"You seem to have made quite an impression on that sweet young lady, Master Cyrus," said the landlady10, a day or so after I had visited Miss Destiny, "she met me by chance last night and asked me to tell her all about you."
"I hope you gave me a good character," said I anxiously, and very pleased to think that my interest in Diana of the Ephesians was reciprocated11.
"I told her that you were always the best of boys Master Cyrus, and that fond of my custards, as I had always to give you one every day when you was little and sweet-toothed."
I reddened. "Oh, nonsense! Miss Monk doesn't wish to hear tales of my childish greed, Cuckoo."
"She wished to hear everything," said Mrs. Gilfin, phlegmatically12, "being wonderfully took up with your pleasant ways. And I don't blame her," said the ex-cook, beaming through her spectacles, "seeing as you're a gentleman grown, Master Cyrus, and handsomer than I ever thought you'd become. Not that Miss Gertrude cares for good looks without good birth, and good manners, or she'd have run off with Joseph ages ago."
"Is he back?" I asked, starting, for I had to reckon with the gardener.
"Oh, yes, he's back," grunted14 Mrs. Gilfin, disgusted, "and always hanging about that house picking weeds. So he says, but it's to look at what he'll never get, as I'll tell him some fine day. Such sauce!"
"He hasn't had the insolence15 to speak to Miss Monk on the subject of his confounded feelings?" I asked, anxiously, for there was no denying that the man's aggressive good looks constituted him a dangerous rival.
"Not he, and if he did she'd soon send him to the right about with a flea16 in his ear. Good looks ain't good manners, Master Cyrus, say what you will."
"Well," I laughed. "I hope you told her that I was the best-mannered and most good-natured man in the universe, Cuckoo."
"I told the truth, you may be sure, Master Cyrus," rebuked17 Mrs. Gilfin, "saying you was that honorable and clever and thoughtful and kindhearted, as I'd trust you with my very own heart to do what you liked with. Not that you want my heart, bless you," ended Mrs. Gilfin, beaming again and becoming one vast substantial smile like Mrs. Fezziwig in "The Christmas Carol."
"You want Miss Gertrude's."
"Good heavens, Cuckoo! you didn't tell her that I hope?"
"Not in so many words, Master Cyrus. But bless you," added Mrs. Gilfin significantly, "women in these matters ain't fools, sir."
I was rather perturbed18 over this, as it was not impossible that the maidenly19 modesty20 of Gertrude might take offence, if she guessed my undeclared sentiments. And in any case, the slightest hint of such an attitude might embarrass our conversation. By this time, it was useless to deny that I was fathoms22 deep in love. I suppose I had brooded so long over the beauty of the pictured face, that when the original proved to be even more attractive, the egg of love was promptly23 hatched into the actual chick From the moment my eyes met those of Gertrude, and soul read soul, I adored her with a headstrong passion, which I should have scouted24 in another man. If ever there was an impulsive25 being who aptly illustrated26 Marlow's dictum, as to love at first sight, I was that uncommon27 individual. For I take it that sudden passions of this unthinking sort, are unusual in an age, when lovers--a most unsuitable name for such cautious creatures--wish to inspect the lady's check-book before proposing.
But I need not have worried my mind over any possible embarrassment28 on Miss Monk's part. She was more composed than I was when we next met; and that was in the village store, whither I had gone to procure29 some stationery30. It was necessary to write Cannington and advise him of my actual whereabouts, if only to keep him out of the way. I did not wish him to come down and spoil my wooing, as an inconvenient31 third. Besides, as a feather-headed boy, he might be indiscreet with regard to the Mootley murder, and I wished to supply all information on that matter, by word of mouth. It was the sole excuse, which I had for seeking the society of my goddess, and I did not wish it to be staled by other people's repetitions.
While I was purchasing blotting-paper, ink and pens and stationery from a genial32 old woman in a mob-cap, Miss Monk entered the shop. She was dressed as she had been when I last saw her, but this time carried a dog-whip in place of a sunshade. Gamboling round her was a large ungainly Newfoundland year-old puppy, who answered to the odd name of Puddles33. At least that was his pet name, as Miss Monk afterwards told me that he was registered as Ion, after the hero of Judge Talfourd's famous play. Puddles lounged against me with exuberant34 friendliness35, and had to be corrected with the whip. When the commotion36 subsided37, his mistress found time to speak and apologize, looking handsomer than ever, with the color of exercise in her cheeks.
"You mustn't mind the dog," she said gravely, "he won't bite you."
"I hope not," I replied with equal gravity, "I am extremely timid, you know."
She smiled at this. "I think I would trust you in a moment of danger, Mr. Vance. But to be friends with me, you must be friends with Puddles."
"I quite understand. Love me, love my dog."
"I didn't say anything about love," she laughed, her color deepening. "But in any case, you have put the cart before the horse. Love my dog and love me, you should say."
"Certainly! Puddles!" I dropped on one knee, and held out a caressing38 hand, "try and love me--as a beginning."
"A beginning to what?" asked Miss Monk, smiling and crimson39.
"Puddles knows, Puddles understands: see, he gives me his paw. Good dog." I shook the huge paw, patted the huge head, and rose to be conventional. "It is a beautiful day, isn't it, Miss Monk."
"Of course, and the horse is the noblest of all animals," she replied with up-lifted eyebrows40. "I thought you were more original, Mr. Vance."
"I assure you that is a mistake. I am that harmless, and necessary person, the repeater of platitudes41."
She shuddered42. "Don't repeat them to me, please, I hate copy-book phrases."
"Yet what good sense they contain. Your remark about the horse is one, and is absolutely true."
"So true," she mocked, "as to make the statement unnecessary." She turned to purchase a bag of dog-biscuits. "Are we fighting a verbal duel43, Mr. Vance?"
"It would seem so, Miss Monk, but the buttons are on our foils."
With the bag in her arms, she wheeled nervously44. "Why do you say that?" and there was apprehension45 in her dark eyes.
"I speak for the sake of speaking."
"No," her anxious eyes searched my face, "you are not that kind of man. If you----" she stopped and bit her lip, and with a curt46 nod walked rapidly out of the shop followed by Puddles. I did not attempt to follow, as I saw that my cryptic47 speech had interested her, and wished to give her time to think over my personality. While I remained in her thoughts, there was every hope that she would seek me again. Better that she should be afraid of me, than indifferent to me.
And as I sauntered back to The Robin Redbreast, I felt convinced that she was afraid of me: my dark sayings had made her afraid. At our first meeting under the tin roof of Miss Destiny's hovel, I had seen the fear in her eyes, and at this second meeting I saw it again, more apparent. But, what could she be afraid of in connection with me? There was only one common-sense answer: Gertrude Monk was the lady who had stolen my motor-car, and who had--but no; I could not bring myself to believe the worst, even in the face of the obvious certainty that she was concealing48 something, which had to do with the weird49 circumstances at Mootley. She would explain when the time came, and that would be when she was sufficiently50 well acquainted with me to regard Mrs. Gilfin's eulogy51 as justified52. Then--well I would wait until then, for in the pursuit of the impossible, I was developing a fine quality of patience.
During the next few days, I occasionally met Miss Destiny and her servant in the village. They went shopping together, and the little old lady beat down the prices of everyone, however cheap the goods she wanted might originally be. I believe she enjoyed the squabble, and certainly her tongue clacked from morning to night in the endeavor to get her own sordid53 way. She was a miser54, pure and simple, and had contracted the disease--for that it was--from the late Gabriel Monk. Everyone hated Miss Destiny, for in addition to being avaricious55, she had a desperately56 evil tongue, and dealt with one and all from the point of view of a misanthrope57. That is, she never said a good word of anyone, but babbled58 out many bad ones, so that she set people by the ears constantly. She might have abused me, for all I knew, but if she did, her demeanor59 to my face was extremely pleasant. When we met, she always hinted roguishly at my love for her niece, and chaffed me about the same. At times I wondered if she discussed my presence at Burwain with Gertrude. I thought not, as my meetings with the goddess were always marked by a perfectly60 unembarrassed manner on her part. Moreover, aunt and niece did not get on well together, and only exchanged formal visits. Miss Destiny--as I gathered from Mrs. Gilfin's ready tongue--had never forgiven Gertrude for inheriting the missing fortune, and always expressed herself pleased that it could not be found.
Although I had been over a fortnight at Burwain, Mr. Walter Monk was still absent from the old Jacobean mansion61, and Gertrude lived there with one servant in nun-like seclusion62. She read a great deal, and played the piano and attended to Puddles--a great stand-by against loneliness. Joseph also was frequently about the garden, but I don't think she ever gave him a word--on Mrs. Gilfin's authority I can say this--unless it had to do with his duties. But he hung round the place like a stray dog, satisfied if he could catch only a glimpse of Gertrude, and was in the seventh heaven if she addressed a word to him. Miss Destiny spoke63 to me of the gardener's infatuation, which was apparent to everyone.
"You have met Joseph?" she asked me one day in her mincing64 manner.
"At Mootley, when he was setting his aunt's house in order," I informed her genially65. I was always genial with Miss Destiny, as for my own purposes I wished to keep on good terms with her.
"Ah, yes. He inherited Anne's savings66. Quite a nice little sum, I believe. And the lease of the shop also," added Miss Destiny musingly67, "Gertrude might do worse."
"What do you mean?" I asked sharply, and, I fear, angrily.
The little old lady raised her twinkling sharp eyes to my annoyed face. "I forgot," she said impishly, "you are the other one."
"The other what, Miss Destiny?"
"Lover--the second Prince Charming; though I think," she remarked in a very spiteful tone, "that the first Prince is the handsomer."
I went straight to the point. "Miss Destiny, I don't for one moment suppose that you would like to see Miss Monk become Striver's wife."
"Why not. He has looks, if not birth; and money, if not position."
"The thing's absurd. A lady marry a gardener."
"Other ladies have done so and have been happy," she persisted. "Besides Gertrude may not be able to help herself."
"What do you mean by that?"
"Nothing and everything," she replied enigmatically. "Mr. Striver is in possession of all Anne's private papers," she hesitated.
"Well? well? well?" I said impatiently.
"Ask Gertrude," she snapped out.
"Ask what?"
Miss Destiny winced68, and her black eyes twinkled again. "Ask her to be your wife, Mr. Vance, else you will find her Mrs. Striver before six months are ended. Now don't ask questions here," she pointed69 to her flat bosom70, "ask them of Gertrude. Again I say, Joseph has Anne Caldershaw's private papers."
"Well?" I was more bewildered than ever.
"That is all," said Miss Destiny, and dropping one of her old-fashioned curtseys, she trotted71 off, laughing malignantly72 like a wicked fairy.
What the terrible old woman meant I could not imagine, but I determined73 to take her advice and ask questions in the right quarter. I had now been some time at Burwain, and, as yet, had learned nothing likely to throw light on the darkness of the Mootley murder. Striver evidently had made up his mind to stay where he was as gardener at The Lodge2, and although we never spoke, he always eyed me savagely74 when I paid a visit to the mansion. It is true that Gertrude did not invite me into the house, and always saw me in the garden; but that I should dare to come and worship at his private shrine75 was quite enough to make Striver desperately angry.
And in his working clothes the fellow looked handsomer than ever. I really wondered that Gertrude did not fall in love with him, as he was by way of being a rustic76 Apollo, and was possessed77 of some education. But she was always extremely cool to him, and scarcely displayed more warmth towards me. A most inscrutable girl. I could not make her out, for try as I would the secret of her noli-me-tangere attitude baffled and disconcerted me.
"My father is returning for a few days this evening," said Gertrude to me when we met by chance on the village green.
"I should like to meet him," I said promptly.
"Why?" she demanded with her usual directness.
It was a difficult question to answer. "I admire his daughter," was my lame7 reply. "Surely you can understand----"
"That you are talking nonsense," she interrupted quickly. "Yes I can," she stopped for a moment, then went on impetuously, "I wish you would go away."
"I see no reason why I should," I remonstrated78.
"I do. I do. You are not hot; you are not cold; you are neither fowl79, fish, nor good red-herring. Go away," and turning on her heel she walked away so swiftly that I had no time to ask further questions.
What did she mean? I could not understand. Later I met with Miss Destiny, and could understand the aunt no more than I understood the niece. The first told me to go away in a most peremptory80 manner, while the second hinted that because Joseph possessed Mrs. Caldershaw's private papers, Gertrude was likely to become Mrs. Striver within six months. It was really all very perplexing, and the sole way to end such perplexity was to show Miss Monk her cloak and demand explanations. But this I did not wish to do, until I was more certain of my ground: until I understood her feelings towards myself better. For by this time, what with Striver's persistence81, her own dismissal of myself, and Miss Destiny's strange hints, I was beginning to believe that she favored my handsome, humble82 attentive83 rival.
"I sha'n't stand it any longer," I thought, turning my steps towards the inn. "This very evening, I shall call and see her. We must have an explanation straight away!" And this resolution I adhered to so firmly that I found myself at the door of the Jacobean mansion one hour after dinner--that is, seeing I dined early in the country--at seven o'clock.
The grounds of The Lodge--thanks to Striver's love-lorn devotion--were most beautifully kept. The flower-beds had no weeds, the lawns were smoothly84 clipped and rolled, and the whole place had an orderly trim look, which contrasted oddly with the tumbledown appearance of the house itself. This, of mellow85 red brick, overgrown with ivy86, stood on a slight rise, and a wide terrace of stone with shallow steps descending87 to the lawns, ran round three sides of it. Some Vandal had put French windows into the drawing-room, and these looked quite out of keeping with the old-world air of the mansion. It was a very ancient house, and I verily believe that only the ivy held the mouldering88 bricks together. The porch was large and chilly89, and when I pulled the bell, its jangling echoes, followed by the baying of Puddles, added to the lonely impression produced by the place. Miss Destiny called her niece "The Sleeping Beauty!" so this dismal90 dwelling91 might well have been her palace. Only Mr. Striver's trim garden looked modern and well-cared for: the house itself was a slight improvement on the ruins of Carthage.
The one servant of the Lodge--a white-capped, sober, sedate92 old creature called Trumble--came to the door, and seemed doubtful about admitting me. The place was like a convent and evidently Trumble did not wish any male to enter. But while I argued with her, Miss Monk appeared, and intimated that I could come in. I would have thanked her, but that her beauty took my breath away. Even in the dim light of the hall lamp, she shone like a star; but it was not until we were in the drawing-room that the full perfection of her loveliness burst upon me. I stared like an oaf, or like the misnamed Cortez in Keats's sonnet93.
She was in a pale-blue evening dress, which displayed her beautiful neck and arms to perfection. As in the photograph, she wore no necklace, or bracelets94, or rings, or brooches, or indeed ornaments95 of any description. The dress also was plain and devoid96 of trimming, so that it revealed fully13 the noble lines of her figure. As usual her hair was bunched at the back of her shapely head in ancient Greek fashion, and she more than ever reminded me of Diana. I did not look at a mere97 picture this time, but at the flesh and blood divinity, who had descended98 in gracious splendor99 from high Olympus. Though indeed, her somewhat stern face did not look very gracious at the moment.
Owing to my intention of calling, I had arrayed myself in a dress suit for the occasion, although I did not usually prepare myself for dinner in this way at The Robin Redbreast. But, manlike, I had a feeling of vanity that I also was ultra-civilized. Had I come in tweeds I should have been ashamed to face this gracious vision. And yet I am not a vain man, though, as the somewhat unworthy sentiment flashed into my mind, I thought what a conceited100 ass21 I was. And all because I loved a woman and wished to appear at my best before her. Truly human nature is strange and--as in the present personal instance--trifling.
"Well," asked Miss Monk, a slight smile breaking the severe curve of her lips, as she saw how persistently101 I stared, "why have you called, Mr. Vance?"
"Is it a crime?" I asked, somewhat annoyed.
"In my eyes it is, because I asked you to go away."
"Ah, I came here to seek for an explanation."
"I have none to give. Still, as you are here, you may as well sit down. I cannot see you for more than half an hour, as my father is returning."
I sat down on the chair she indicated, and she placed herself on the opposite sofa which stretched diagonally before the fire. There were three lamps with rosy102 shades in the large low-ceilinged room, and we sat in a kind of Paphian twilight103, eminently104 suited to a proposal. What with the subdued105 light amidst which she glimmered106 like an exquisite107 star, and my own tumultuous feelings, I wonder that I did not take her in my arms, then and there to kiss her into consenting to be my dear wife. But prudence108 came to my aid and I was spared the necessity of a refusal, which certainly would have been forthcoming had I acted as I felt inclined to do.
She was silent, and I was silent, and the only sound in the room was the crackling of the fire and the ticking of the French clock on the mantelpiece. Then, as Gertrude did not speak, I was forced to begin the conversation, else my half-hour would be wasted.
"You puzzle me, Miss Monk," I said bluntly, and purposely said it, so as to enchain her attention.
"Do I? Why?"
"Your aunt also puzzles me," I went on, ignoring her question.
"Why?" she asked again, and the uneasy troubled look came into her eyes.
"She declares that you will become Mrs. Striver within six months----"
"Mr. Vance!" She rose impulsively109, and looked highly indignant.
"Because," I continued remorselessly, and repeating Miss Destiny's exact words, "Joseph has Anne Caldershaw's private papers."
Miss Monk turned white, gasped110, and sank back nervously into her seat. "My aunt is mad to say such a thing," she stammered111.
"Possibly," said I dryly. "I have no very great idea of Miss Destiny's sanity112 myself. But, it may be that you can explain the madness."
Gertrude looked round the room, as if in search of help, and placed both hands on her breast as though to still the beating of her heart. "I would explain--to a friend," she muttered, and her face was whiter than the statue of Parian marble on the bracket by the fireplace.
"I am a friend, Miss Monk."
"A true friend?"
"Test me and find me so." I bent113 over her. "Can you not understand?"
She put out her hand and pushed me back slightly. "My friend--not yet."
I retreated. "Friend--so cold a word."
"It is sufficient for the present," and then I saw that her whiteness was drowned in a rising tide of crimson. I would have spoken, for a sudden leap of my heart told me that her feelings were not so indifferent as I had imagined them to be. But again she put over her hand. "No, say nothing; let us remain friends until----"
"Until when?" I asked eagerly.
Pressing her hands between her knees she stared into the fire, then spoke in a low steady voice. "I never had a friend, either man or woman, and I have always wanted one. When you came I thought--it was foolish on my part perhaps--but I thought that you might help me."
"I wish to help you in every way."
She went on without heeding114 my impetuous speech. "I doubted: one always doubts a man. I asked Mrs. Gilfin about you. What she told me, confirmed the impression I had gained from your looks. I felt certain from many times we have met that Mrs. Gilfin spoke truly. You are a man I can trust."
"Yes! yes! But am I a man you can love?"
"Let it remain as trust for the time being. I still had doubts, and to-day I told you to go away."
"Why?"
"Because you said nothing, you did nothing. You were neither hot nor--ah well, remember what I said to-day when we met. I could not make a friend of anyone who was indifferent. But now, as I see you mean to be my friend, I may trust you. I need sympathy: I need help: I need"--she started to her feet and held up an anxious finger. "Hark! hark! Not a word to him."
To him? I wondered what she meant, until the door opened and a man walked delicately into the room.
"Here I am, daughterling," said the man gaily115.
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1
lodged
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| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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lodge
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| v.临时住宿，寄宿，寄存，容纳；n.传达室，小旅馆 | |
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robin
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| n.知更鸟，红襟鸟 | |
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monk
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| n.和尚，僧侣，修道士 | |
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moth
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| n.蛾，蛀虫 | |
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6
hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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pertinacity
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| n.执拗，顽固 | |
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apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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landlady
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| n.女房东，女地主 | |
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reciprocated
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| v.报答，酬答( reciprocate的过去式和过去分词 )；（机器的部件）直线往复运动 | |
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phlegmatically
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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grunted
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| （猪等）作呼噜声( grunt的过去式和过去分词 )； （指人）发出类似的哼声； 咕哝着说 | |
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insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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flea
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| n.跳蚤 | |
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rebuked
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| 责难或指责( rebuke的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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perturbed
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| adj.烦燥不安的v.使（某人）烦恼，不安( perturb的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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maidenly
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| adj. 像处女的, 谨慎的, 稳静的 | |
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modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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ass
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| n.驴；傻瓜，蠢笨的人 | |
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fathoms
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| 英寻( fathom的名词复数 ) | |
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promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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scouted
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| 寻找，侦察( scout的过去式和过去分词 )； 物色（优秀运动员、演员、音乐家等） | |
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impulsive
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| adj.冲动的，刺激的；有推动力的 | |
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illustrated
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| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
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uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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embarrassment
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| n.尴尬；使人为难的人(事物)；障碍；窘迫 | |
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procure
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| vt.获得，取得，促成；vi.拉皮条 | |
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stationery
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| n.文具；(配套的)信笺信封 | |
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inconvenient
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| adj.不方便的，令人感到麻烦的 | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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puddles
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| n.水坑， （尤指道路上的）雨水坑( puddle的名词复数 ) | |
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exuberant
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| adj.充满活力的；（植物）繁茂的 | |
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friendliness
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| n.友谊，亲切，亲密 | |
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commotion
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| n.骚动，动乱 | |
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subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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caressing
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| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
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39
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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40
eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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41
platitudes
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| n.平常的话，老生常谈，陈词滥调( platitude的名词复数 )；滥套子 | |
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42
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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43
duel
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| n./v.决斗；(双方的)斗争 | |
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44
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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45
apprehension
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| n.理解，领悟；逮捕，拘捕；忧虑 | |
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46
curt
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| adj.简短的，草率的 | |
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47
cryptic
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| adj.秘密的，神秘的，含义模糊的 | |
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48
concealing
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，遮住( conceal的现在分词 ) | |
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49
weird
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| adj.古怪的，离奇的；怪诞的，神秘而可怕的 | |
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50
sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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51
eulogy
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| n.颂词；颂扬 | |
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52
justified
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| a.正当的，有理的 | |
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53
sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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miser
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| n.守财奴，吝啬鬼 (adj.miserly) | |
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avaricious
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| adj.贪婪的，贪心的 | |
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56
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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57
misanthrope
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| n.恨人类的人；厌世者 | |
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58
babbled
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| v.喋喋不休( babble的过去式和过去分词 )；作潺潺声（如流水）；含糊不清地说话；泄漏秘密 | |
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59
demeanor
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| n.行为；风度 | |
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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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61
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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seclusion
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| n.隐遁，隔离 | |
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63
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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64
mincing
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| adj.矫饰的；v.切碎；切碎 | |
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genially
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| adv.亲切地，和蔼地；快活地 | |
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savings
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| n.存款，储蓄 | |
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musingly
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| adv.沉思地，冥想地 | |
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winced
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| 赶紧避开，畏缩( wince的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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trotted
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| 小跑，急走( trot的过去分词 )； 匆匆忙忙地走 | |
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malignantly
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| 怀恶意地； 恶毒地； 有害地； 恶性地 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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shrine
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| n.圣地，神龛，庙；v.将...置于神龛内，把...奉为神圣 | |
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rustic
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| adj.乡村的，有乡村特色的；n.乡下人，乡巴佬 | |
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possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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remonstrated
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| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
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fowl
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| n.家禽，鸡，禽肉 | |
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peremptory
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| adj.紧急的，专横的，断然的 | |
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persistence
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| n.坚持，持续，存留 | |
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82
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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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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smoothly
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| adv.平滑地，顺利地，流利地，流畅地 | |
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85
mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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86
ivy
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| n.常青藤，常春藤 | |
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87
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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88
mouldering
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| v.腐朽( moulder的现在分词 )；腐烂，崩塌 | |
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89
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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91
dwelling
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| n.住宅，住所，寓所 | |
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92
sedate
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| adj.沉着的，镇静的，安静的 | |
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93
sonnet
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| n.十四行诗 | |
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94
bracelets
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| n.手镯，臂镯( bracelet的名词复数 ) | |
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95
ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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devoid
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| adj.全无的，缺乏的 | |
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97
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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98
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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99
splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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100
conceited
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| adj.自负的，骄傲自满的 | |
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101
persistently
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| ad.坚持地；固执地 | |
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102
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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103
twilight
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| n.暮光，黄昏；暮年，晚期，衰落时期 | |
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104
eminently
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| adv.突出地；显著地；不寻常地 | |
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105
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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106
glimmered
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| v.发闪光，发微光( glimmer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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107
exquisite
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| adj.精美的；敏锐的；剧烈的，感觉强烈的 | |
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108
prudence
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| n.谨慎，精明，节俭 | |
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109
impulsively
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| adv.冲动地 | |
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110
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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111
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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112
sanity
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| n.心智健全，神智正常，判断正确 | |
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113
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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114
heeding
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| v.听某人的劝告，听从( heed的现在分词 ) | |
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115
gaily
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| adv.欢乐地，高兴地 | |
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