Speaking of the affairs of B. B. C., Sir Barnes Newcome always took care to maintain his candid1 surprise relating to the proceedings2 of that Company. He set about evil reports against it! He endeavour to do it a wrong — absurd! If a friend were to ask him (and it was quite curious what a number did manage to ask him) whether he thought the Company was an advantageous3 investment, of course he would give an answer. He could not say conscientiously4 he thought so — never once had said so — in the time of their connexion, which had been formed solely5 with a view of obliging his amiable6 uncle. It was a quarrelsome Company; a dragoon Company; a Company of gentlemen accustomed to gunpowder7, and fed on mulligatawny. He, forsooth, be hostile to it! There were some Companies that required no enemies at all, and would be pretty sure to go to the deuce their own way.
Thus, and with this amiable candour, spake Barnes, about a commercial speculation8, the merits of which he had a right to canvass9 as well as any other citizen. As for Uncle Hobson, his conduct was characterised by a timidity which one would scarcely have expected from a gentleman of his florid, jolly countenance10, active habits, and generally manly11 demeanour. He kept away from the cocoa-nut feast, as we have seen: he protested privily12 to the Colonel that his private goodwill13 continued undiminished but he was deeply grieved at the B. B. C. affair, which took place while he was on the Continent — confound the Continent, my wife would go — and which was entirely14 without his cognisance. The Colonel received his brother’s excuses, first with awful bows and ceremony, and finally with laughter. “My good Hobson,” said he, with the most insufferable kindness, “of course you intended to be friendly; of course the affair was done without your knowledge. We understand that sort of thing. London bankers have no hearts — for these last fifty years past that I have known you and your brother, and my amiable nephew, the present commanding officer, has there been anything in your conduct that has led me to suppose you had?” and herewith Colonel Newcome burst out into a laugh. It was not a pleasant laugh to hear. Worthy15 Hobson took his hat, and walked away, brushing it round and round, and looking very confused. The Colonel strode after him downstairs, and made him an awful bow at the hall door. Never again did Hobson Newcome set foot in that Tyburnian mansion16.
During the whole of that season of the testimonial the cocoa-nut figured in an extraordinary number of banquets. The Colonel’s hospitalities were more profuse17 than ever, and Mrs. Clive’s toilettes more brilliant. Clive, in his confidential18 conversations with his friends, was very dismal19 and gloomy. When I asked City news of our well-informed friend F. B., I am sorry to say, his countenance became funereal20. The B. B. C. shares, which had been at an immense premium21 twelve months since, were now slowly falling, falling.
“I wish,” said Mr. Sherrick to me, “the Colonel would realise, even now, like that Mr. Ratray who has just come out of the ship, and brought a hundred thousand pounds with him.”
“Come out of the ship! You little know the Colonel, Mr. Sherrick, if you think he will ever do that.”
Mr. Ratray, though he had returned to Europe, gave the most cheering accounts of the B. B. C. It was in the most flourishing state. Shares sure to get up again. He had sold out entirely on account of his liver. Must come home — the doctor said so.
Some months afterwards, another director, Mr. Hedges, came home. Both of these gentlemen, as we know, entertained the fashionable world, got seats in Parliament, purchased places in the country, and were greatly respected. Mr. Hedges came out, but his wealthy partner, Mr. M’Gaspey, entered into the B. B. C. The entry of Mr. M’Gaspey into the affairs of the Companyt did not seem to produce very great excitement in England. The shares slowly fell. However, there was a prodigious22 indigo23 crop. The London manager was in perfect good-humour. In spite of this and that, of defections, of unpleasantries, of unfavourable whispers, and doubtful friends — Thomas Newcome kept his head high, and his face was always kind and smiling, except when certain family enemies were mentioned, and he frowned like Jove in anger.
We have seen how very fond little Rosey was of her mamma, of her uncle, James Binnie, and now of her papa, as she affectionately styled Thomas Newcome. This affection, I am sure, the two gentlemen returned with all their hearts, and but that they were much too generous and simple-minded to entertain such a feeling. It may be wondered that the two good old boys were not a little jealous of one another. Howbeit it does not appear that they entertained such a feeling; at least it never interrupted the kindly24 friendship between them, and Clive was regarded in the light of a son by both of them, and each contented26 himself with his moiety27 of the smiling little girl’s affection.
As long as they were with her, the truth is, little Mrs. Clive was very fond of people, very docile28, obedient, easily pleased, brisk, kind, and good-humoured. She charmed her two old friends with little songs, little smiles — little kind offices, little caresses29; and having administered Thomas Newcome’s cigar to him in the daintiest, prettiest way, she would trip off to drive with James Binnie, or sit at his dinner, if he was indisposed, and be as gay, neat-handed, watchful30, and attentive31 a child as any old gentleman could desire.
She did not seem to be very sorry to part with mamma, a want of feeling which that lady bitterly deplored32 in her subsequent conversation with her friends about Mrs. Clive Newcome. Possibly there were reasons why Rosey should not be very much vexed33 at quitting mamma; but surely she might have dropped a little tear as she took leave of kind, good old James Binnie. Not she. The gentleman’s voice faltered34, but hers did not in the least. She kissed him on the face, all smiles, blushes, and happiness, and tripped into the railway carriage with her husband and father-inlaw, leaving the poor old uncle very sad. Our women said, I know not why, that little Rosey had no heart at all. Women are accustomed to give such opinions respecting the wives of their newly married friends. I am bound to add (and I do so during Mr. Clive Newcome’s absence from England, otherwise I should not like to venture upon the statement), that some men concur35 with the ladies’ opinion of Mrs. Clive. For instance, Captains Goby and Hoby declare that her treatment of the latter, her encouragement, and desertion of him when Clive made his proposals, were shameful36.
At this time Rosey was in a pupillary state. A good, obedient little girl, her duty was to obey the wishes of her dear mamma. How show her sense of virtue37 and obedience38 better than by promptly39 and cheerfully obeying mamma, and at the orders of that experienced Campaigner, giving up Bobby Hoby, and going to England to a fine house, to be presented at Court, to have all sorts of pleasure with a handsome young husband and a kind father-inlaw by her side? No wonder Rosey was not in a very active state of grief at parting from Uncle James. He strove to console himself with these considerations when he had returned to the empty house, where she had danced, and smiled, and warbled; and he looked at the chair she sat in; and at the great mirror which had so often reflected her fresh pretty face; — the great callous40 mirror, which now only framed upon its shining sheet the turban, and the ringlets, and the plump person, and the resolute41 smile of the old Campaigner.
After that parting with her uncle at the Brussels railway, Rosey never again beheld42 him. He passed into the Campaigner’s keeping, from which alone he was rescued by the summons of pallid43 death. He met that summons like a philosopher; rejected rather testily44 all the mortuary consolations46 which his nephew-inlaw, Josey’s husband, thought proper to bring to his bedside; and uttered opinions which scandalised that divine. But as he left Mrs. M’Craw only 500 pounds, thrice that sum to his sister, and the remainder of his property to his beloved niece, Rosa Mackenzie, now Rosa Newcome, let us trust that Mr. M’Craw, hurt and angry at the ill-favour shown to his wife, his third young wife, his best-beloved Josey, at the impatience48 with which the deceased had always received his, Mr. M’Craw’s, own sermons; — let us hope, I say, that the reverend gentleman was mistaken in his views respecting the present position of Mr. James Binnie’s soul; and that Heaven may have some regions yet accessible to James, which Mr. M’Craw’s intellect has not yet explored. Look, gentlemen! Does a week pass without the announcement of the discovery of a new comet in the sky, a new star in the heaven, twinkling dimly out of a yet farther distance, and only now becoming visible to human ken47 though existent for ever and ever? So let us hope divine truths may be shining, and regions of light and love extant, which Geneva glasses cannot yet perceive, and are beyond the focus of Roman telescopes.
I think Clive and the Colonel were more affected49 by the news of James’s death than Rosey, concerning whose wonderful strength of mind good Thomas Newcome discoursed50 to my Laura and me, when, fancying that my friend’s wife needed comfort and consolation45, Mrs. Pendennis went to visit her. “Of course we shall have no more parties this year,” sighed Rosey. She looked very pretty in her black dress. Clive, in his hearty51 way, said a hundred kind feeling things about the departed friend. Thomas Newcome’s recollections of him, and regret, were no less tender and sincere. “See,” says he, “how that dear child’s sense of duty makes her hide her feelings! Her grief is most deep, but she wears a calm countenance. I see her looking sad in private, but I no sooner speak than she smiles.” “I think,” said Laura, as we came away, “that Colonel Newcome performs all the courtship part in the marriage, and Clive, poor Clive, though he spoke52 very nobly and generously about Mr. Binnie, I am sure it is not his old friend’s death merely, which makes him so unhappy.”
Poor Clive, by right of his wife, was now rich Clive; the little lady having inherited from her kind relative no inconsiderable sum of money. In a very early part of this story, mention has been made of a small sum producing one hundred pounds a year, which Clive’s father had made over to the lad when he sent him from India. This little sum Mr. Clive had settled upon his wife before his marriage, being indeed all he had of his own; for the famous bank shares which his father presented to him, were only made over formally when the young man came to London after his marriage, and at the paternal53 request and order appeared as a most inefficient54 director of the B. B. C. Now Mrs. Newcome, of her inheritance, possessed55 not only B. B. C. shares, but moneys in bank, and shares in East India Stock, so that Clive in the right of his wife had a seat in the assembly of East India shareholders56, and a voice in the election of directors of that famous company. I promise you Mrs. Clive was a personage of no little importance. She carried her little head with an aplomb57 and gravity which amused some of us. F. B. bent58 his most respectfully down before her; she sent him on messages, and deigned59 to ask him to dinner. He once more wore a cheerful countenance; the clouds which gathered o’er the sun of Newcome were in the bosom60 of the ocean buried, Bayham said, by James Binnie’s brilliant behaviour to his niece.
Clive was a proprietor61 of East India Stock, and had a vote in electing the directors of that Company; and who so fit to be a director of his affairs as Thomas Newcome, Esq., Companion of the Bath, and so long a distinguished62 officer in its army? To hold this position of director, used, up to very late days, to be the natural ambition of many East Indian gentlemen. Colonel Newcome had often thought of offering himself as a candidate, and now openly placed himself on the lists, and publicly announced his intention. His interest was rather powerful through the Indian bank, of which he was a director, and many of the shareholders of which were proprietors63 of the East India Company. To have a director of the B. B. C. also a member of the parliament in Leadenhall Street, would naturally be beneficial to the former institution. Thomas Newcome’s prospectuses64 were issued accordingly, and his canvass received with tolerable favour.
Within a very short time another candidate appeared in the field — a retired65 Bombay lawyer, of considerable repute and large means — and at the head of this gentleman’s committee appeared the names of Hobson Brothers and Newcome, very formidable personages at the East India House, with which the bank of Hobson Brothers have had dealings for half a century past, and where the old lady, who founded or consolidated66 that family, had had three stars before her own venerable name, which had descended67 upon her son Sir Brian, and her grandson, Sir Barnes.
War was thus openly declared between Thomas Newcome and his nephew. The canvass on both sides was very hot and eager. The number of promises was pretty equal. The election was not to come off yet for a while; for aspirants68 to the honourable69 office of director used to announce their wishes years before they could be fulfilled, and returned again and again to the contest before they finally won it. Howbeit, the Colonel’s prospects70 were very fair, and a prodigious indigo crop came in to favour the B. B. C., with the most brilliant report from the board at Calcutta. The shares, still somewhat sluggish71, rose again, the Colonel’s hopes with them, and the courage of gentlemen at home who had invested their money in the transaction.
We were sitting one day round the Colonel’s dinner-table; it was not one of the cocoa-nut-tree days; that emblem72 was locked up in the butler’s pantry, and only beheld the lamps on occasions of state. It was a snug73 family party in the early part of the year, When scarcely anybody was in town; only George Warrington, and F. B., and Mr. and Mrs. Pendennis; and the ladies having retired, We were having such a talk as we used to enjoy in quiet old days, before marriages and cares and divisions had separated us.
F. B. led the conversation. The Colonel received his remarks with great gravity, and thought him an instructive personage. Others considered him rather as amusing than instructive, and so his eloquence74 was generally welcome. The canvass for the directorship was talked over. The improved affairs of a certain great Banking75 Company, which shall be nameless, but one which F. B. would take the liberty to state, would, in his opinion, for ever unite the mother country to our great Indian possessions; — the prosperity of this great Company was enthusiastically drunk by Mr. Bayham in some of the very best claret. The conduct of the enemies of that Company was characterised in terms of bitter, but not undeserved, satire76. F. B. rather liked to air his oratory77, and neglected few opportunities for making speeches after dinners.
The Colonel admired his voice and sentiments not the less, perhaps, because the latter were highly laudatory78 of the good man. And not from interest, at least, as far as he himself knew — not from any mean or selfish motives79, did F. B. speak. He called Colonel Newcome his friend, his benefactor80: kissed the hem25 of his garment: he wished fervently81 that he could have been the Colonel’s son: he expressed, repeatedly, a desire that some one would speak ill of the Colonel, so that he, F. B., might have the opportunity of polishing that individual off in about two seconds. He covered the Colonel with all his heart; nor is any gentleman proof altogether against this constant regard and devotion from another.
The Colonel used to wag his head wisely, and say Mr. Bayham’s suggestions were often exceedingly valuable, as indeed the fact was, though his conduct was no more of a piece with his opinions than those of some other folks occasionally are.
“What the Colonel ought to do, sir, to help him in the direction,” says F. B., “is to get into Parliament. The House of Commons would aid him into the Court of Directors, and the Court of Directors would help him in the House of Commons.”
“Most wisely said,” says Warrington.
The Colonel declined. “I have long had the House of Commons in my eye,” he said; “but not for me. I wanted my boy to go there. It would be a proud day for me if I could see him there.”
“I can’t speak,” says Clive, from his end of the table. “I don’t understand about parties, like F. B. here.”
“I believe I do know a thing or two,” Mr. Bayham here interposes.
“And politics do not interest me in the least,” Clive sighs out, drawing pictures with his fork on his napkin, and not heeding82 the other’s interruption.
“I wish I knew what would interest him,” his father whispers to me, who happened to be at his side. “He never cares to be out of his painting-room; and he doesn’t seem to be very happy even in there. I wish to God, Pen, I knew what had come over the boy.” I thought I knew; but what was the use of telling, now there was no remedy?
“A dissolution is expected every day,” continued F. B. “The papers are full of it. Ministers cannot go on with this majority — cannot possibly go on, sir. I have it on the best authority; and men who are anxious about their seats are writing to their constituents83, or are subscribing84 at missionary85 meetings, or are gone down to lecturing at Athenaeums, and that sort of thing.”
Here Warrington burst out into a laughter much louder than the occasion of the speech of F. B. seemed to warrant; and the Colonel, turning round with some dignity, asked the cause of George’s amusement.
“What do you think your darling, Sir Barnes Newcome Newcome, has been doing during the recess86?” cries Warrington. “I had a letter this morning, from my liberal and punctual employer, Thomas Potts, Esquire, of the Newcome Independent, who states, in language scarcely respectful, that Sir Barnes Newcome Newcome is trying to come the religious dodge87, as Mr. Potts calls it. He professes88 to be stricken down by grief on account of late family circumstances; wears black, and puts on the most piteous aspect, and asks ministers of various denominations89 to tea with him; and the last announcement is the most stupendous of all. Stop, I have it in my greatcoat;” and, ringing the bell, George orders a servant to bring him a newspaper from his great-coat pocket. “Here it is, actually in print,” Warrington continues, and reads to us:—”‘Newcome Athenaeum. 1, for the benefit of the Newcome Orphan91 Children’s Home, and 2, for the benefit of the Newcome Soup Association, without distinction of denomination90. Sir Barnes Newcome Newcome, Bart., proposes to give two lectures, on Friday the 23rd, and Friday the 30th, instant. No. 1, The Poetry of Childhood: Doctor Watts92, Mrs. Barbauld, Jane Taylor, No. 2, The Poetry of Womanhood, and the Affections: Mrs. Hemans, L. E. L. Threepence will be charged at the doors, which will go to the use of the above two admirable Societies.’ Potts wants me to go down and hear him. He has an eye to business. He has had a quarrel with Sir Barnes, and wants me to go down and hear him, and smash him, he kindly says. Let us go down, Clive. You shall draw your cousin as you have drawn93 his villainous little mug a hundred times before; and I will do the smashing part, and we will have some fun out of the transaction.”
“Besides, Florac will be in the country; going to Rosebury is a journey worth the taking, I can tell you; and we have old Mrs. Mason to go and see, who sighs after you, Colonel. My wife went to see her,” remarks Mr. Pendennis, “and ——”
“And Miss Newcome, I know,” says the Colonel.
“She is away at Brighton, with her little charges, for sea air. My wife heard from her today.”
“Oh, indeed. Mrs. Pendennis corresponds with her?” says our host, darkling under his eyebrows94; and, at this moment, my neighbour, F. B., is kind enough to scrunch95 my foot under the table with the weight of his heel, as much as to warn me, by an appeal to my own corns, to avoid treading on so delicate a subject in that house. “Yes,” said I, in spite, perhaps in consequence, of this interruption. “My wife does correspond with Miss Ethel, who is a noble creature, and whom those who know her know how to love and admire. She is very much changed since you knew her, Colonel Newcome; since the misfortunes in Sir Barnes’s family, and the differences between you and him. Very much changed and very much improved. Ask my wife about her, who knows her most intimately, and hears from her constantly.”
“Very likely, very likely,” cried the Colonel, hurriedly, “I hope she is improved, with all my heart. I am sure there was room for it. Gentlemen, shall we go up to the ladies and have some coffee?” And herewith the colloquy96 ended, and the party ascended97 to the drawing-room.
The party ascended to the drawing-room, where no doubt both the ladies were pleased by the invasion which ended their talk. My wife and the Colonel talked apart, and I saw the latter looking gloomy, and the former pleading very eagerly, and using a great deal of action, as the little hands are wont98 to do, when the mistress’s heart is very much moved. I was sure she was pleading Ethel’s cause with her uncle.
So indeed she was. And Mr. George, too, knew what her thoughts were. “Look at her!” he said to me. “Don’t you see what she is doing? She believes in that girl whom you all said Clive took a fancy to before he married his present little placid99 wife; a nice little simple creature, who is worth a dozen Ethels.”
“Simple certainly,” says Mr. P., with a shrug100 of the shoulders.
“A simpleton of twenty is better than a roue of twenty. It is better not to have thought at all, than to have thought such things as must go through a girl’s mind whose life is passed in jilting and being jilted; whose eyes, as soon as they are opened, are turned to the main chance, and are taught to leer at earl, to languish101 at a marquis, and to grow blind before a commoner. I don’t know much about fashionable life. Heaven help us (you young Brummell! I see the reproach in your face!) Why, sir, it absolutely appears to me as if this little hop-o’-my-thumb of a creature has begun to give herself airs since her marriage and her carriage. Do you know, I rather thought she patronised me? Are all women spoiled by their contact with the world, and their bloom rubbed off in the market? I know one who seems to me to remain pure! to be sure, I only know her, and this little person, and Mrs. Flanagan our laundress, and my sisters at home, who don’t count. But that Miss Newcome to whom once you introduced me? Oh, the cockatrice! only that poison don’t affect your wife, the other would kill her. I hope the Colonel will not believe a word which Laura says.” And my wife’s tete-a-tete with our host coming to an end about this time, Mr. Warrington in high spirits goes up to the ladies, recapitulates102 the news of Barnes’s lecture, recites “How doth the little busy bee,” and gives a quasi-satirical comment upon that well-known poem, which bewilders Mrs. Clive, until, set on by the laughter of the rest of the audience, she laughs very freely at that odd man, and calls him “you droll103 satirical creature you!” and says “she never was so much amused in her life. Were you, Mrs. Pendennis?”
Meanwhile Clive, who has been sitting apart moodily104 biting his nails, not listening to F. B.‘s remarks, has broken into a laugh once or twice, and gone to a writing-book, on which, whilst George is still disserting, Clive is drawing.
At the end of the other’s speech, F. B. goes up to the draughtsman, looks over his shoulder, makes one or two violent efforts as of inward convulsion, and finally explodes in an enormous guffaw105. “It’s capital! By Jove, it’s capital! Sir Barnes would never dare to face his constituents with that picture of him hung up in Newcome!”
And F. B. holds up the drawing, at which we all laugh except Laura. As for the Colonel, he paces up and down the room, holding the sketch106 close to his eyes, holding it away from him, patting it, clapping his son delightedly on the shoulder. “Capital! capital! We’ll have the picture printed, by Jove, sir; show vice107 it’s own image; and shame the viper108 in his own nest, sir. That’s what we will.”
Mrs. Pendennis came away with rather a heavy heart from this party. She chose to interest herself about the right or wrong of her friends; and her mind was disturbed by the Colonel’s vindictive109 spirit. On the subsequent day we had occasion to visit our friend J. J. (who was completing the sweetest little picture, No. 263 in the Exhibition, “Portrait of a Lady and Child”), and we found that Clive had been with the painter that morning likewise; and that J. J. was acquainted with his scheme. That he did not approve of it we could read in the artist’s grave countenance. “Nor does Clive approve of it either!” cried Ridley, with greater eagerness than he usually displayed, and more openness than he was accustomed to exhibit in judging unfavourably of his friends.
“Among them they have taken him away from his art,” Ridley said. “They don’t understand him when he talks about it; they despise him for pursuing it. Why should I wonder at that? my parents despised it too, and my father was not a grand gentleman like the Colonel, Mrs. Pendennis. Ah! why did the Colonel ever grow rich? Why had not Clive to work for his bread as have? He would have done something that was worthy of him then; now his time must be spent in dancing attendance at balls land operas, and yawning at City board-rooms. They call that business: they think he is idling when he comes here, poor fellow! As if life was long enough for our art; and the best labour we can give, good enough for it! He went away groaning110 this morning, and quite saddened in spirits. The Colonel wants to set up himself for Parliament, or to set Clive up; but he says he won’t. I hope he won’t; do not you, Mrs. Pendennis?”
The painter turned as he spoke; and the bright northern light which fell upon the sitter’s head was intercepted111, and lighted up his own as he addressed us. Out of that bright light looked his pale thoughtful face, and long locks and eager brown eyes. The palette on his arm was a great shield painted of many colours: he carried his mall-stick and a sheaf of brushes along with the weapons of his glorious but harmless war. With these he achieves conquests, wherein none are wounded save the envious112: with that he shelters him against how much idleness, ambition, temptations! Occupied over that consoling work, idle thoughts cannot gain mastery over him: selfish wishes or desires are kept at bay. Art is truth: and truth is religion: and its study and practice a daily work of pious113 duty. What are the world’s struggles, brawls114, successes, to that calm recluse115 pursuing his calling? See, twinkling in the darkness round his chamber116, numberless beautiful trophies117 of the graceful118 victories which he has won:— sweet flowers of fancy reared by him:— kind shapes of beauty which he has devised and moulded. The world enters into the artist’s studio, and scornfully bids him a price for his genius, or makes dull pretence119 to admire it. What know you of his art? You cannot read the alphabet of that sacred book, good old Thomas Newcome! What can you tell of its glories, joys, secrets, consolations? Between his two best-beloved mistresses, poor Clive’s luckless father somehow interposes; and with sorrowful, even angry protests. In place of Art the Colonel brings him a ledger120; and in lieu of first love, shows him Rosey.
No wonder that Clive hangs his head; rebels sometimes, desponds always: he has positively121 determined122 to refuse to stand for Newcome, Ridley says. Laura is glad of his refusal, and begins to think of him once more as of the Clive of old days.
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candid
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| adj.公正的，正直的；坦率的 | |
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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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advantageous
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| adj.有利的；有帮助的 | |
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conscientiously
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| adv.凭良心地；认真地，负责尽职地；老老实实 | |
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solely
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| adv.仅仅，唯一地 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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gunpowder
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| n.火药 | |
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speculation
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| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
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canvass
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| v.招徕顾客，兜售；游说；详细检查，讨论 | |
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countenance
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manly
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privily
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goodwill
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| n.善意，亲善，信誉，声誉 | |
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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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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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mansion
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profuse
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confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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dismal
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funereal
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premium
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| n.加付款；赠品；adj.高级的；售价高的 | |
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prodigious
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| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
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indigo
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| n.靛青，靛蓝 | |
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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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hem
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| n.贴边，镶边；vt.缝贴边；(in)包围，限制 | |
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contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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moiety
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| n.一半；部分 | |
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docile
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| adj.驯服的，易控制的，容易教的 | |
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29
caresses
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| 爱抚，抚摸( caress的名词复数 ) | |
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30
watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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attentive
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| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
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deplored
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| v.悲叹，痛惜，强烈反对( deplore的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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34
faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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35
concur
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| v.同意，意见一致，互助，同时发生 | |
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36
shameful
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| adj.可耻的，不道德的 | |
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37
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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38
obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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39
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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40
callous
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| adj.无情的，冷淡的，硬结的，起老茧的 | |
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41
resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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42
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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43
pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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44
testily
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| adv. 易怒地, 暴躁地 | |
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45
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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46
consolations
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| n.安慰，慰问( consolation的名词复数 )；起安慰作用的人（或事物） | |
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47
ken
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| n.视野，知识领域 | |
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48
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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49
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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50
discoursed
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| 演说（discourse的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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51
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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52
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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53
paternal
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| adj.父亲的，像父亲的，父系的，父方的 | |
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54
inefficient
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| adj.效率低的，无效的 | |
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55
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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56
shareholders
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| n.股东( shareholder的名词复数 ) | |
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57
aplomb
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| n.沉着，镇静 | |
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58
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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59
deigned
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| v.屈尊，俯就( deign的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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60
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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proprietor
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| n.所有人；业主；经营者 | |
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distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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63
proprietors
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| n.所有人，业主( proprietor的名词复数 ) | |
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prospectuses
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| n.章程，简章，简介( prospectus的名词复数 ) | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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consolidated
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| a.联合的 | |
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67
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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68
aspirants
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| n.有志向或渴望获得…的人( aspirant的名词复数 )v.渴望的，有抱负的，追求名誉或地位的( aspirant的第三人称单数 )；有志向或渴望获得…的人 | |
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69
honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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70
prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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71
sluggish
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| adj.懒惰的，迟钝的，无精打采的 | |
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72
emblem
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| n.象征，标志；徽章 | |
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73
snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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74
eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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75
banking
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| n.银行业，银行学，金融业 | |
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76
satire
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| n.讽刺，讽刺文学，讽刺作品 | |
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77
oratory
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| n.演讲术；词藻华丽的言辞 | |
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laudatory
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| adj.赞扬的 | |
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79
motives
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| n.动机，目的( motive的名词复数 ) | |
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80
benefactor
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| n. 恩人，行善的人，捐助人 | |
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81
fervently
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| adv.热烈地，热情地，强烈地 | |
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82
heeding
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的现在分词 ) | |
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83
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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84
subscribing
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| v.捐助( subscribe的现在分词 )；签署，题词；订阅；同意 | |
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85
missionary
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| adj.教会的，传教(士)的；n.传教士 | |
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86
recess
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| n.短期休息，壁凹（墙上装架子，柜子等凹处） | |
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87
dodge
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| v.闪开，躲开，避开；n.妙计，诡计 | |
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88
professes
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| 声称( profess的第三人称单数 )； 宣称； 公开表明； 信奉 | |
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89
denominations
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| n.宗派( denomination的名词复数 )；教派；面额；名称 | |
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90
denomination
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| n.命名，取名，(度量衡、货币等的)单位 | |
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91
orphan
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| n.孤儿；adj.无父母的 | |
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92
watts
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| （电力计量单位）瓦，瓦特( watt的名词复数 ) | |
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93
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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94
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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95
scrunch
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| v.压，挤压；扭曲（面部） | |
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96
colloquy
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| n.谈话，自由讨论 | |
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97
ascended
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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98
wont
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| adj.习惯于；v.习惯；n.习惯 | |
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99
placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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100
shrug
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| v.耸肩(表示怀疑、冷漠、不知等) | |
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101
languish
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| vi.变得衰弱无力，失去活力，（植物等）凋萎 | |
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102
recapitulates
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| n.总结，扼要重述( recapitulate的名词复数 )v.总结，扼要重述( recapitulate的第三人称单数 ) | |
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103
droll
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| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
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104
moodily
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| adv.喜怒无常地；情绪多变地；心情不稳地；易生气地 | |
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105
guffaw
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| n.哄笑；突然的大笑 | |
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106
sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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107
vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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108
viper
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| n.毒蛇；危险的人 | |
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109
vindictive
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| adj.有报仇心的，怀恨的，惩罚的 | |
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110
groaning
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| adj. 呜咽的, 呻吟的 动词groan的现在分词形式 | |
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111
intercepted
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| 拦截( intercept的过去式和过去分词 )； 截住； 截击； 拦阻 | |
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112
envious
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| adj.嫉妒的，羡慕的 | |
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113
pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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114
brawls
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| 吵架，打架( brawl的名词复数 ) | |
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115
recluse
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| n.隐居者 | |
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116
chamber
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| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
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117
trophies
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| n.（为竞赛获胜者颁发的）奖品( trophy的名词复数 )；奖杯；（尤指狩猎或战争中获得的）纪念品；（用于比赛或赛跑名称）奖 | |
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118
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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119
pretence
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| n.假装，作假；借口，口实；虚伪；虚饰 | |
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120
ledger
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| n.总帐，分类帐；帐簿 | |
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121
positively
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| adv.明确地，断然，坚决地；实在，确实 | |
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122
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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