In every sense of the word Bridget was unexpected. She had an extraordinary aptitude4 for arithmetic, and took a high place in the school on account of her mathematics. The word mathematics, however, she had never even heard before. She could gabble French as fluently as a native, but did not know a word of the grammar. She had a perfect ear for music, could sing like a bird, and play any air she once heard, but she could scarcely read music at all, and was refractory5 and troublesome when asked to learn notes.
"Just play the piece over to me," she said to her master. "I'll do it if you play it over. Yes, that's it—tum, tum, tummy, tum, tum. Oughtn't you to crash the air out a bit there? I think you ought. Yes, that's it—isn't it lovely? Now let me try."
Her attempts were extremely good, but when it came to laboriously6 struggling through her written score, all was hopeless confusion, tears, and despair.
With each fresh study Bridget showed the queer[Pg 36] vagaries7 of a really clever mind run more or less to seed. She did everything in a dramatic, excitable style—she was all on wires, scarcely ever still, laughing one moment, weeping the next; the school had never known such a time as it underwent during the first week of her residence among them.
After that period she found her place to a certain extent, made some violent friends and some active enemies, was adored by the little girls, on whom she showered lollipops8, kisses, and secrets, and was disliked more or less by every girl in the sixth and fifth form, Dorothy Collingwood excepted.
All this time Miss Percival, the head girl of the school, was absent. She had been ill, and had gone home for a short change. She did not return until Bridget had been at the Court a fortnight.
By this time the preparations for the Fancy Fair were in active progress. Janet May had obtained her own wish with regard to the Committee, each member of which was allowed to choose a band of workers under herself, to make articles for the coming sale.
The Fair was the great event to which the girls looked forward, and in the first excitement of such an unusual proceeding9 each of them worked with a will.
Janet was the heart and soul of everything. She was a girl with a great deal of independence of character; she was not destitute10 of ambition—she was remarkable11 for common sense—she was sharp in her manner, downright in her words, and capable, painstaking12, and energetic in all she did.
She was a dependable girl—clever up to a certain point, nice to those with whom she agreed, [Pg 37]affectionate to the people who did not specially13 prize her affection.
Janet was never known to lose her temper, but she had a sarcastic14 tongue, and people did not like to lay themselves open to the cutting remarks which often and unsparingly fell from her lips.
She used this tongue most frequently on Bridget O'Hara, but for the first time she was met by a wondering, puzzled, good-humored, and non-comprehending gaze.
"What does Janet mean?" Bridget would whisper to her nearest companion. "Is she saying something awfully15 clever? I'm sorry that I'm stupid—I don't quite catch her meaning."
These remarks usually turned the tables against Janet May, but they also had another effect. She began to be sparing of her sharp, unkind words in Bridget's hearing. This, however, did not prevent her hating the new girl with the most cordial hatred16 she had ever yet bestowed17 upon anyone.
Bridget was a fortnight at the school, and had more or less shaken down into her place, when the evening arrived on which Miss Percival was to return.
Dorothy, Bridget, and a number of the girls of the lower school were walking up and down a broad road which led to the shore. They were talking and laughing. The smaller girls were dancing and running about in their eagerness. Some very funny proposal had undoubtedly18 been made, and much explosive mirth was the result.
Janet and Olive Moore were returning slowly to the house after a vigorous game of tennis. They stopped to look down at the group who surrounded Dorothy.
[Pg 38]
"We have lost her," said Olive, with a sigh.
"Why, Dorothy Collingwood; she has gone over to the ranks of the enemy."
"What do you mean, Olive?" Olive turned and looked at Janet.
"You know perfectly20 well what I mean," she answered; "you know who the enemy is—at least you know who is your enemy."
"I never knew before that I had an enemy," said Janet, in her guarded voice.
"Come now, Janet," she said, "confession22 is good for the soul—own—now do own that you cordially hate the new girl, Bridget O'Hara."
"I'm sick of the new girl," said Janet; "if you are going to talk about her I shall go into the house; I want to look over my French preparation. M. le Comte is coming to-morrow morning, and he is so frightfully over-particular that I own I'm a little afraid of him."
"Nonsense, Janet, you know you're one of the best French scholars in the school. You won't get out of answering my question by that flimsy excuse. Don't you hate Miss O'Hara?"
"Hate her?" said Janet; "there must be a certain strength about a girl to make you hate her. I've a contempt for Bridget, but I don't rouse myself to the exertion24 of hating."
"Oh, well; it's all the same," said Olive. "You won't admit the feeling that animates25 your breast, but I know that it is there, chérie. Now I have got something to confess on my own account—I don't like her either."
[Pg 39]
"You have too good taste to like her, Olive, but do let us talk about something more interesting. How are you getting on with that table cover for the fair?"
"Oh, I'll come to that by and by; now about Miss O'Hara. Janet, I deny that she's weak."
"You deny that she's weak," repeated Janet. "I wonder what your idea of strength is, Olive."
"She's not learned, I admit," replied Olive, "but weak! no, she's not weak; no weak character could be so audacious, so fearless, so indifferent to her own ignorance."
"If she had any strength, she'd be ashamed of her ignorance," retorted Janet.
"I don't agree with you," answered Olive. "Strength shows itself in many forms. Miss O'Hara is pretty."
"Pretty," interrupted Janet, scorn curling her lip.
"Yes, Janet, she's pretty and she's rich, and she's destitute of fear. She is quite certain to have her own party in the school. I repeat," continued Olive, "that there is no weakness in Bridget. I grant that she is about the most irritating creature I know, but weak she is not."
"Well, well," interrupted Janet impatiently, "have your own way, Olive. Make that tiresome26, disagreeable girl a female Hercules if you fancy, only cease to talk about her. That is all I have to beg."
"I must say one thing," replied Olive, "and then I will turn to a more congenial theme. I hope Evelyn Percival won't take Miss O'Hara's part. You know, Janet, what strong prejudices Evelyn has."
"Oh, don't I!" said Janet, stamping her small foot.
"And if she happens to fancy Bridget she won't mind[Pg 40] a word we say against her. She never does mind what anyone says. You know that, Janet."
"I know," echoed Janet, a queer angry light filling her eyes for a minute. "Oh, dear! oh, dear! What with our examinations and the Fancy Fair, and all this worry about the new girl, life scarcely seems worth living—it really doesn't."
"Poor darling!" said Olive, in a sympathetic tone. "I thought I'd tell you, Janet, that whatever happened I'd take your part."
"Thanks!" said Janet calmly.
She looked at her friend with a cool, critical eye.
Olive Moore belonged to the toadying27 faction28 in the school. Toadies29, however, can be useful, and Janet was by no means above making use of Olive in case of need.
She scrutinized30 Olive's face now, a slightly satirical expression hovering31 round her somewhat thin lips.
"Thanks!" she repeated again. "If I want your help I'll ask for it, Olive. I'm going into the house now, for I really must get on with my preparation."
Janet turned away, and Olive was obliged to look out for a fresh companion to attach herself to.
She looked at the merry group on the lawn, and a desire to join them, even though of course she knew she was in no sense one of them, came over her.
"I'm here, Dolly," she said, in her rather wistful manner.
"Oh, well; it's all right for you to be here, I suppose," said Dorothy. "What were you saying, Bridget? I didn't catch that last sentence of yours."
[Pg 41]
"I was going up the staircase," continued Bridget. "I held a lighted candle in my hand. It was an awful night—you should have heard the wind howling. We keep some special windbags33 of our own at the Castle, and when we open the strings34 of one, why—well, there is a hurricane, that's all."
"Oh, she's telling a story," whispered Olive under her breath. She settled herself contentedly35 to listen.
"Go on; tell us quickly what you did with the candle, Biddy!" cried little Violet, pulling her new friend by the arm.
"Don't shake me so, Vi, my honey; I'm coming to the exciting place—now then. Well, as I was going up the stairs all quite lonely, and by myself, never a soul within half a mile of me——"
"But your castle isn't half a mile big," said Katie, another small girl. "And you did say your father lived there with you, and, of course, there must have been some servants."
"Well, dear, well! half a mile is a figure of speech. That's a way we have in Ireland—we figure of speech everything; it's much more graphic36. Now, to go on. I was running up the stairs with my candle, and the wind rushing after me like mad, and the Castle rocking as if it were in an agony, when—— What do you think happened?"
"What?" said Katie, her eyes growing big with fascination37 and alarm.
"The wind dropped as if it were dead. After screeching38 as if it had the tongues of hundreds of Furies, it was mummer than the timidest mouse that ever crept. The Castle ceased to rock; it was the suddenest and [Pg 42]deadest calm you could possibly imagine. It was miles more frightful23 than the storm. Just then there came a little puff39 of a breeze out of the solid stone wall, and out went my candle."
"O Bridget!" exclaimed the little girls, starting back in affright.
"Bridget, you are talking a great deal of nonsense," said Dorothy, "and I for one am not going to listen to you. We are much too sensible to believe in ghost stories here, and there is no use in your trying to frighten us. Good-by, all of you; I am off to the house!"
Dorothy detached herself from Bridget's clinging arm, and ran quickly up the sloping lawn.
Bridget stood and watched her. Olive kept a little apart, and the smaller girls clustered close together, watching their new friend's face with interest and admiration40.
The Irish girl looked certainly pretty enough to win any number of susceptible41 small hearts at that moment. Her pale blue dress set off her graceful42 figure and fair complexion43 to the best advantage. Her mirthful, lovely eyes were raised to follow Dorothy as she disappeared into the house. Her lips were parted in a mischievous44 smile. She raised one hand to push back the rebellious45 locks of chestnut46 curls from her forehead.
"Now, Biddy, go on, Biddy!" exclaimed the children. "We love ghost stories, so do tell us more about the candle."
"No!" said Bridget. "She says they aren't good for you, so you shan't have them. Let's think of some more fun. Who's that new girl, who, you say, is going to arrive to-night?"
[Pg 43]
"New girl!" exclaimed Katie, "why, she's about the very oldest girl in the school—the oldest and the nicest. She's the head of the school. We call her our queen. She's not like you, Biddy, of course; but she's very nice—awfully nice!"
"And what's the darling's name?" asked Bridget.
"Evelyn Percival. Doesn't it sound pretty?"
"Faix, then, it does, honey. I'm all agog47 to see this lovely queen. Why has she been absent so long? Doesn't Mrs. Freeman require any lessons of the sweet creature? Oh, then, it's I that would like to be in her shoes, if that's the case."
"She has been ill, Biddy," said Violet. "Evelyn has been ill, but she is better now; she's coming back to-night. We are all glad, for we all love her."
"Let's run down the road, then, and give her a welcome," said Bridget. "In Ireland we'd take the horses off the carriage, and draw her home ourselves. Of course, we can't do that, but we might go to meet her, waving branches of trees, and we might raise a hearty48 shout when we saw her coming. Come along, girls—what a lark49! I'll show you how we do this sort of thing in old Ireland! Come! we'll cut down boughs50 as we go along. Come! be quick, be quick!"
"But we are not allowed to cut the boughs, Bridget," said Katie.
"And we are not allowed to go out of the grounds by ourselves," cried several other voices.
"We are not by ourselves when we are together," replied Bridget. "Come along, girls, don't be such little despicable cowards! I'll square it with Mrs.[Pg 44] Freeman. You trust me. Mrs. Freeman will forgive us everything when the queen is coming back. Now, do let's be quick, we haven't a minute to lose!"
Small girls are easily influenced, and Bridget and her tribe rushed down the avenue, shouting and whooping51 as they went.
Olive had no inclination52 to join them. They had taken no notice of her, and she was not sufficiently53 fascinated by Bridget to run any risk for her sake. She knew that her present proceedings54 were wrong, but she was not at all brave enough to raise her voice in protest. She walked slowly back to the house, wondering whether she should go and tell Janet, or sink down lazily on a cozy55 seat and go on with a story book which was sticking out of her pocket.
"Well, my dear child," she said, "I suppose you, like all the rest of us, are on tenter hooks for our dear Evelyn's return. From the accounts we received this morning, she seems to be quite well and strong again, and it will be such a comfort to have her back. I don't know how it is, but the school is quite a different place when she is there."
"We'll all be delighted to have her again, of course," said Olive. "And is she really quite well, Miss Delicia?"
"Yes, my love, or she would not be returning."
Miss Delicia hurried on, intent on some housewifely mission, and Olive entering the house went down a long stone passage which led to the sixth form schoolroom.
[Pg 45]
Janet was there, busily preparing her French lesson for M. le Comte. She was a very ambitious girl, and was determined57 to carry off as many prizes as possible at the coming midsummer examinations. She scarcely raised her eyes when Olive appeared.
"Janet!"
"Yes, Olive; I'm very busy. Do you want anything?"
"Only to tell you that that pet of yours, Bridget O'Hara, is likely to get herself into a nice scrape. She has run down the road with a number of the small fry to meet Evelyn. They are taking boughs of trees with them, and are going to shout, or do something extraordinary, when they see her arriving. Janet, what's the matter? How queer you look!"
"I'm very busy, Olive; I wish you'd go away!"
"But you look queer. Are you frightened about anything?"
"No, no; what nonsense you talk! What is there to be frightened about? Do go; I can't learn this difficult French poetry while you keep staring at me!"
"I wish you'd say what you think about Bridget. Isn't she past enduring, getting all the little ones to disobey like this? Why, she might be expelled! Yes, Janet; yes, I'm going. You needn't look at me as if you'd like to eat me!"
Olive left the room with slow, unwilling58 footsteps, and Janet bent59 her head over the copy of Molière she was studying.
"Nothing in the world could be stupider than French poetry," she muttered. "How am I to get this into my head? What a nuisance Olive is with her stories—she[Pg 46] has disturbed my train of thoughts. Certainly, it's no affair of mine what that detestable wild Irish girl does. I shall always hate her, and whatever happens I can never get myself to tolerate Evelyn. Now, to get back to my poetry. I have determined to win this prize. I won't think of Evelyn and Bridget any more."
Janet bent her fair face again over the open page; a faint flush had risen in each of her cheeks.
She was beginning to collect her somewhat scattered60 thoughts, when the door was opened suddenly, and, to her surprise, Mrs. Freeman came into the room.
"Pardon me for disturbing you," she said; "I did not know anyone was in the schoolroom at present."
"I am looking over my French lesson, madam," answered Janet, in her respectful tones. "It's a little more difficult than usual, and I thought I'd have a quiet half hour here, trying to master it."
"Quite right, Janet, I am glad you are so industrious61. I won't disturb you for more than a minute, my love. I just want to look out of this window. It is the only one that commands a view of the road from Eastcliff. Evelyn ought to be here by now."
Janet did not say any more. She bent forward, ostensibly to renew her studies, in reality to hide a jealous feeling which surged up in her heart.
What a fuss everyone was making about that stupid Evelyn Percival. Here was the head mistress even quite in a fume62 because she was a minute or two late in putting in an appearance.
It really was too absurd. Janet could not help fidgeting almost audibly.
"Janet," said Mrs. Freeman, "come here for a [Pg 47]moment. I want you to use your young eyes. Do you see any carriage coming down the hill?"
"Look, dear," said the governess. "What is that distant speck64? I am so terribly near-sighted that I cannot make out whether it is a carriage or cart of some sort."
"It is a covered wagon," said Janet. "I see it quite plainly. There is no carriage at all in view, Mrs. Freeman."
"My dear, I must tell you that I am a little anxious. Hickman took that shying horse, Caspar, to bring Evelyn home. I intended Miss Molly to have been sent for her. Dear Evelyn is still so nervous after her bad illness that I would not for the world have her startled in any way. And really, Caspar gets worse and worse. What is the matter, Janet? You have started now."
"Nothing," replied Janet. "I—I—shall I run out to the front, Mrs. Freeman, and listen if I can hear the carriage? You can hear it a very long way off from the brow of the hill."
"Do, my love, and call to me if you do. I would not have that dear girl frightened for the world. I am more vexed65 than I can say with Hickman."
Janet ran out of the room. Her heart was beating hard and fast. Should she tell Mrs. Freeman what Olive had just confided66 to her, that Bridget and a number of the smaller children of the school had rushed down the road to meet Evelyn, carrying boughs in their hands, and doubtless shouting loudly in their glee?
Caspar was a sensitive horse; even Janet, who had[Pg 48] no physical fear about her, disliked the way he started, and shied sometimes at his own shadow. It was scarcely likely that he would bear the shock which all those excited children would give him.
Oh, yes, she ought to tell; and yet—and yet——
She stood wavering with her own conscience. Caspar was nervous, but he was not vicious.
All that could possibly happen would be a little fright for Evelyn, and a larger measure of disgrace for Bridget. And why should Janet interfere67? Why should she tell tales of her schoolfellows? Her story would be misinterpreted by that faction of the girls who already had made Bridget their idol68.
No, there was nothing to be alarmed about. Evelyn was too silly, with her nerves and her fads69. Janet stood by the bend of the hill. Her thoughts were so busy that she scarcely troubled herself to listen for the approaching carriage.
She stood for a minute or two, then walked slowly back to the window, out of which her schoolmistress leaned.
"I don't hear any sound whatever, Mrs. Freeman," she said, "but please don't be alarmed; Evelyn's train may have been late."
"Hark! Stop talking!" said Mrs. Freeman.
There was a sound, a commotion70. Several steps were heard; eager voices were raised in expostulation and distress71.
"Let me go," said the head mistress.
Alice, Violet, and several more of the little girls were running and tumbling up the grassy slope.[Pg 49] The moment they saw Mrs. Freeman they ran to her.
"Oh, come at once!" said Violet, "there has been an accident, and Evelyn is hurt. Bridget is with her. Come, come at once!"
The child's words were almost incoherent. Alice, who was not quite so excitable, began to pour out a queer story.
"I know we've all been awfully naughty, but we didn't think Caspar would mind the boughs. He turned sharp round and something happened to the wheels of the carriage—and—and—oh, Mrs. Freeman, do come. I think Evelyn must be dead, she's lying so still."
"Are you there, Janet?" said Mrs. Freeman. "Go into the house, and ask Miss Patience to follow me down the road. And see that someone goes for Dr. Hart. Alice, you can come back with me. The rest of the little girls are to go into the playroom, and to stay there until I come to them."
Mrs. Freeman spoke73 calmly, but there was a look about her face which gave Janet a very queer sensation. The schoolmistress took Alice's hand, and walked as quickly as she could to the scene of the accident.
The carriage lay smashed a couple of hundred yards from the gates of the avenue.
Bridget was sitting in the middle of the dusty road with a girl's head on her lap. The girl's figure was stretched out flat and motionless; her hat was off, and Bridget was pushing back some waves of fair hair from her temples.
"It's all my fault, Mrs. Freeman," said Bridget O'Hara, looking up with a tear-stained face at her [Pg 50]governess. "I made the children come, and I made them cut the branches off the trees, and we ran, and shouted as we ran. I didn't think it would do any harm, it was all a joke, and to welcome her, for they said she was the queen, but no one is to blame in all the wide world but me."
"Oh, what a wicked girl you are," said Mrs. Freeman, roused out of her customary gentle manner by the sight of Evelyn's motionless form. "I can't speak to you at this moment, Bridget O'Hara; go away, leave Evelyn to me. Evelyn, my darling, look at me, speak to me—say you are not hurt!"
When Mrs. Freeman told Bridget to go away and leave her, the Irish girl stopped playing with the tendrils of hair on Evelyn's forehead, and looked at her governess with a blank expression stealing over her face.
She did not attempt to rise to her feet, however, and Mrs. Freeman was far too much absorbed to take any further notice of her.
"If I had only some smelling salts," she began.
Bridget slipped her hand into her pocket, and pulled out an exquisitely74 embossed vinaigrette.
After two or three applications the injured girl stirred faintly, a shade of color came into her cheeks, and she opened her eyes.
"There, thank Heaven, I haven't killed her!" exclaimed Bridget.
"I believe I am more frightened than hurt," said Miss Percival, struggling to sit up, and smiling at Mrs. Freeman, "I'm so awfully sorry that I've lost my[Pg 51] nerve. Where am I? what has happened? I only remember Caspar turning right round and looking at me, and some people shouting, and then the carriage went over, and I cannot recall anything more. But I don't think—no—I am sure I am not seriously hurt."
"Thank God for that, my darling," said Mrs. Freeman. She put her arm round the young girl, kissed her tenderly, and drew her away from Bridget.
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1
eccentricities
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| n.古怪行为( eccentricity的名词复数 )；反常；怪癖 | |
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levity
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| n.轻率，轻浮，不稳定，多变 | |
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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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aptitude
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| n.(学习方面的)才能，资质，天资 | |
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refractory
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| adj.倔强的，难驾驭的 | |
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laboriously
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| adv.艰苦地；费力地；辛勤地；（文体等）佶屈聱牙地 | |
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7
vagaries
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| n.奇想( vagary的名词复数 )；异想天开；异常行为；难以预测的情况 | |
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lollipops
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| n.棒糖，棒棒糖( lollipop的名词复数 )；（用交通指挥牌让车辆暂停以便儿童安全通过马路的）交通纠察 | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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destitute
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| adj.缺乏的；穷困的 | |
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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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painstaking
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| adj.苦干的；艰苦的，费力的，刻苦的 | |
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specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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sarcastic
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| adj.讥讽的，讽刺的，嘲弄的 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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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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undoubtedly
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| adv.确实地，无疑地 | |
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tart
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| adj.酸的；尖酸的，刻薄的；n.果馅饼；淫妇 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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steadily
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| adv.稳定地；不变地；持续地 | |
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confession
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| n.自白，供认，承认 | |
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frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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animates
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| v.使有生气( animate的第三人称单数 )；驱动；使栩栩如生地动作；赋予…以生命 | |
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tiresome
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| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
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toadying
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| v.拍马，谄媚( toady的现在分词 ) | |
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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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toadies
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| n.谄媚者，马屁精( toady的名词复数 )v.拍马，谄媚( toady的第三人称单数 ) | |
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scrutinized
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| v.仔细检查，详审( scrutinize的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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grassy
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| adj.盖满草的；长满草的 | |
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windbags
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| n.风囊，饶舌之人( windbag的名词复数 ) | |
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strings
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| n.弦 | |
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contentedly
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| adv.心满意足地 | |
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graphic
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| adj.生动的，形象的，绘画的，文字的，图表的 | |
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fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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screeching
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| v.发出尖叫声( screech的现在分词 )；发出粗而刺耳的声音；高叫 | |
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puff
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| n.一口(气)；一阵(风)；v.喷气，喘气 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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susceptible
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| adj.过敏的，敏感的；易动感情的，易受感动的 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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mischievous
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| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
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rebellious
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| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
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chestnut
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| n.栗树，栗子 | |
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agog
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| adj.兴奋的，有强烈兴趣的； adv.渴望地 | |
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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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lark
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| n.云雀，百灵鸟；n.嬉戏，玩笑；vi.嬉戏 | |
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boughs
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| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
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whooping
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| 发嗬嗬声的，发咳声的 | |
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inclination
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| n.倾斜；点头；弯腰；斜坡；倾度；倾向；爱好 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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proceedings
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| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
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cozy
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| adj.亲如手足的，密切的，暖和舒服的 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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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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industrious
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| adj.勤劳的，刻苦的，奋发的 | |
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fume
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| n.(usu pl.)(浓烈或难闻的)烟，气，汽 | |
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alacrity
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| n.敏捷，轻快，乐意 | |
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speck
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| n.微粒，小污点，小斑点 | |
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vexed
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| adj.争论不休的；（指问题等）棘手的；争论不休的问题；烦恼的v.使烦恼( vex的过去式和过去分词 )；使苦恼；使生气；详细讨论 | |
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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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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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fads
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| n.一时的流行，一时的风尚( fad的名词复数 ) | |
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commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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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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exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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applied
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| adj.应用的；v.应用，适用 | |
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nostrils
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| 鼻孔( nostril的名词复数 ) | |
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frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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