"I'm never cheerful," he had affirmed, "and that's why I require you always to be so. If that seems to you unreasonable11 and illogical, you're stupid. Give the matter a little thought and light may come to you. You'll have plenty of chance, living with me, to develop what little thinking powers you may have—much more chance than you'd ever have in a school for young ladies, where you no doubt think I ought to send you for the next two or three years. Schools for young ladies! Ha!" he laughed sardonically12. "Ye gods! Thank me for rescuing you from the fate of being 'finished' at one of them! Well named 'finishing schools!' They certainly are a girl's finish so far as common sense, capacity for usefulness, and ability to think for herself are concerned! And there actually are parents of daughters who seriously regard such schools as institutions of 'education!' Yes, education, by God! You'll get more education, my girl, from one week of my conversation than you would from a decade of one of those parasite13 factories!"
It was in the library at Berkeley Hill, the stately old country home which for seven generations had belonged to the Berkeley family, that this preliminary interview had taken place, her uncle in his reclining chair before a great open hearth14, the firelight playing upon his pallid15, intellectual face crowned with thick, white hair, and upon the emaciated16 hands clasping a volume on his knee. Repellently harsh he seemed to the shrinking maiden17 standing19 before him in her deep mourning, to be inspected, appraised20, and catechised; for in spite of the fact that she had been born and brought up in the city of Charleston, only two miles away, her uncle had never seen enough of her to know anything about her.
Perceiving, now, how the girl shrank from him, his eyes sparkled; there was something ghoulish in his love of cowing those who served him. For the past ten years he had had no woman near him save hired attendants who cringed before his bullying21.
"A human creature who lets itself be bullied22 deserves no better," was his theory, and he never spared a sycophant23.
"The day I have you weeping on my hands," he warned his niece as she stood pale and silent before him, "or even looking as though you were trying not to weep, out you go!"
The fact that the girl was scarcely more than a child, that she was alone and penniless, did not soften24 him.
"She's old enough to show her mettle25 if she has any. If she hasn't, no loss if she's crushed in the grind of serving me, for I'm useful, and shall be while I breathe and think."
"Well, what have you to say for yourself, wench?" he demanded when she had heard without a word his uncompromising statements as to what he would require of her in return for the "home" he would give her.
"I accept all your unqualified conditions, Uncle Osmond," she answered quietly, no tremor26 in her voice; and the musical, soft drawl of her tone fell with an oddly soothing27 and pleasing effect upon the invalid's rasped nerves; "if you'll accept my one condition."
Her uncle's white head jerked like a startled animal's. "What? What?" he ejaculated after an instant's stunned28 silence. "Your condition? Huh! You making a condition, upon my word! What pertness is this? A 'condition' upon which you'll accept my charity!"
"Not your 'charity.' The self-supporting position of your cheerful, uncomplaining, industrious29, capable, untiring, companionable, intelligent chattel," came the musical, lazy drawl in reply. "My condition is that you solemnly promise never again to call me a 'wench.'"
"I'll call you what I see fit to call you! If you're so damned squeamish, I won't have you near me! I'd be hurling30 books at your head!"
"I'm not 'damned squeamish,' Uncle Osmond, indeed I'm not. I really rather like the way you swear, it's so manly31 and exciting. But I won't be called a 'wench.'"
"Why not? I won't have my liberty of speech hampered32!"
"Very well, then, Uncle Osmond, dear, I won't come."
"You shan't come! I wouldn't have you in the house, Miss Pernicketty!"
"Good-bye, then. I'm very sorry for you, Uncle Osmond. I'm sure the loss is yours. I would have been very kind to you."
"Sorry for me! You think well of yourself, don't you, wench?"
"At least so well that I'll go out sewing by the day, or stand in a store, or go on the stage, or turn evangelist (I've heard there's money in that) before I'll be called a wench!"
"What in hell do you imagine the word means?"
"I don't know what it means, but I won't be addressed as a wench."
"Get the dictionary. Look it up."
"But I won't be called a wench no matter what it means."
"Won't be called one! You dictate33 to me? Understand, girl, nobody dictates34 to me! Read Shakespeare's sonnet35, Lucrece:
"'Know, gentle wench, it small avails my mood.'
No offence in the word, you see, my authority being our greatest English poet."
"Good-bye, Uncle Osmond," she said, turning away and walking toward the door.
"Come back and behave yourself!"
She came back at once. "All right—and don't ever forget your promise."
"I promised nothing. I never make promises."
"Your acceptance of my condition is a promise."
"Acceptance of your condition!" He choked and spluttered over it.
"And it's a mighty36 small condition considering all I'm going to do for you with cheerfulness, amiability37, a pleasant smile——"
"Hold your tongue and speak when you are spoken to!" he growled38, apparently39 furious, but secretly exulting40 at the child's refreshing41 fearlessness with him.
It had been an instinct of self-preservation that had led Margaret to demonstrate to her uncle, in that very first hour with him, that the line would have to be drawn42 somewhere in his browbeating43. And the word "wench" had served her purpose. Thereafter, in the eight years that she lived with him, docile44 and patient as she always was, he never forgot, and she never had to remind him, that there was a limit past which he could not safely venture in the indulgence of his tendency to tyrannize.
But her life was hard; most girls would have found its monotony and self-sacrifice unbearable45; its gloomy environment in the great empty barn of a house too depressing; its close confinement46 within the narrow limits of the unkept grounds, overgrown with weeds and bushes, and dark with big trees and a high hedge of hemlocks47, as bad as any jail. There were sometimes weeks at a stretch during which she saw no human being save her uncle and the old negro couple who had lived on the place for a quarter of a century; for though Harriet and her husband lived in Charleston, her uncle would spare her so seldom to visit them, and was so exacting48 as to her speedy return to him that she soon fell into the way of confining her intercourse49 with her sister almost entirely50 to a weekly exchange of letters.
In spite, however, of her isolation51 Margaret felt that there were compensations in her lot. She had resources within herself in her love of books, and she found in her uncle's rich intellectual equipment, of which he freely gave her the benefit in their daily association, a stimulus53, a variety, and even an excitement that meant much more to her than the usual girl's diversions of frocks, parties, and beaus would have meant. It is true she often longed for a congenial companion of her own age, she hungered for affection, she suffered keenly in her occasional feverish54 paroxysms of restlessness, and there were times when the surging fountains of her youth threatened to break down the barriers that imprisoned55 a nature that was both large and impassioned.
"She's temperamental enough!" was her uncle's early conclusion as, from day to day, the girl's mind and heart were unfolded to his keen observation.
Her rare periods of passionate56 discontent, however, though leaving her spent and listless for a time after they had passed over her, did not embitter57 her. There was a fund of native sweetness in Margaret's soul that even her life with cynical58 old Osmond Berkeley could not blight59. That philosopher marvelled60 often at his inability to spoil her, remarkably61 open as he found her young mind to the ideas and theories which he delighted in impressing upon her. It was indeed amazing how readily she would select from the intellectual feast daily spread before her what was wholesome62 and pure and reject what was morbid63.
"That's right," he would approve when she would frankly64 refuse to accept a dogma laid down to her. "Better think for yourself, even though you think wrongly, than do as the other females of the species do—believe whatever they are told to believe—or, worse, what it suits their personal interests to believe. Be everlastingly65 thankful to me that I encourage you to think for yourself, to face the facts of life. George Meredith writes, 'The education of girls is to make them think that facts are their enemies.' You shall not escape some knowledge of facts if I can help it!"
"It's awfully66 nice of you to care so much about my mind, Uncle Osmond," she gratefully responded. "To really care for anything about me. I do love to be mothered and coddled and made much of!"
"Huh! 'Mothered and coddled and made much of!' You're at the wrong shop! And don't let me hear you misuse67 that word 'nice.'"
"I insist upon being pleased at your caring at least about my mind! I'd be grateful even to a dog that was good to me."
"I'm not a dog, and I'm never so 'good' to any one that you could notice it particularly."
"Don't try to make yourself out worse than you are; you're bad enough, honey, in all conscience!"
"Hold your impudence68 and bring me Volume Third of Kant's 'Critique.'"
"Oh, dear!" Margaret sighed as she obeyed, "is it going to be that awful dope to-day? I hoped up to the last you'd choose an exciting novel. Do you know I don't think it's womanly to understand Kant's 'Critique.'"
"I've no desire to be womanly. Do as I tell you."
In addition to finding his niece capable and patient as a nurse and housekeeper, Margaret interested him more than any individual he had known in many years. He secretly blessed the hour when she had come into his sombre life to enliven and, yes, enrich it. Not for worlds, however, would he have let her know what she was to him.
There were rare moments when he was actually moved to an expression of gratitude69 and tenderness for his long-suffering victim; but Margaret's touchingly70 eager response to such overtures71 (heart-hungry as she was in her loneliness) while gratifying him, had always the effect of making him promptly72 withdraw into his hard shell again and to counteract73, by his most trying exactions, his momentary74 softness; so that in time she learned to dread75 any least sign of amiability.
She did not know the full extent of her uncle's selfishness in his treatment of her: how ruthlessly he schemed to avert76 the danger which he thought often threatened him of losing her to some one of the half-dozen middle-aged77 or elderly gentlemen of learning who had the habit of visiting him in his retirement78 and who, to the last man of them, whether married or single, adored his niece. It seemed that no man could lay eyes on her without promptly loving her (what men called love). Even his physician, happily married and the father of four lusty boys, was, Berkeley could see, quite mad about her, though Margaret never discovered it; she only thought him extremely agreeable and kind and liked him accordingly. Indeed the only fun she ever got out of this train of admirers was an occasional hour of liberty while they were closeted with her uncle; for he took care, as soon as he realized how alluring79 she was to most men, to have her out of the way when his acquaintances dropped in, a deprivation80 to his own comfort for which the visitor paid in an extra dose of pessimism81 and irony82.
"When that child falls in love," Berkeley once told himself, "as of course so temperamental a girl is bound to do sooner or later, it will go hard with her. Let her wait, however, until I'm gone. Time enough for her then. I need her. Couldn't endure life without her now that I'm used to her!"
So he not only gave her no opportunity to meet marriageable men, he tried to unsex her, to engraft upon her mind his own cynicism as to the thing named love, his conviction of its gross selfishness, his scorn of sentimentality and of "the hypocrisy83 that would idealize an ephemeral emotion grounded in base, egoistic appetite."
"All 'love,' all attraction of whatever nature, is grounded in sex," he would affirm. "The universe is upheld and constantly recreated by the ceaseless action of so-called love. A purely84 natural, physical phenomenon, therefore. There is not in life such a thing as a disinterested85 love."
"A mother's love?" Margaret once suggested in reply to this avowal86.
"Entirely selfish. She loves her child as part of herself; all her pride and ambition for it are because it is hers."
"Well, if you call a mother's love selfish, there's no use saying anything more."
"And not to mince87 matters," he reaffirmed, "I want you to know for your own protection that a man's love for a woman is that of a beast of prey88 for its victim!"
"But I'm so safe here, I don't need such protection; I never see a man. No one but learned scholars ever come here."
"'Learned scholars' are not men, then, in your category?"
"Not the interesting wild kind that you warn me against."
"The man, woman, or 'learned scholar,' who has not a devil as well as an angel in his soul, a beast as well as a god, is too limited a creature to see life whole and big and round."
"Am I, then," she inquired with interest, "a devil and a beast as well as an angel and a goddess, do you think?"
"Mostly devil, you! I couldn't stand the angel-goddess combination. Even you, my girl, are wholly selfish; you would not stay with me for one day if it were not that I give you a home. Come, now," he invited, and evidently expected a protest against this assertion.
"Why, of course I shouldn't. Why would I?"
He looked rather blank at this, though privately89 he never failed to find her honesty refreshing.
"I never understood," she added, "that it was a question of affection between you and me, did you, my dear?"
"'Affection!'" he sneered90 bitterly. "Affection for ourselves!"
"Of course. You wouldn't give me a bright and happy home like this if you did not need me to wait on you thirty-six hours out of the twenty-four with a cheerful, Cheshire-cat smile, and all for my food, bed, and two new frocks and hats a year."
"Have you no appreciation91, girl, of the liberal education it is for you to be with me, to be permitted to read to me, to have such a library as mine at your command?"
"Yes, indeed, Uncle Osmond."
"Well, then?"
"But I don't stay here for the pleasure of your amiable92 society, dear," she assured him, patting his hand. "You're far too much like your old Scotch93 Thomas Carlyle that you admire so much. My goodness, what a life Jane must have led with that old curmudgeon94!"
"Hold your impudent95 tongue!"
"Yes, dear."
"Don't speak to me again to-day!"
"Thanks; I'm so glad you don't also require me to be brilliantly conversational96. I'd really have to charge extra for that, Uncle Osmond."
"Get me my eggnog!"
In spite of all Osmond Berkeley's precautions, however, Margaret did, of course, go through the intense and fiery97 ordeal98 of "falling in love"; for when a maiden's budding soul begins to unfold to the beauty of life, to throb99 and thrill before the wonder and mystery of the universe, no walled imprisonment can check the course of nature—she is bound to suffer the bitter-sweet experience of becoming enamoured of something, it doesn't much matter what; a cigar-shop Indian will suffice if nothing more lively comes her way. For circumstances are, after all, nothing but "machinery100, just meant to give thy life its bent101." Berkeley, priding himself on his knowledge of sex-psychology, knowing that girls isolated102 in boarding-schools fall in love with their woman teachers, and in colleges with each other, nevertheless persuaded himself that he could, in this instance, defeat nature; that Margaret was being safeguarded too absolutely to admit of her finding any outlet103 whatever for the pent-up emotional current of her womanhood.
But there came to Berkeley Hill one day a stranger, an earnest young minister of Charleston, who, having read a magazine article of Osmond Berkeley's in which "the hysterical104, unwholesome excitement of evangelistic revivals105" was demonstrated to be purely physiological106, wished to remonstrate107 with its author and point out to him that he was grievously mistaken.
One keenly appraising108, glance at the embarrassed, awkward young man as he was shown into the library where Berkeley sat in his armchair before the fire, with Margaret at his side reading to him from a just published work by Josiah Royce, made her uncle decide that it would be superfluous109 to send her from the room—"on account of a creature like this, with no manners, no brains, and an Adam's apple!"
But it was the young man's deadly earnestness in the discussion between these two unequal protagonists110 that impressed itself upon Margaret's hungry imagination; his courage in coming with what he conceived to be his burning message of truth to such a formidable "enemy to truth" as the famous scholar, Dr. Osmond Berkeley. Evidently, the young man's conscience, in spite of his painful shyness, had lashed111 him to this visit, more dreadful than a den18 of lions. There were still, even in these days, it seemed, martyrs113 for religion.
Now, while Margaret of course recognized the intellectual feebleness of the young minister's side of the question which was under fire, nevertheless, before his visit was concluded, his brow wore for her a halo; his thin little voice was rich music to her quivering nerves; his unsophisticated manner the outward sign of a beautiful simplicity114; his Adam's apple a peculiar115 distinction.
Berkeley, as soon as he found his visitor a bore, made short work of him and got rid of him without ceremony. In Margaret's eyes the young man stood up to his rebuffs like a hero and a martyr112.
Her uncle did not notice, upon her return to the library after seeing the young man into the hall, how bright were her eyes, how flushed her cheeks, how sensitive the curve of her lips.
"Ha, ha!" he laughed sardonically, "wouldn't you rather go to hell than have to hear him preach?"
"You laugh like a villain116 in a melodrama117!" retorted Margaret.
"I haven't laughed for twenty years except at damned fools. When did you ever see a melodrama?"
"Aunt Virginia took Harriet and me to see The Two Orphans118 once."
"Damned presumption119 of the fellow to come here and take up my time! He isn't even a gentleman."
"I thought you prided yourself on not being a snob120, Uncle Osmond."
"Don't be stupid. Breeding is breeding."
"Well, what is good breeding if it isn't being courteous121 in your own house? You may call that young man common, but I doubt whether he bullies122 women!"
"You're cross!" he snapped at her. "Look pleasant!" he commanded, bringing his hand down heavily on the arm of his chair.
"I won't!" And for the first and only time in all the eight years of her life with him, Margaret turned upon him with a stamp of her foot.
He stared at her incredulously.
"You call that good breeding, do you, stamping your foot at your benefactor123?"
"'Benefactor?'" Margaret flew across the room and violently turned the pages of the dictionary on a stand in the corner. "'Benefactor,'" she read, '"a doer of kindly124 deeds; a friendly helper.' You see, I'm your benefactor, according to the Standard."
"You're begging the question: is it well-bred for a young lady to stamp her foot?"
"I'm ashamed that I did it, Uncle Osmond, and I beg your pardon."
"Your tone is not contrite125!" he objected. But an unwonted flash in her eyes made him see that this was one of the places where he would have to "draw the line."
"You are tired," he said abruptly126. "No wonder, after listening to the braying127 of that evangelical ass52 for nearly an hour! Put on your wraps and take a run about the grounds."
As with a look of relief Margaret turned to leave the room, he added in a tone that was almost gentle, "Put on your heavy coat, child, the air is very raw."
"Thank you, Uncle Osmond."
"And come back looking cheerful."
"I shall have to turn Christian128 Scientist if I'm to be cheerful under all circumstances—and you say you hate Christian Scientists because they are always so damned pleasant."
"You can't turn Christian Scientist and live in the same house with me!"
"But, Uncle Osmond, dear, I'm beginning to see that a Christian Scientist is the only thing that could live in the same house with you!"
With that she left him, to a half-hour of anxious consideration of her final thrust; for the one dread that hung over his life was the possibility of Margaret's deserting him.
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1
housekeeper
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| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
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irritable
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| adj.急躁的；过敏的；易怒的 | |
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eminent
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| adj.显赫的，杰出的，有名的，优良的 | |
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immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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precipitated
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| v.（突如其来地）使发生( precipitate的过去式和过去分词 )；促成；猛然摔下；使沉淀 | |
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imprisonment
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| n.关押，监禁，坐牢 | |
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invalid
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| n.病人，伤残人；adj.有病的，伤残的；无效的 | |
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stranded
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| a.搁浅的，进退两难的 | |
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grudging
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| adj.勉强的，吝啬的 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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unreasonable
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| adj.不讲道理的，不合情理的，过度的 | |
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sardonically
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| adv.讽刺地，冷嘲地 | |
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parasite
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| n.寄生虫；寄生菌；食客 | |
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hearth
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| n.壁炉炉床，壁炉地面 | |
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pallid
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| adj.苍白的，呆板的 | |
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emaciated
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| adj.衰弱的，消瘦的 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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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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appraised
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| v.估价( appraise的过去式和过去分词 )；估计；估量；评价 | |
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bullying
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| v.恐吓，威逼( bully的现在分词 )；豪；跋扈 | |
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bullied
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| adj.被欺负了v.恐吓，威逼( bully的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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sycophant
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| n.马屁精 | |
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soften
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| v.(使)变柔软；(使)变柔和 | |
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mettle
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| n.勇气，精神 | |
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tremor
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| n.震动，颤动，战栗，兴奋，地震 | |
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soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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stunned
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| adj. 震惊的，惊讶的 动词stun的过去式和过去分词 | |
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industrious
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| adj.勤劳的，刻苦的，奋发的 | |
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hurling
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| n.爱尔兰式曲棍球v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的现在分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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hampered
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| 妨碍，束缚，限制( hamper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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dictate
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| v.口授；(使)听写；指令，指示，命令 | |
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dictates
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| n.命令，规定，要求( dictate的名词复数 )v.大声讲或读( dictate的第三人称单数 )；口授；支配；摆布 | |
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sonnet
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| n.十四行诗 | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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amiability
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| n.和蔼可亲的，亲切的，友善的 | |
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growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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exulting
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| vi. 欢欣鼓舞，狂喜 | |
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refreshing
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| adj.使精神振作的，使人清爽的，使人喜欢的 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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browbeating
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| v.（以言辞或表情）威逼，恫吓( browbeat的现在分词 ) | |
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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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unbearable
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| adj.不能容忍的；忍受不住的 | |
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confinement
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| n.幽禁，拘留，监禁；分娩；限制，局限 | |
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hemlocks
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| 由毒芹提取的毒药( hemlock的名词复数 ) | |
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48
exacting
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| adj.苛求的，要求严格的 | |
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49
intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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50
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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51
isolation
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| n.隔离，孤立，分解，分离 | |
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52
ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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53
stimulus
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| n.刺激，刺激物，促进因素，引起兴奋的事物 | |
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54
feverish
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| adj.发烧的，狂热的，兴奋的 | |
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55
imprisoned
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| 下狱，监禁( imprison的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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56
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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57
embitter
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| v.使苦；激怒 | |
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58
cynical
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| adj.(对人性或动机)怀疑的，不信世道向善的 | |
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59
blight
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| n.枯萎病；造成破坏的因素；vt.破坏，摧残 | |
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60
marvelled
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| v.惊奇，对…感到惊奇( marvel的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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61
remarkably
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| ad.不同寻常地，相当地 | |
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62
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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63
morbid
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| adj.病的；致病的；病态的；可怕的 | |
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64
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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65
everlastingly
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| 永久地，持久地 | |
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66
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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67
misuse
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| n.误用，滥用；vt.误用，滥用 | |
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68
impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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69
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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70
touchingly
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| adv.令人同情地，感人地，动人地 | |
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71
overtures
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| n.主动的表示，提议；（向某人做出的）友好表示、姿态或提议( overture的名词复数 )；（歌剧、芭蕾舞、音乐剧等的）序曲，前奏曲 | |
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72
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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73
counteract
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| vt.对…起反作用，对抗，抵消 | |
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74
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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75
dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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76
avert
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| v.防止，避免；转移(目光、注意力等) | |
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middle-aged
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| adj.中年的 | |
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78
retirement
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| n.退休，退职 | |
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79
alluring
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| adj.吸引人的，迷人的 | |
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80
deprivation
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| n.匮乏；丧失；夺去，贫困 | |
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81
pessimism
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| n.悲观者，悲观主义者，厌世者 | |
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82
irony
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| n.反语，冷嘲；具有讽刺意味的事，嘲弄 | |
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83
hypocrisy
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| n.伪善，虚伪 | |
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84
purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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85
disinterested
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| adj.不关心的，不感兴趣的 | |
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86
avowal
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| n.公开宣称，坦白承认 | |
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87
mince
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| n.切碎物；v.切碎，矫揉做作地说 | |
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88
prey
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| n.被掠食者，牺牲者，掠食；v.捕食，掠夺，折磨 | |
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89
privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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90
sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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91
appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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92
amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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93
scotch
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| n.伤口，刻痕；苏格兰威士忌酒；v.粉碎，消灭，阻止；adj.苏格兰(人)的 | |
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94
curmudgeon
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| n. 脾气暴躁之人，守财奴，吝啬鬼 | |
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95
impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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96
conversational
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| adj.对话的，会话的 | |
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97
fiery
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| adj.燃烧着的，火红的；暴躁的；激烈的 | |
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98
ordeal
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| n.苦难经历，（尤指对品格、耐力的）严峻考验 | |
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99
throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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100
machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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101
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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102
isolated
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| adj.与世隔绝的 | |
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103
outlet
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| n.出口/路；销路；批发商店；通风口；发泄 | |
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104
hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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105
revivals
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| n.复活( revival的名词复数 )；再生；复兴；（老戏多年后）重新上演 | |
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106
physiological
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| adj.生理学的，生理学上的 | |
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107
remonstrate
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| v.抗议，规劝 | |
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108
appraising
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| v.估价( appraise的现在分词 )；估计；估量；评价 | |
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109
superfluous
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| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
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110
protagonists
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| n.（戏剧的）主角( protagonist的名词复数 )；（故事的）主人公；现实事件（尤指冲突和争端的）主要参与者；领导者 | |
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111
lashed
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| adj.具睫毛的v.鞭打( lash的过去式和过去分词 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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112
martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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113
martyrs
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| n.martyr的复数形式；烈士( martyr的名词复数 )；殉道者；殉教者；乞怜者（向人诉苦以博取同情） | |
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114
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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115
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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116
villain
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| n.反派演员，反面人物；恶棍；问题的起因 | |
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117
melodrama
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| n.音乐剧；情节剧 | |
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118
orphans
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| 孤儿( orphan的名词复数 ) | |
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119
presumption
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| n.推测，可能性，冒昧，放肆，[法律]推定 | |
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120
snob
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| n.势利小人，自以为高雅、有学问的人 | |
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121
courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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122
bullies
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| n.欺凌弱小者, 开球 vt.恐吓, 威胁, 欺负 | |
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123
benefactor
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| n. 恩人，行善的人，捐助人 | |
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124
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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125
contrite
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| adj.悔悟了的，后悔的，痛悔的 | |
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126
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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127
braying
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| v.发出驴叫似的声音( bray的现在分词 )；发嘟嘟声；粗声粗气地讲话（或大笑）；猛击 | |
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128
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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