The party at the vicarage was smaller than usual, for Rob and Oswald had both gone home for the festive3 season, and he knew well that the knowledge that “Arthur was coming” had seemed the best guarantee of a merry day to those who were left.
Peggy too—poor little Peg4, with her bandaged hands and tiny white face—it would never do to grieve her by being depressed5 and gloomy!
“Begone, dull care!” cried Arthur to himself then, when he awoke on Christmas morning, and, promptly6 wrapping himself in his dressing-gown, he sallied out on to the landing, where he burst into the strains of “Christians, awake!” with such vigorous brush-and-comb accompaniment on the panels of the doors as startled the household out of their dreams.
“Miserable boy! I was having such a lovely nap! I’ll never forgive you!” cried Mrs Asplin’s voice, in sleepy wrath7.
“Merry Christmas! Merry Christmas!” shouted the girls; and Peggy’s clear pipe joined in last of all. “And many of them! Come in! Come in! I was lying awake and longing8 to see you!”
Arthur put his ruffled9 head round the door and beamed at the little figure in the bed, as if he had never known a trouble in his life.
“What a wicked story! I heard you snore. Merry Christmas, Peg, and a Happy New Year! And don’t you go for to do it again never no more! It’s a jolly morning. I’ll take you out for a toddle10 in the garden when we come home from church, if you are a good girl. Will you have your present now, or wait till you get it? It begins with a B. I love my love with a B, because she’s a—”
“Oh, Arthur!” interrupted Peggy regretfully. “I haven’t half such a nice present for you as I expected. You see I couldn’t work anything, and I couldn’t get out to the shops, and I hadn’t nearly as much money as I expected either. If Rob and I had won that prize, I should have had ten pounds; but the stupid editors have put off announcing the result week after week. They say there were so many competitors; but that’s no consolation11, for it makes our chance less. I do hope it may be out next week. But, at any rate, I didn’t get my ten pounds in time, and there I was, you see, with little money and practically no hands—a—er—a most painful contingency12, which I hope it may never be your lot to experience. You must take the will for the deed.”
“Oh, I will!” agreed Arthur promptly. “I’ll take the will now, and you can follow up with the deed as soon as you get the cash. But no more journeys up to London, my dear, if you love me, and don’t use such big words before seven o’clock in the morning, or you’ll choke. It’s bad for little girls to exert themselves so much. Now I’m going to skate about in the bath for a bit, and tumble into my clothes, and then I’ll come back and give you a lift downstairs. You are coming down for breakfast, I suppose?”
“Rather! On Christmas morning! I should just think I was!” cried Peggy emphatically; and Arthur went off to the bathroom, calling in at Max’s room en route, to squeeze a sponge full of water over that young gentleman’s head, and pull the clothes off the bed, by way of giving emphasis to his, “Get up, you lazy beggar! It’s the day after to-morrow, and the plum-pudding is waiting!”
Peggy was the only one of the young folks who did not go to church that morning; but she was left in charge of the decorations for the dinner-table, and when this was finished there was so much to think about that the time passed all too quickly.
Last year she and Arthur had spent Christmas with their mother; now both parents were away in India, and everything was strange and altered. As Peggy sat gazing into the heart of the big gloomy fire, it seemed to her that the year that was passing away would end a complete epoch13 in her brother’s experiences and her own, and that from this hour a new chapter would begin. She herself had come back from the door of death, and had life given, as it were, afresh into her hands. Arthur’s longed-for career had been checked at its commencement, and all his plans laid waste. Even the life in the vicarage would henceforth take new conditions, for Rob and Oswald would go up to Oxford14 at the beginning of the term, and their place be filled by new pupils. There was something solemnising in the consciousness of change which filled the air. One could never tell what might be the next development. Nothing was too unexpected to happen—since Arthur’s success had ended in failure, and she herself had received Rosalind’s vows15 of love and friendship.
“Good things have happened as well as bad,” acknowledged Peggy honestly; “but how I do hate changes! The new pupils may be the nicest boys in the world, but no one will ever—ever be like Rob, and I’d rather Arthur had been a soldier than anything in the wide world. I wish one could go on being young for ever and ever. It’s when you grow old that all these troubles and changes come upon you.” And Peggy sighed and wagged her head, oppressed with the weight of fifteen years.
It was a relief to hear the clatter16 of horses’ hoofs17, and the sound of voices in the hall, which proved that the church-goers had returned home. Mr and Mrs Asplin had been driven home from church by Lord and Lady Darcy, and the next moment they were in the room, and greeting Peggy with demonstrative affection.
“We couldn’t go home without coming to see you, dear,” said Lady Darcy fondly. “Rosalind is walking with the rest, and will be here in a few minutes. A merry Christmas to you, darling, and many, many of them. I’ve brought you a little present which I hope you will like. It’s a bangle bracelet—quite a simple one that you can wear every day—and you must think of me sometimes when you put it on.”
She touched the spring of a little morocco case as she spoke18, and there on the satin lining19 lay a band of gold, dependent from which hung the sweetest little locket in the world—heart-shaped, studded with pearls, and guarding a ring of hair beneath the glass shield.
Lady Darcy pointed20 to it in silence—her eyes filling with tears, as they invariably did on any reference to Rosalind’s accident, and Peggy’s cheeks flushed with pleasure.
“I can’t thank you! I really can’t,” she said. “It is too lovely. You couldn’t possibly have given me anything I liked better. I have a predilection21 for jewellery, and the little locket is too sweet, dangling22 on that chain! I do love to have something that waggles!” She held up her arm as she spoke, shaking the locket to and fro with a childlike enjoyment, while the two ladies watched her with tender amusement. Lord Darcy had not spoken since his first greeting, but now he came forward, and linking his arm in Peggy’s led her to the farther end of the room.
“I have no present for you, my dear—I could not think of one that was good enough—but yesterday I really think I hit on something that would please you. Robert told us how keenly you were feeling your brother’s disappointment, and that he was undecided what to try next. Now, I believe I can help him there. I have influence in the Foreign Office, and can ensure him an opening when he is ready for it, if your father agrees that it is desirable. Would that please you, Peggy? If I can help your brother, will it go some little way towards paying the debt I owe you?”
“Oh–h!” cried Peggy rapturously. “Oh!” She clasped Lord Darcy’s hands in her own and gazed at him with dilated23 eyes. “Can you do it? Will you do it? There is nothing in all the world I should like so much. Help Arthur—give him a good chance—and I shall bless you for ever and ever! I could never thank you enough—”
“Well, well, I will write to your father and see what he has to say. I can promise the lad a start at least, and after that his future will be in his own hands, where I think we may safely leave it. Master Arthur is one of the fortunate being’s who has an ‘open sesame’ to all hearts. Mr Asplin assures me that he is as good at work as at play; I have not seen that side of his character, but he has always left a most pleasing impression on my mind, most pleasing.” The old lord smiled to himself, and his eyes took a dreamy expression, as if he were recalling to memory the handsome face and strong manly24 presence of the young fellow of whom he was speaking. “He has been a favourite at our house for some years now, and I shall be glad to do him a service; but remember, Peggy, that when I propose this help, it is, in the first instance at least, for your sake, not his. I tell you this because I think it will give you pleasure to feel that you have been the means of helping25 your brother. Talk it over with him some time when you are alone together, and then he can come up and see me. To-day we must leave business alone. Here they come! I thought they would not be long after us—”
Even as he spoke voices sounded from the hall, there was a clatter of feet over the tiled flooring, and Mellicent dashed into the room.
“P–P–P–Postman!” she stammered26 breathlessly. “He is coming! Round the corner! Heaps of letters! Piles of parcels! A hand-cart, and a boy to help him! Here in five minutes! Oh! oh! oh!” She went rushing back to the door, and Rosalind came forward, looking almost her old beautiful self, with her cheeks flushed by the cold air, and the fur collar of her jacket turned up so as to hide the scarred cheek.
“Merry Christmas, Rosalind! How—how nice you look!” cried Peggy, looking up and down the dainty figure with more pleasure in the sight than she could have believed possible a few weeks before. After being accustomed for four long weeks to gaze at those perfectly27 cut features, Esther’s long chin and Mellicent’s retroussé nose had been quite a trial to her artistic28 sensibilities on her return to the vicarage. It was like having a masterpiece taken down from the walls and replaced by an inferior engraving29. She gave a sigh of satisfaction as she looked once more at Rosalind’s face.
“Mewwy Chwistmas, Peggy! I’ve missed you fwightfully. I’ve not been to church, but I dwove down to meet the others, and came to see you. I had to see you on Chwistmas Day. I’ve had lovely pwesents, and there are more to come. Mother has given you the bwacelet, I see. Is it what you like?”
“My dear, I love it. I’m fearfully addicted30 to jewellery. I had to put it on at once, and it looks quite elegant on top of the bandages! I’m inexpressibly obliged. I’ve got heaps of things—books, scent31, glove-box, writing-case, a big box coming from India, and—don’t tell her—an apron32 from Mellicent! The most awful thing. I can’t think where she found it. Yellow cloth with dog-roses worked in filoselle! Imagine me in a yellow apron with spotty roses around the brim!”
“He! he! I can’t! I weally can’t. It’s too widiculous!” protested Rosalind. “She sent me a twine33 bag made of netted cotton. It’s awfully34 useful if you use twine, but I never do. Don’t say I said so. Who got the night-dwess bag with the two shades of blue that didn’t match?”
“Esther! You should have seen her face!” whispered Peggy roguishly, and the girls went into peals35 of laughter, which brought Robert hurrying across the room to join them.
“Now then, Rosalind; when you have quite done, I should like to speak to Peggy. The compliments of the season to you, Mariquita; I hope I see you well.”
Peggy pursed up her lips, and looked him up and down with her dancing hazel eyes.
“Most noble sir, the heavens rain blessings36 on you—Oh, my goodness, there’s the postman!” she said all in one breath; and the partners darted37 forward side by side towards the front door, where the old postman was already standing38, beaming all over his weatherbeaten face, as he began turning out the letters and calling out the names on the envelopes.
“Asplin, Asplin, Saville, Asplin, Saville, Saville, Miss Peggy Saville, Miss Mellercent Asplin, Miss Saville, Miss M. Saville, Miss Peggy Saville.”
So the list ran on, with such a constant repetition of the same name that Max exclaimed in disgust, “Who is this Miss Peggy Saville that we hear so much about? She’s a greedy thing, whoever she may be;” and Mellicent whined39 out, “I wish I had been at a boarding-school! I wish my relatives lived abroad. There will be none left for me by the time she has finished.” Then Arthur thrust forward his mischievous40 face, and put in a stern inquiry—
“Forbes! Where’s that registered letter? That letter with the hundred-pound note. Don’t say you haven’t got it, for I know better. Hand it over now, without any more bother.”
The old postman gave a chuckle41 of amusement, for this was a standing joke renewed every Christmas that Arthur had spent at the vicarage.
“’Tasn’t come ter-day, Muster42 Saville. Missed the post. ’Twill be coming ter-morrer morning certain!”
“Forbes!” croaked43 Arthur solemnly. “Reflect! You have a wife and children. This is a serious business. It’s ruin, Forbes, that’s what it is. R-u-i-n, my friend! Be advised by me, and give it up. The hundred pounds is not worth it, and besides I need it badly. Don’t deprive a man of his inheritance!”
“Bless yer rart, I’d bring it yer with pleasure rif I could! Nobody’d bring it quicker ran I would!” cried Forbes, who like everyone else adored the handsome young fellow who was always ready with a joke and a kindly44 word. “It’s comin’ for the Noo Year, sir. You mark my words. There’s a deal of luck waitin’ for yer in the Noo Year!”
Arthur’s laugh ended in a sigh, but he thanked the old man for his good wishes, tipped him even more lavishly45 than usual, and followed his companions to the drawing-room to examine their treasures.
Parcels were put on one side to await more leisurely46 inspection47, but cards and letters were opened at once, and Rob seated himself by Peggy’s side as she placed the pile of envelopes on a table in the corner.
“We are partners, you know,” he reminded her, “so I think I am entitled to a share in these. What a lot of cards! Who on earth are the senders?”
“My godfathers, and my godmothers, and all my relatives and friends. The girls at school and some of the teachers. This fat one is from ‘Buns’—Miss Baker48, the one whose Sunday hat I squashed. She used to say that I was sent to her as wholesome49 discipline, to prevent her being too happy as a hard-worked teacher in a ladies’ school, but she wept bucketfuls when I came away. I liked Buns! This is from Marjorie Riggs, my chum. She had a squint50, but a most engaging disposition51. This is from Kate Strong: now if there is a girl in the world for whom I cherish an aversion, it is Katie Strong! She is what I call a specious52 pig, and why she wanted to send me a Christmas card I simply can’t imagine. We were on terms of undying hatred54. This is from Miss Moss55, the pupil teacher. She had chilblains, poor dear, and spoke through her dose. ‘You busn’t do it, Peggy, you really busn’t. It’s bost adoying!’ Then I did it again, you know, and she sniggered and tried to look cross. This is—I don’t know who this is from! It’s a man’s writing. It looks like a business letter—London postmark—and something printed in white on the seal. What is it? ‘The Pic–Pic–Piccadilly’—Robert!” Peggy’s voice grew shrill56 with excitement. “The Piccadilly Magazine.”
“Wh–at!” Robert grabbed at the envelope, read the words himself, and stared at her with sparkling eyes. “It is! It’s the prize, Mariquita! It must be. What else would they write about? Open it and see. Quick! Shall I do it for you?”
“Yes, yes!” cried Peggy breathlessly. She craned her head forward as Rob tore open the envelope, and grasped his arm with both hands. Together they read the typewritten words, together they gasped57 and panted, and shrieked59 aloud in joy. “We’ve done it! We have! We’ve won the prize! Thirty pounds! Bravo, Rob! Now you can buy your microscope!”—“Good old Mariquita, it’s all your doing. Don’t speak to us; we are literary people, far above ordinary commonplace creatures like you. Thir–ty pounds! made by our own honest toil60. What do you think of that, I’d like to know?”
Each member of the audience thought something different, and said it amid a scene of wild excitement. The elders were pleased and proud, though not above improving the occasion by warnings against secret work, over-anxiety, midnight journeys, etcetera. Mellicent exclaimed, “How jolly! Now you will be able to give presents for the New Year as well as Christmas;” and Arthur said, “Dear Peggums! I always loved you; I took the ‘will,’ you know, without any grumbling61, and now you can follow up with the deed as quickly as you like!” Each one wanted to hold the precious document in his own hands, to read it with his own eyes, and it was handed round and round to be exclaimed over in accents of wonder and admiration62, while Rob beamed, and Peggy tossed her pigtail over her shoulder, holding her little head at an angle of complacent63 satisfaction.
The moment of triumph was very sweet—all the sweeter because of the sorrows of the last few weeks. The partners forgot all the hard work, worry, and exhaustion64, and remembered only the joy of success and hope fulfilled. Robert said little in the way of thanks, preferring to wait until he could tell Peggy of his gratitude65 without an audience to criticise66 his words; but when his mother began to speak of leaving, it was he who reminded Mrs Asplin of the promise that the invalid67 should have her first walk on Christmas Day.
“Let us go on ahead, and take her with us until the carriage overtakes us. It will do her no harm. It’s bright and dry—”
“Oh, mater, yes! I told Peg I would take her out,” chimed in Arthur, starting from his seat by Rosalind’s side, and looking quite distressed68 because he had momentarily forgotten his promise. “Wrap her up well, and we’ll take care of her. The air will do her good.”
“I think it will, but you must not go far—not an inch beyond the crossroads. Come, Peggy, and I’ll dress you myself. I can’t trust you to put on enough wraps.” Mrs Asplin whisked the girl out of the room, and wrapped her up to such an extent that when she came downstairs again she could only puff69 and gasp58 above her muffler, declare that she was choking, and fan herself with her muff. Choking or not, the eyes of the companions brightened as they looked at her, for the scarlet70 tam-o’-shanter was set at a rakish angle on the dark little head, and Peggy the invalid seemed to have made way for the Peggy of old, with dimpling cheeks and the light of mischief71 in her eyes.
The moment that Mrs Asplin stopped fumbling72 with her wraps, she was out at the door, opening her mouth to drink in the fresh chill air, and Robert was at her side before anyone had a chance of superseding73 him.
“Umph! Isn’t it good? I’m stifling74 for a blow. My lungs are sore for want of exercise. I was longing, longing to get out. Robert, do you realise it? We have won the prize! Can you believe it? It is almost too good to be true. It’s the best present of all. Now you can buy your microscope, and get on with your work as you never could before!”
“Yes, and it’s all your doing, Mariquita. I could not have pulled it off without your help. If I make anything out of my studies, it will be your doing too. I’ll put it down to you, and thank you for it all my life.”
“H–m! I don’t think I deserve so much praise, but I like it. It’s very soothing,” said Peggy reflectively. “I’m very happy about it, and I needed something to make me happy, for I felt as blue as indigo75 this morning. We seem to have come to the end of so many things, and I hate ends. There is this disappointment about Arthur, which spoils all the old plans, and the break-up of our good times here together. I shall miss Oswald. He was a dear old dandy, and his ties were quite an excitement in life; but I simply can’t imagine what the house will be like without you, Rob!”
“I shall be here for some weeks every year, and I’ll run down for a day or two whenever I can. It won’t be good-bye.”
“I know—I know! but you will never be one of us again, living in the house, joining in all our jokes. It will be quite a different thing. And you will grow up so quickly at Oxford, and be a man before we know where we are.”
“So will you—a woman at least. You are fifteen in January. At seventeen, girls put their hair up and wear long dresses. You will look older than I do, and give yourself as many airs as if you were fifty. I know what girls of seventeen are like. I’ve met lots of them, and they say, ‘That boy!’ and toss their heads as if they were a dozen years older than fellows of their own age. I expect you will be as bad as the rest, but you needn’t try to snub me. I won’t stand it.”
“You won’t have a chance, for I shan’t be here. As soon as my education is finished I am going out to India, to stay until father retires and we come home to settle. So after to-day—”
“After to-day—the deluge76! Peggy, I didn’t tell you before, but I’m off to-morrow to stay in town until I go up to Oxford on the fourteenth. The pater wants to have me with him, so I shan’t see you again for some months. Of course I am glad to be in town for most things, but—”
“Yes, but!” repeated Peggy, and turned a wan53 little face upon him. “Oh, Rob, it is changing quickly I never thought it would be so soon as this. So it is good-bye. No wonder I felt so blue this morning. It is good-bye for ever to the old life. We shall meet again, oh yes! but it will be different. Some day when I’m old and grown-up I will see in a newspaper the name of a distinguished77 naturalist78 and discoverer, and say, ‘I used to know him once. He was not at all proud. He used to pull my hair like any ordinary mortal.’
“Some day I shall enter a ballroom79, and see a little lady sitting by the door waving her hands in the air, and using words a mile long, and shall say to myself, ‘Do my eyes deceive me? Is it indeed the Peggy Pickle80 of the Past?’ and my host will say, ‘My good sir, that is the world-famous authoress, Mariquita de Ponsonby Plantagenet Saville!’ Stevenson, I assure you, is not in it for flow of language, and she is so proud of herself that she won’t speak to anyone under a belted earl.”
“That sounds nice!” said Peggy approvingly. “I should like that; but it wouldn’t be a ball, you silly boy—it would be a conversazione, where all the clever and celebrated81 people of London were gathered together, ‘To have the honour of meeting Miss Saville.’ There would be quite a number of people whom we knew among the Lions. A very grand Lady Somebody or other, the beauty of the season—Rosalind, of course—all sparkling with diamonds, and leaning on the arm of a distinguished-looking gentleman with orders on his breast. That’s Arthur. I’m determined82 that he shall have orders. It’s the only thing that could reconcile me to the loss of the Victoria Cross, and a dress-coat is so uninteresting without trimmings! A fat lady would be sitting in a corner prattling83 about half a dozen subjects all in one moment—that’s Mellicent; and a tall, lean lady in spectacles would be imparting useful information to a dandy with an eyeglass stuck in one eye—that’s Esther and Oswald! Oh dear, I wonder—I wonder—I wonder! It’s like a story-book, Rob, and we are at the end of the first volume. How much shall we have to do with each other in the second and third; and what is going to happen next, and how, and when?”
“We—we have to part, that’s the next thing,” said Rob sadly. “Here comes the carriage, and Arthur is shouting for us to stop. It’s good-bye, for the present, Mariquita; there’s no help for it!”
“At the crossroads!” said Peggy slowly, her eye wandering to the sign-board which marked the paths branching north, south, east, and west. She stopped short and stood gazing into his face, her eyes big and solemn, the wind blowing her hair into loose little curls beneath her scarlet cap, her dramatic mind seizing eagerly on the significance of the position. “At the crossroads, Rob, to go our different ways! Good-bye, good-bye! I hate to say it. You—you won’t forget me, and like the horrid84 boys at college better than me, will you, Rob?”
Robert gave a short, strangled little laugh.
“I think—not! Cheer up, partner! We will meet again, and have a better time together than we have had yet. The third volume is always more exciting than the first. I say we shall, and you know when I make up my mind to a thing, it has to be done!”
“Ah, but how?” sighed Peggy faintly. “But how?” Vague prophecies of the future were not much comfort to her in this moment of farewell. She wanted something more definite; but Rob had no time to enter into details, for even as she spoke the carriage drew up beside them, and, while the occupants congratulated Peggy on having walked so far and so well, he could only grip her hand, and take his place in silence beside his sister.
Lady Darcy bent85 forward to smile farewell; Rosalind waved her hand, and then they were off again, driving swiftly homewards, while Peggy stood watching, a solitary86 figure upon the roadside.
Arthur and his companions hurried forward to join her, afraid lest she should be tired, and overcome with grief by the parting with her friend and partner.
“Poor little Peg! She won’t like it a bit,” said Arthur. “She’s crying! I’m sure she is.”
“She is putting her handkerchief to her eyes,” said Mellicent.
“We will give her an arm apiece, and take her straight back,” said Max anxiously. “It’s a shame to have left the poor little soul alone!”
They stared with troubled eyes at the little figure which stood with its back turned towards them, in an attitude of rigid87 stillness. There was something pathetic about that stillness, with just the flutter of the tell-tale handkerchief, to hint at the quivering face that was hidden from view. The hearts of Peggy’s companions were very tender over her at that moment; but even as they planned words of comfort and cheer, she wheeled round suddenly and walked back to meet them.
It was an unusually mild morning for the season of the year, and the sun was shining from a cloudless sky. Its rays fell full upon Peggy’s face as she advanced—upon reddened eyes, trembling lips, and two large tears trickling88 down her cheeks. It was undeniable that she was crying, but she carried her head well back upon her shoulders, rather courting than avoiding observation, and as she drew nearer it became abundantly evident that Peggy had retired89 in honour of Mariquita, and that consolations90 had better be deferred91 to a more promising92 occasion.
“A most lacerating wind!” she said coolly. “It draws the moisture to my eyes. Quite too piercingly cold, I call it!” and even Mellicent had not the courage to contradict.
And here, dear readers, we leave Peggy Saville at a milestone93 of her life. In what direction the crossroads led the little company of friends, and what windings94 of the path brought them once more together, remains95 still to be told. It was a strange journey, and in their travelling they met many friends with whom all young people are acquainted. The giant barred the way, and had to be overcome before the palace could be reached; the Good Spirit intervened at the right moment to prevent calamity96, the prince and princess stepped forward and made life beautiful; for life is the most wonderful fairy tale that was ever written, and full of magic to those who have eyes to see.
Farewell, then, to Peggy Pickle; but if it be the wish of those who have followed her so far, we may meet again with Mariquita Saville, in the glory of sweet and twenty, and learn from her the secret of the years.
The End.
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interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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festive
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| adj.欢宴的，节日的 | |
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peg
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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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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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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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toddle
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consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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contingency
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| n.意外事件，可能性 | |
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epoch
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| n.(新)时代；历元 | |
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Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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vows
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| 誓言( vow的名词复数 )； 郑重宣布，许愿 | |
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clatter
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| v./n.(使)发出连续而清脆的撞击声 | |
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hoofs
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| n.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的名词复数 )v.（兽的）蹄，马蹄( hoof的第三人称单数 ) | |
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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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19
lining
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| n.衬里，衬料 | |
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20
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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21
predilection
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| n.偏好 | |
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22
dangling
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| 悬吊着( dangle的现在分词 )； 摆动不定； 用某事物诱惑…； 吊胃口 | |
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23
dilated
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| adj.加宽的，扩大的v.（使某物）扩大，膨胀，张大( dilate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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24
manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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25
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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26
stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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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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artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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engraving
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| n.版画；雕刻（作品）；雕刻艺术；镌版术v.在（硬物）上雕刻（字，画等）( engrave的现在分词 )；将某事物深深印在（记忆或头脑中） | |
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30
addicted
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| adj.沉溺于....的，对...上瘾的 | |
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31
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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twine
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| v.搓，织，编饰；（使）缠绕 | |
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awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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peals
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| n.（声音大而持续或重复的）洪亮的响声( peal的名词复数 )；隆隆声；洪亮的钟声；钟乐v.（使）（钟等）鸣响，（雷等）发出隆隆声( peal的第三人称单数 ) | |
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36
blessings
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| n.（上帝的）祝福( blessing的名词复数 )；好事；福分；因祸得福 | |
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darted
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| v.投掷，投射( dart的过去式和过去分词 )；向前冲，飞奔 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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whined
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| v.哀号( whine的过去式和过去分词 )；哀诉，诉怨 | |
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40
mischievous
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| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
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41
chuckle
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| vi.／n.轻声笑，咯咯笑 | |
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42
muster
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| v.集合，收集，鼓起，激起；n.集合，检阅，集合人员，点名册 | |
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croaked
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| v.呱呱地叫( croak的过去式和过去分词 )；用粗的声音说 | |
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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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lavishly
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| adv.慷慨地，大方地 | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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baker
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| n.面包师 | |
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wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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squint
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| v. 使变斜视眼, 斜视, 眯眼看, 偏移, 窥视; n. 斜视, 斜孔小窗; adj. 斜视的, 斜的 | |
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51
disposition
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| n.性情，性格；意向，倾向；排列，部署 | |
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specious
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| adj.似是而非的；adv.似是而非地 | |
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53
wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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55
moss
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| n.苔，藓，地衣 | |
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shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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gasped
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| v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 )；喘息；倒抽气；很想要 | |
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gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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toil
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| vi.辛劳工作，艰难地行动；n.苦工，难事 | |
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grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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complacent
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| adj.自满的；自鸣得意的 | |
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exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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66
criticise
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| v.批评，评论；非难 | |
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67
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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distressed
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| 痛苦的 | |
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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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scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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71
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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73
superseding
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| 取代，接替( supersede的现在分词 ) | |
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74
stifling
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| a.令人窒息的 | |
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75
indigo
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| n.靛青，靛蓝 | |
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76
deluge
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| n./vt.洪水，暴雨，使泛滥 | |
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77
distinguished
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| adj.卓越的，杰出的，著名的 | |
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78
naturalist
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| n.博物学家(尤指直接观察动植物者) | |
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79
ballroom
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| n.舞厅 | |
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80
pickle
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| n.腌汁，泡菜；v.腌，泡 | |
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81
celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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82
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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83
prattling
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| v.（小孩般）天真无邪地说话( prattle的现在分词 )；发出连续而无意义的声音；闲扯；东拉西扯 | |
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84
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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85
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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86
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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87
rigid
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| adj.严格的，死板的；刚硬的，僵硬的 | |
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88
trickling
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| n.油画底色含油太多而成泡沫状突起v.滴( trickle的现在分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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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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deferred
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| adj.延期的，缓召的v.拖延，延缓，推迟( defer的过去式和过去分词 )；服从某人的意愿，遵从 | |
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92
promising
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| adj.有希望的，有前途的 | |
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93
milestone
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| n.里程碑；划时代的事件 | |
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94
windings
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| （道路、河流等）蜿蜒的，弯曲的( winding的名词复数 )； 缠绕( wind的现在分词 )； 卷绕； 转动（把手） | |
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95
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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