; when an extra seat was needed Clarence simply tipped a great pile of these on to the floor. A gun-rack hung upon the wall, together with sundry39 long stock-whips and two or three pairs of spurs, and a smell of tobacco pervaded40 the place.
Clover's eyes wandered to a corner where stood a small parlor organ, and over it a shelf of books. She rose to examine them. To her surprise they were all hymnals and Church of England prayer-books. There were no others. She wondered what it meant.
Clarence had given up his own bedroom to Phil, and was to chum with his friend. Some little attempt had been made to adorn41 the rooms which were meant for the ladies. Clean towels had been spread over the pine shelves which did duty for dressing42-tables, and on each stood a tumbler stuffed as full as it could hold with purple pentstemons. Clover could not help laughing, yet there was something pathetic to her in the clumsy, man-like arrangement. She relieved the tumbler by putting a few of the flowers in her dress, and went out again to the parlor, where Mrs. Hope sat by the fire, quizzing the two partners, who were hard at work setting their tea-table.
It was rather a droll43 spectacle,—the two muscular young fellows creaking to and fro in their heavy boots, and taking such an infinitude of pains with their operations. One would set a plate on the table, and the other would forthwith alter its position slightly, or lift and scrutinize44 a tumbler and dust it sedulously45 with a glass-towel. Each spoon was polished with the greatest particularity before it was laid on the tray; each knife passed under inspection46. Visitors were not an every-day luxury in the High Valley, and too much care could not be taken for their entertainment, it seemed.
Supper was brought in by a Chinese cook in a pigtail, wooden shoes, and a blue Mother Hubbard, Choo Loo by name. He was evidently a good cook, for the corn-bread and fresh mountain trout47 and the ham and eggs were savory48 to the last degree, and the flapjacks, with which the meal concluded, and which were eaten with a sauce of melted raspberry jelly, deserved even higher encomium50.
"We are willing to be treated as company this first night," observed Mrs. Hope; "but if you are going to keep us a week, you must let us make ourselves useful, and set the table and arrange the rooms for you."
"We will begin to-morrow morning," added Clover. "May we, Clarence? May we play that it is our house, and do what we like, and change about and arrange things? It will be such fun."
"Fire away!" said her cousin, calmly. "The more you change the more we shall like it. Geoff and I aren't set in our ways, and are glad enough to be let off duty for a week. The hut is yours just as long as you will stay; do just what you like with it. Though we're pretty good housekeepers51 too, considering; don't you think so?"
"Do you believe he meant it?" asked Clover, confidentially52 afterward53 of Mrs. Hope. "Do you think they really wouldn't mind being tidied up a little? I should so like to give that room a good dusting, if it wouldn't vex54 them."
"My dear, they will probably never know the difference except by a vague sense of improved comfort. Men are dreadfully untidy, as a general thing, when left to themselves; but they like very well to have other people make things neat."
"Mr. Templestowe told Phil that they go off early in the morning and don't come back till breakfast at half-past seven; so if I wake early enough I shall try to do a little setting to rights before they come in."
"And I'll come and help if I don't over-sleep," declared Mrs. Hope; "but this air makes me feel dreadfully as if I should."
"I sha'n't call you," said Clover; "but it will be nice to have you, if you come."
She stood at her window after Mrs. Hope had gone, for a last look at the peak which glittered sharply in the light of the moon. The air was like scented55 wine. She drew a long breath.
"How lovely it is!" she said to herself, and kissed her hand to the mountain. "Good-night, you beautiful thing."
She woke with the first beam of yellow sun, after eight hours of dreamless sleep, with a keen sense of renovation56 and refreshment57. A great splashing was going on in the opposite wing, and manly58 voices hushed to suppressed tones were audible. Then came a sound of boots on the porch; and peeping from behind her curtain, she saw Clarence and his friend striding across the grass in the direction of the stock-huts. She glanced at her watch. It was a quarter past five.
"Now is my chance," she thought; and dressing rapidly, she put on a little cambric jacket, knotted her hair up, tied a handkerchief over it, and hurried into the sitting-room. Her first act was to throw open all the windows to let out the smell of stale tobacco, her next to hunt for a broom. She found one at last, hanging on the door of a sort of store-closet, and moving the furniture as noiselessly as she could, she gave the room a rapid but effectual sweeping59.
While the dust settled, she stole out to a place on the hillside where the night before she had noticed some mariposa lilies growing, and gathered a large bunch. Then she proceeded to dust and straighten, sorted out the newspapers, wiped the woodwork with a damp cloth, arranged the disorderly books, and set the breakfast-table. When all this was done, there was still time to finish her toilet and put her pretty hair in its accustomed coils and waves; so that Clarence and Mr. Templestowe came in to find the fire blazing, the room bright and neat, Mrs. Hope sitting at the table in a pretty violet gingham ready to pour the coffee which Choo Loo had brought in, and Clover, the good fairy of this transformation60 scene, in a fresh blue muslin, with a ribbon to match in her hair, just setting the mariposas in the middle of the table. Their lilac-streaked bells nodded from a tall vase of ground glass.
"Oh, I say," cried Clarence, "this is something like! Isn't it scrumptious, Geoff? The hut never looked like this before. It's wonderful what a woman—no, two women," with a bow to Mrs. Hope—"can do toward making things pleasant. Where did that vase come from, Clover? We never owned anything so fine as that, I'm sure."
"It came from my bag; and it's a present for you and Mr. Templestowe. I saw it in a shop-window yesterday; and it occurred to me that it might be just the thing for High Valley, and fill a gap. And Mrs. Hope has brought you each a pretty coffee-cup."
It was a merry meal. The pleasant look of the room, the little surprises, and the refreshment of seeing new and kindly faces, raised Mr. Templestowe's spirits, and warmed him out of his reserve. He grew cheerful and friendly. Clarence was in uproarious spirits, and Phil even worse. It seemed as if the air of the High Valley had got into his head.
Dr. Hope left at noon, after making a second visit to the lame28 herder, and Mrs. Hope and Clover settled themselves for a week of enjoyment. They were alone for hours every day, while their young hosts were off on the ranch, and they devoted61 part of this time to various useful and decorative62 arts. They took all manner of liberties, poked63 about and rummaged64, mended, sponged, assorted65, and felt themselves completely mistresses of the situation. A note to Marian Chase brought up a big parcel by stage to the Ute Valley, four miles away, from which it was fetched over by a cow-boy on horseback; and Clover worked away busily at scrim curtains for the windows, while Mrs. Hope shaped a slip cover of gay chintz for the shabbiest of the armchairs, hemmed66 a great square of gold-colored canton flannel for the bare, unsightly table, and made a bright red pincushion apiece for the bachelor quarters. The sitting-room took on quite a new aspect, and every added touch gave immense satisfaction to "the boys," as Mrs. Hope called them, who thoroughly67 enjoyed the effect of these ministrations, though they had not the least idea how to produce it themselves.
Creature comforts were not forgotten. The two ladies amused themselves with experiments in cookery. The herders brought a basket of wild raspberries, and Clover turned them into jam for winter use. Clarence gloated over the little white pots, and was never tired of counting them. They looked so like New England, he declared, that he felt as if he must get a girl at once, and go and walk in the graveyard,—a pastime which he remembered as universal in his native town. Various cakes and puddings appeared to attest68 the industry of the housekeepers; and on the only wet evening, when a wild thunder-gust was sweeping down the valley, they had a wonderful candy-pull, and made enough to give all the cow-boys a treat.
It must not be supposed that all their time went in these domestic pursuits. No, indeed. Mrs. Hope had brought her own side-saddle, and had borrowed one for Clover; the place was full of horses, and not a day passed without a long ride up or down the valley, and into the charming little side canyons69 which opened from it. A spirited broncho, named Sorrel, had been made over to Phil's use for the time of his stay, and he was never out of the saddle when he could help it, except to eat and sleep. He shared in the herders' wild gallops70 after stock, and though Clover felt nervous about the risks he ran, whenever she took time to think them over, he was so very happy that she had not the heart to interfere71 or check his pleasure.
She and Mrs. Hope rode out with the gentlemen on the great day of the round-up, and, stationed at a safe point a little way up the hillside, watched the spectacle,—the plunging72, excited herd17, the cow-boys madly galloping73, swinging their long whips and lassos, darting74 to and fro to head off refractory75 beasts or check the tendency to stampede. Both Clarence and Geoffrey Templestowe were bold and expert riders; but the Mexican and Texan herders in their employ far surpassed them. The ladies had never seen anything like it. Phil and his broncho were in the midst of things, of course, and had one or two tumbles, but nothing to hurt them; only Clover was very thankful when it was all safely over.
In their rides and scrambling76 walks it generally happened that Clarence took possession of Clover, and left Geoff in charge of Mrs. Hope. Cousinship and old friendship gave him a right, he considered, and he certainly took full advantage of it. Clover liked Clarence; but there were moments when she felt that she would rather enjoy the chance to talk more with Mr. Templestowe, and there was a look in his eyes now and then which seemed to say that he might enjoy it too. But Clarence did not observe this look, and he had no idea of sharing his favorite cousin with any one, if he could help it.
Sunday brought the explanation of the shelf full of prayer-books which had puzzled them on their first arrival. There was no church within reach; and it was Geoff's regular custom, it seemed, to hold a little service for the men in the valley. Almost all of them came, except the few Mexicans, who were Roman Catholics, and the room was quite full. Geoff read the service well and reverently77, gave out the hymns78, and played the accompaniments for them, closing with a brief bit of a sermon by the elder Arnold. It was all done simply and as a matter of course, and Clarence seemed to join in it with much good-will; but Clover privately79 wondered whether the idea of doing such a thing would have entered into his head had he been left alone, or, if so, whether he would have cared enough about it to carry it out regularly. She doubted. Whatever the shortcomings of the Church of England may be, she certainly trains her children into a devout80 observance of Sunday.
The next day, Monday, was to be their last,—a fact lamented81 by every one, particularly Phil, who regarded the High Valley as a paradise, and would gladly have remained there for the rest of his natural life. Clover hated to take him away; but Dr. Hope had warned her privately that a week would be enough of it, and that with Phil's tendency to overdo82, too long a stay would be undesirable83. So she stood firm, though Clarence urged a delay, and Phil seconded the proposal with all his might.
The very pleasantest moment of the visit perhaps came on that last afternoon, when Geoff got her to himself for once, and took her up a trail where she had not yet been, in search of scarlet84 pentstemons to carry back to St. Helen's. They found great sheaves of the slender stems threaded, as it were, with jewel-like blossoms; but what was better still, they had a talk, and Clover felt that she had now a new friend. Geoff told her of his people at home, and a little about the sister who had lately died; only a little,—he could not yet trust himself to talk long about her. Clover listened with frank and gentle interest. She liked to hear about the old grange at the head of a chine above Clovelley, where Geoff was born, and which had once been full of boys and girls, now scattered85 in the English fashion to all parts of the world. There was Ralph with his regiment86 in India,—he was the heir, it seemed,—and Jim and Jack49 in Australia, and Oliver with his wife and children in New Zealand, and Allen at Harrow, and another boy fitting for the civil service. There was a married sister in Scotland, and another in London; and Isabel, the youngest of all, still at home,—the light of the house, and the special pet of the old squire87 and of Geoff's mother, who, he told Clover, had been a great beauty in her youth, and though nearly seventy, was in his eyes beautiful still.
"It's pretty quiet there for Isabel," he said; "but she has my sister Helen's two children to care for, and that will keep her busy. I used to think she'd come out to me one of these years for a twelvemonth; but there's little chance of her being spared now."
Clover's sympathy did not take the form of words. It looked out of her eyes, and spoke88 in the hushed tones of her soft voice. Geoff felt that it was there, and it comforted him. The poor fellow was very lonely in those days, and inclined to be homesick, as even a manly man sometimes is.
"What an awful time Adam must have had of it before Eve came!" growled89 Clarence, that evening, as they sat around the fire.
"He had a pretty bad time after she came, if I remember," said Clover, laughing.
"Ah, but he had her!"
"Stuff and nonsense! He was a long shot happier without her and her old apple, I think," put in Phil. "You fellows don't know when you're well off."
Everybody laughed.
"Phil's notion of Paradise is the High Valley and Sorrel, and no girls about to bother and tell him not to get too tired," remarked Clover. "It's a fair vision; but like all fair visions it must end."
And end it did next day, when Dr. Hope appeared with the carriage, and the bags and saddles were put in, and the great bundle of wild-flowers, with their stems tied in wet moss90; and Phil, torn from his beloved broncho, on whose back he had passed so many happy hours, was forced to accompany the others back to civilization.
"I shall see you very soon," said Clarence, tucking the lap-robe round Clover. "There's the mail to fetch, and other things. I shall be riding in every day or two."
"I shall see you very soon," said Geoff, on the other side. "Clarence is not coming without me, I can assure you."
Then the carriage drove away; and the two partners went back into the house, which looked suddenly empty and deserted91.
"I'll tell you what!" began Clarence.
"And I'll tell you what!" rejoined Geoff.
"A house isn't worth a red cent which hasn't a woman in it."
"You might ride down and ask Miss Perkins to step up and adorn our lives," said his friend, grimly. Miss Perkins was a particularly rigid92 spinster who taught a school six miles distant, and for whom Clarence entertained a particular distaste.
"You be hanged! I don't mean that kind. I mean—"
"The nice kind, like Mrs. Hope and your cousin. Well, I'm agreed."
"So shall I."
"All right; come along!" But though the words sounded hearty94, the tone rather belied95 them. Clarence was a little puzzled by and did not quite like this newborn enthusiasm on the part of his comrade.
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chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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sitting-room
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| n.（BrE）客厅，起居室 | |
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unpacked
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| v.从（包裹等）中取出（所装的东西），打开行李取出( unpack的过去式和过去分词 )；拆包；解除…的负担；吐露（心事等） | |
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ruffled
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| adj. 有褶饰边的, 起皱的 动词ruffle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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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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deluged
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| v.使淹没( deluge的过去式和过去分词 )；淹没；被洪水般涌来的事物所淹没；穷于应付 | |
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wade
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| v.跋涉，涉水；n.跋涉 | |
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gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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ranch
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| n.大牧场，大农场 | |
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ranches
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| 大农场， （兼种果树，养鸡等的）大牧场( ranch的名词复数 ) | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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solicitude
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| n.焦虑 | |
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hindrances
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| 阻碍者( hindrance的名词复数 )； 障碍物； 受到妨碍的状态 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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marsh
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| n.沼泽，湿地 | |
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21
tortuous
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| adj.弯弯曲曲的，蜿蜒的 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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cyclone
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| n.旋风，龙卷风 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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25
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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26
swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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29
unreasonable
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| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
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chronic
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| adj.(疾病)长期未愈的，慢性的；极坏的 | |
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grievance
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| n.怨愤，气恼，委屈 | |
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confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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clumps
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| n.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的名词复数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声v.（树、灌木、植物等的）丛、簇( clump的第三人称单数 )；（土、泥等）团；块；笨重的脚步声 | |
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34
cedars
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| 雪松，西洋杉( cedar的名词复数 ) | |
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vociferously
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| adv.喊叫地，吵闹地 | |
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sinewy
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| adj.多腱的，强壮有力的 | |
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flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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depressed
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| adj.沮丧的，抑郁的，不景气的，萧条的 | |
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sundry
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| adj.各式各样的，种种的 | |
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pervaded
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| v.遍及，弥漫( pervade的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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adorn
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| vt.使美化，装饰 | |
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42
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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droll
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| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
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scrutinize
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| n.详细检查，细读 | |
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sedulously
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| ad.孜孜不倦地 | |
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46
inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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47
trout
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| n.鳟鱼；鲑鱼(属) | |
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savory
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| adj.风味极佳的，可口的，味香的 | |
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jack
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| n.插座，千斤顶，男人；v.抬起，提醒，扛举；n.（Jake）杰克 | |
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50
encomium
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| n.赞颂；颂词 | |
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51
housekeepers
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| n.（女）管家( housekeeper的名词复数 ) | |
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confidentially
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| ad.秘密地，悄悄地 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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vex
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| vt.使烦恼，使苦恼 | |
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scented
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| adj.有香味的；洒香水的；有气味的v.嗅到(scent的过去分词) | |
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renovation
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| n.革新，整修 | |
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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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manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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sweeping
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| adj.范围广大的，一扫无遗的 | |
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transformation
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| n.变化；改造；转变 | |
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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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decorative
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| adj.装饰的，可作装饰的 | |
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poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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rummaged
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| 翻找，搜寻( rummage的过去式和过去分词 )； 已经海关检查 | |
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assorted
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| adj.各种各样的，各色俱备的 | |
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hemmed
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| 缝…的褶边( hem的过去式和过去分词 )； 包围 | |
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thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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attest
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| vt.证明，证实；表明 | |
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canyons
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| n.峡谷( canyon的名词复数 ) | |
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gallops
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| （马等）奔驰，骑马奔驰( gallop的名词复数 ) | |
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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galloping
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| adj. 飞驰的, 急性的 动词gallop的现在分词形式 | |
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darting
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的现在分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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refractory
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| adj.倔强的，难驾驭的 | |
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scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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reverently
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| adv.虔诚地 | |
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78
hymns
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌( hymn的名词复数 ) | |
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privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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devout
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| adj.虔诚的，虔敬的，衷心的 (n.devoutness) | |
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81
lamented
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| adj.被哀悼的，令人遗憾的v.（为…）哀悼，痛哭，悲伤( lament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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82
overdo
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| vt.把...做得过头，演得过火 | |
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83
undesirable
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| adj.不受欢迎的，不良的，不合意的，讨厌的；n.不受欢迎的人，不良分子 | |
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84
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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86
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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87
squire
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| n.护卫, 侍从, 乡绅 | |
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88
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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89
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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90
moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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91
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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puffs
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| n.吸( puff的名词复数 )；（烟斗或香烟的）一吸；一缕（烟、蒸汽等）；（呼吸或风的）呼v.使喷出( puff的第三人称单数 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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belied
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| v.掩饰( belie的过去式和过去分词 )；证明（或显示）…为虚假；辜负；就…扯谎 | |
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