The second summer vacation after that happy holiday time which Rhoda had passed with the Erringtons at Llanryddan arrived. A hot July, winged with thunder-clouds, brooded over the meadows by the Whit1. The shadow of Pudcombe Woods was pleasant in the sultry afternoons, and the cattle stood for hours knee-deep in dark pools, overhung by drooping3 boughs5. The great school-room at the Grammar School resounded6 no more with the tread of young feet, or the murmur7 of young voices. It was empty, and silent, and dusty; and an overgrown spider had thrown his grey tapestry8 right across the oriel window, so that it was painted, warp9 and woof, with brave purple and ruby10 blazonries from the old stained glass.
Dr. Bodkin and his family were away at a seaside place in the South of England. Mr. Diamond had gone on a solitary11 excursion afoot. Even Pudcombe Hall was deserted12; although young Pawkins was expected to return thither13, later in the season, for the shooting. Rhoda Maxfield had been sent to her half-brother Seth, at Duckwell Farm, to get strong and sunburned; and as she was allowed to be by herself almost as much as she wished—Mrs. Seth Maxfield being a bustling14, active woman, who would not have thought of suspending or modifying her daily avocations15 for the sake of entertaining any visitor whatever—Rhoda spent her time, not unhappily, in a sort of continuous day-dream, sitting with a book of poetry under a hedge in the hayfield, or wandering with her little nephew, Seth Maxfield the younger, in Pudcombe Woods, which were near her brother's farm. She liked looking back better than looking forward, perhaps; and enacted16 in her imagination many a scene that had occurred at dear Llanryddan over and over again. But still there were many times when she indulged in hopeful anticipations17 as to Algy's return. He had come back to London after his foreign travel, and had spent another brilliant season under the patronage18 of his great relations. And then a rumour19 had reached Whitford that Lord Seely had at length obtained the promise of a good post for him, and that he might be expected to revisit Whitford in the autumn at latest. Mrs. Errington had been invited to a country house of Lord Seely's, in Westmoreland, to meet her son, and had set out on her visit in high spirits. Rhoda was thus cut off from hearing frequently of Algernon, through his mother, but she looked forward to seeing them together in September. Rhoda missed her friend and patroness; but she missed her less at Duckwell than she would have done in the dull house in the High Street.
On the whole, she was not unhappy during those sultry summer weeks. Modest and humble20-minded as she was, she had come to understand that she was considered pretty and pleasing by the ladies and gentlemen whose acquaintance she had made. No caressing21 words, no flattering epithets22, no pet names, had been bestowed23 upon her by her father's old friends and companions. She was just simply Rhoda Maxfield to them; never "Primrose," or "Pretty one," or "Rhoda dear;" and the Methodists, however blind to her attractive qualities, had displayed considerable vigilance in pointing out her backsliding, and exhorting24 her to make every effort to become convinced of sin. Certainly the society of ladies and gentlemen was infinitely25 more agreeable.
Then, too, there had dawned on her some idea that Mr. Diamond felt a warm admiration26 for her—perhaps something even warmer than admiration. Miss Chubb (who delighted to foster any amatory sentiments which she might observe in the young persons around her, and was fond of saying, with a languishing27 droop4 of her plump, rubicund28, good-humoured countenance29, that she would not for the world see other young hearts blighted30 by early disappointment, as hers had been) had dropped several hints to that effect sufficiently31 broad to be understood even by the bashful Rhoda. And, a little to her own surprise, Rhoda had felt something like gratification, in consequence; Mr. Diamond was such a very clever gentleman. Although he wasn't rich, yet everybody thought a great deal of him. Even Dr. Bodkin (decidedly the most awful embodiment of authority whom Rhoda had ever yet known) treated Mr. Diamond with consideration. And Miss Minnie was his intimate friend. Rhoda had not the least idea of ever reciprocating32 Mr. Diamond's sentiments. But she could not help feeling that the existence of those sentiments increased her own importance in the world. And she had a lurking33 idea that it might, if known to Algy, increase her importance in his eyes also.
As to Mr. Diamond's part in the matter, Rhoda, to say truth, concerned herself very little with that. Partly from a humble estimate of herself, and partly from that maiden34 incapacity for conceiving the fire and force of a masculine passion, which often makes girls pass for cruel who are only childish, she never had thought of Mr. Diamond as seriously suffering for her sake. But yet she was less cold and repellent to him than she had once been. It is difficult not to thaw35 somewhat in the presence of one whose words and looks make a genial36 atmosphere for that sensitive plant—youthful vanity.
Rhoda's wardrobe, which by this time had become considerable in quantity and tasteful in quality, was a great source of amusement to her. She delighted to trim, and stitch, and alter, and busy her fingers with the manufacture of bright-coloured bows of ribbon and dainty muslin frills. Mrs. Seth looked contemptuous at what she called "Rhoda's finery," and told her she would never do for a farmer's wife if she spent so much time over a parcel of frippery. Seth Maxfield shook his head gravely, and hoped that Rhoda was not given up utterly37 to worldliness and vanity; but feared that she had learnt no good at St. Chad's church, but had greatly backslided since the days of her attendance at chapel38.
For the Seth Maxfields still belonged to the Wesleyan connexion, and disapproved39 of the change that had taken place among the family at Whitford. Not that Seth was a deeply religious man. But his father's desertion of the Wesleyans appeared to him in the light of a party defection. It was "ratting;" and ratting, as Seth thought, without the excuse of a bribe40.
"Look how well father has prospered41!" he would say to his wife. "He's as warm a man, is father, as 'ere a one in Whitford. And the Church folks bought their tea and sugar of him all the same when he belonged to the Society. But I don't believe the Society will spend their money with him now as they did. So that's so much clean lost. I'm not so strict as some, myself; nor I don't see the use of it. But I do think a man ought to stick to what he's been brought up to. 'Specially42 when it's had the manifest blessing43 of Providence44! If the Lord was so well satisfied with father being a Wesleyan, I think father might ha' been satisfied too."
Still there had been no quarrel between the Whitford Maxfields and those of Duckwell. They came together so seldom that opportunities for quarrelling were rare. And Seth had too great a respect for such manifestations45 of Providential approbation46 as had been vouchsafed47 to his father, to be willing to break entirely48 with the old man. So, when old Max proposed to send Rhoda to the farm for a few weeks, he paying a weekly stipend49 for her board, his son and his son's wife had at once agreed to the proposition. And as they were not persons who brought their religious theories into the practical service of daily life, Rhoda's conscience was not disturbed by having a high and stern standard of duty held up for her attainment50 at every moment.
The Wesleyan preacher at that time in the district was a frequent guest at Duckwell Farm. And in the long summer evenings one or two neighbours would occasionally drop in to the cool stone-flagged parlour, where brother Jackson would read a chapter and offer up a prayer. And afterwards there would be smoking of pipes and drinking of home-brewed by the men; while Mrs. Seth and Rhoda would sit on a bench in the apple-orchard51, near to the open window of the parlour, and sew, and talk, or listen to the conversation from within, as they pleased.
Rhoda perceived quickly enough that the Duckwell Farm species of Methodism was very different from the Methodism of David Powell. Mr. Jackson never said anything to frighten her. He talked, indeed, of sin, and of the dangers that beset52 sinners; but he never spoke53 as if they were real to him—as if he heard and saw all the terrible things he discoursed54 of so glibly56. Then Mr. Jackson was, Rhoda thought, a somewhat greedy eater. He did not smoke, it was true; but he took a good share of Seth's strong ale, and was not above indulging in gossip—perhaps to please himself, perhaps to please Mrs. Seth Maxfield.
Rhoda drew a comparison in her own mind between brother Jackson and the stately rector of St. Chad's, and felt much satisfaction at the contrast between them. How much nicer it was to be a member of a Church of England congregation; where one heard Dr. Bodkin or Mr. Warlock speak a not too long discourse55 in correct English, and with that refined accent which Rhoda's ear had learned to prize, and where the mellow57 old organ made a quivering atmosphere of music that seemed to mingle58 with the light from the painted windows; than to sit on a deal bench in a white-washed chapel, and painfully keep oneself broad awake whilst brother Jackson or brother Hinks bawled59 out a series of disjointed sentences, beginning with "Oh!" and displaying a plentiful60 lack of aspirates!
On the whole, perhaps, her stay at Duckwell Farm was a potent61 agent in confirming Rhoda in orthodox views of religion.
Generally, as she sat beside Mrs. Seth in the parlour, or on the bench outside the window, Rhoda withdrew her attention from the talk of brother Jackson and the others. She could think her own thoughts, and dream her own dreams, whilst she was knitting a stocking or hemming62 a pinafore for little Seth. But sometimes a name was mentioned at these meetings that she could not hear with indifference63. It was the name of David Powell.
The tone in which he was spoken of now was very opposite to the chorus of praise which had accompanied every mention of him among the Whitford Methodists, two years ago. There were rumours64 that he had defied the authority of Conference, and intended to secede65 from the Society. He was said to have been preaching strange doctrine66 in the remote parts of Wales, and to have caused and encouraged extravagant67 manifestations, such as were known to have prevailed at the preachings of Berridge and Hickes, seventy or eighty years ago; and earlier still, at the first open-air sermons of John Wesley himself, at Bristol. Brother Jackson shook his head, and pursed up his lips at the rumours. He had never much approved of Powell; and Seth Maxfield had distinctly disapproved of him. Seth had been brought up in the old sleepy days, when members of the Society in Whitford were comfortably undisturbed by the voice of an "awakening68" preacher. He had resented the fuss that had been made about David Powell. He had been still more annoyed by his father's secession, which he attributed to Powell's over zeal69 and presumption70. And he, by his own example, encouraged a hostile and critical tone in speaking of the preacher.
There was, indeed, but one voice raised in his defence in the parlour at Duckwell Farm. This was the voice of Richard Gibbs, the head groom71 at Pudcombe Hall, who sometimes came over to Duckwell to join in the prayer-meetings there. Although Richard Gibbs was but a servant, he was a trusted and valued one; and he was received by the farmer and his wife with considerable civility. Richard "knew his place," as Mrs. Seth said, and was not "one of them as if you give 'em an inch they'll take an ell." And then he had a considerable knowledge of farriery, and had more than once given good advice to Farmer Maxfield respecting the treatment of sick horses and cattle. Seth was fond of repeating that he himself was "not so strict as some," finding, indeed, that a reputation for strictness, in a Methodistical sense, put him at a disadvantage with his fellow farmers on market-days. But whenever Richard Gibbs was spoken of, he would add to this general disclaimer of peculiar72 piety73 on his own part, "Not, mind you, but what there's some as conversion74 does a wonderful deal for, to this day, thanks be! Why, there's Dicky Gibbs, head-groom at Pudcombe Hall. Talk of blasphemers—well Dicky was a blasphemer! And now his lips are as pure from evil speaking as my little maid's there. And he's the only man I ever knew as had to do with horses that wouldn't tell you a lie. At first, I believe, there was some at the Hall—I name no names—didn't like Dicky's plain truths. There was a carriage-horse to be sold, and Dicky spoke out and told this and that, and young master couldn't get his price. But in the long run it answers. Oh! I'm not against a fervent75 conversion, nor yet against conviction of sin—for some."
So Richard Gibbs sat many a summer evening in the flagged parlour at Duckwell Farm, and his melancholy76, clean-shaven, lantern-jawed face was a familiar spectacle at prayer-meetings there.
"I have been much grieved and exercised in spirit on behalf of brother Powell,"' said Mr. Jackson, in his thick voice.
The expounding77 and the prayers were over. Seth had lighted his pipe; so had Roger Heath, the baker78, from Pudcombe village. A great cool jug79 of ale stood on the table, and the setting sun sent his rays into the room, tempered by a screen of jessamine and vine leaves that hung down outside the window.
"Ah! And reason too!" said Seth gruffly. "He's been getting further and further out of the right furrow80 this many a day."
"They do say," observed sour-faced Roger Heath, "that there's dreadful scenes with them poor Welsh at his field-preachings. Men and women stricken down like bullocks, and screechings and convulsions, like as if they was all possessed81 with the devil."
"Lauk!" cried Mrs. Seth eagerly. "Why, how is that, then?"
Rhoda, listening outside, behind the screen of vine leaves at the open window, could not repress a shudder82 at the thought that, had David Powell shown this new power of his a year or two ago, she herself might have been among the convulsed who bore testimony83 to his terrible influence.
"How is that, Mrs. Maxfield?" returned Richard Gibbs. "Why, how can it be, except by abounding84 grace!"
"Nay85, Mr. Gibbs, but how dreadful it seems, don't it? Just think of falling down in a fit in the open field!"
"Just think of living and dying unawakened to sin! Is not that a hundred thousand times more dreadful?"
"I hope it don't need to roll about like Bedlamites to be awakened86 to a sense of sin, Mr. Gibbs!" cried Seth Maxfield.
"The Lord forbid!" ejaculated brother Jackson.
"A likely tale!" added Mrs. Seth, cheerfully.
"I'm against all such doings," said Roger Heath, shaking his head.
"But if it be the Lord's doing, sir?" remonstrated87 Richard Gibbs, speaking slowly, and with an anxious lack-lustre gaze at the white-washed ceiling, as though counsel might be read there. "And I've heard tell that John Wesley did the same at his field-preachings."
Brother Jackson hastily wiped his mouth, after a deep draught88 of ale, before replying, "That was in the beginning, when such things may have been needful. But now, I fear, they only bring scandal upon us, and strengthen scoffers."
"I tell you what it is," said Seth, taking the pipe from his mouth, and waving it up and down to emphasise89 his words, "it's my opinion as David Powell's not quite—not quite right in his head."
"'Taint90 the first time that thought has crossed my mind," said the baker, who had once upon a time been uneasy under the yoke91 of Powell's stern views as to weights and measures.
"Of course," pursued Seth, argumentatively, "we've got to draw a line. Religion is one thing and rampaging is another. From the first, when Powell began rampaging, I mistrusted what it would come to."
"The human brain is a very delicate and mysterious organ," said brother Jackson.
"Ah!" ejaculated Heath, with an air of profundity92, as of one the extent of whose acquaintance with the human brain was not easily to be set forth93 in words, "you may well say so, sir. There you're right, indeed, brother Jackson."
"Why, there it is!" cried Seth. "And Powell, he overtaxed the human brain. It's like flying in the face of Providence almost, to want to go so much beyond your neighbours. Why, he'd fast till he well-nigh starved himself."
"But he gave all he spared from his own stomach to the poor," put in Gibbs, looking sad and perplexed94.
"I call all that rampaging," returned Seth, with a touch of his father's obstinacy95.
"Dr. Evans read out an account of these doings in Wales from a newspaper in Mr. Barker the chemist's shop in Whitford last Saturday," said Heath. "I heard it. And Dr. Evans said it was catching96, and that such-like excitement was dangerous, for you never know where it might end. And Dr. Evans is of a Welsh family himself," he added, bringing out this clause, as though it strikingly illustrated97 or elucidated98 the topic under discussion.
Mrs. Seth drew her little boy close to her, and covered his curly poll with her large maternal99 hand, as though to protect the little "human brain" within from all danger. "Mercy me!" she said, "I hope Powell won't come into these parts any more! I should be frightened to go to chapel, or to let the children go either."
"Oh, you need not be alarmed, Mrs. Maxfield," said brother Jackson, with a superior smile.
"Nay, but if it is catching, Mr. Jackson!" persisted the anxious mother.
"Tut, lass! It isn't like measles100!" said her husband.
The ale being by this time exhausted101 and the pipes smoked out, brother Jackson rose to depart, and the baker went away with him. Seth Maxfield detained Gibbs for a few minutes to ask his advice about a favourite cart-horse.
"Well, Mr. Gibbs," said the housewife, when, the conference being over, he bade her "Good evening," "and when are your folks coming back to the Hall?"
"Not just yet, ma'am. Young master is gone to Westmoreland, I hear, to a wedding at some nobleman's house there. He'll be back at Pudcombe for the shooting."
"A wedding, eh?" said Mrs. Seth, with eager feminine interest in the topic. "Not his own wedding, I suppose?"
"Oh no, ma'am. 'Tis some friend of his, I believe, that he knew at Whitford; Erringham, I think the name is—a young gentleman that's going to marry the nobleman's niece. The housekeeper102 at the Hall was telling some of my fellow-servants about it the other day. But I'm ill at remembering the chat I hear. And 'tis unprofitable work too. Good evening, ma'am. Farewell, Seth," stooping down to pat the little one's curly head. "May the Lord bless and keep you!"
Mrs. Seth stood out in the apple-orchard, with two of her children clinging to her skirts, and held up her hand to shade her eyes as she watched the departing figure of Richard Gibbs moving across the meadow, in the rosy103 evening light. Then she turned to the wooden bench where Rhoda was sitting, huddled104 together, with her work lying in her lap. "You didn't come in to prayers, Rhoda," said her sister-in-law. "But, however, you can hear it all just as well outside, as in. If it wasn't for civility to Mr. Jackson, I'd liefer stay out here these fine summer evenings, myself. And I was thinking—why, child, what a white face you've got! Like a sheet of white paper, for all the world! And your hands are quite cold, though it's been downright sultry! Mercy me, don't go and get sick on our hands, Rhoda! What will your father say? Come, you'd best get to bed, and I'll make you a hot posset myself."
Rhoda passively followed her sister-in-law to the fresh lavender-scented chamber105 which she occupied; and she consented to go to bed at once. Her head ached, she said, but she declined the hot posset, and only asked to be left quiet.
"There's always some bother with girls of that delicate sort," said Mrs. Seth to her husband, when she went downstairs again. "Rhoda's mother was just such another; looked as if you might blow her away. I can't think whatever made your father marry her! Not but Rhoda's a nice-tempered girl enough, and very patient with the children. But, do you know, Seth, I'm afraid she's got a chill or something, sitting out in the orchard so late."
"What makes you think so?"
"Well, she had a queer, scared kind of look on her face."
"Nonsense! Catching cold don't make people look scared."
"Something makes her look scared, I tell you. It's either she's sickening for some fever, or else she's seen a ghost!"
点击
收听单词发音
收听单词发音 |
1
whit
|
|
| n.一点，丝毫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
dwellers
|
|
| n.居民，居住者( dweller的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
drooping
|
|
| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
droop
|
|
| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
boughs
|
|
| 大树枝( bough的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
resounded
|
|
| v.（指声音等）回荡于某处( resound的过去式和过去分词 )；产生回响；（指某处）回荡着声音 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
murmur
|
|
| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
tapestry
|
|
| n.挂毯，丰富多采的画面 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
warp
|
|
| vt.弄歪，使翘曲，使不正常，歪曲，使有偏见 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
ruby
|
|
| n.红宝石，红宝石色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
solitary
|
|
| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
deserted
|
|
| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
thither
|
|
| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
bustling
|
|
| adj.喧闹的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
avocations
|
|
| n.业余爱好，嗜好( avocation的名词复数 )；职业 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
enacted
|
|
| 制定（法律），通过（法案）( enact的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
anticipations
|
|
| 预期( anticipation的名词复数 )； 预测； （信托财产收益的）预支； 预期的事物 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
patronage
|
|
| n.赞助，支援，援助；光顾，捧场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
rumour
|
|
| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
humble
|
|
| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
caressing
|
|
| 爱抚的，表现爱情的，亲切的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
epithets
|
|
| n.（表示性质、特征等的）词语( epithet的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
bestowed
|
|
| 赠给，授予( bestow的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
exhorting
|
|
| v.劝告，劝说( exhort的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
infinitely
|
|
| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
admiration
|
|
| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
languishing
|
|
| a. 衰弱下去的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
rubicund
|
|
| adj.(脸色)红润的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
countenance
|
|
| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
blighted
|
|
| adj.枯萎的，摧毁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
sufficiently
|
|
| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
reciprocating
|
|
| adj.往复的；来回的；交替的；摆动的v.报答，酬答( reciprocate的现在分词 )；（机器的部件）直线往复运动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
lurking
|
|
| 潜在 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
maiden
|
|
| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
thaw
|
|
| v.（使）融化，（使）变得友善；n.融化，缓和 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
genial
|
|
| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
chapel
|
|
| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
disapproved
|
|
| v.不赞成( disapprove的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
bribe
|
|
| n.贿赂；v.向…行贿，买通 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
prospered
|
|
| 成功，兴旺( prosper的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
specially
|
|
| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
blessing
|
|
| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
providence
|
|
| n.深谋远虑，天道，天意；远见；节约；上帝 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
manifestations
|
|
| n.表示，显示（manifestation的复数形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
approbation
|
|
| n.称赞；认可 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
vouchsafed
|
|
| v.给予，赐予( vouchsafe的过去式和过去分词 )；允诺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
48
entirely
|
|
| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
stipend
|
|
| n.薪贴；奖学金；养老金 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
attainment
|
|
| n.达到，到达；［常pl.］成就，造诣 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
orchard
|
|
| n.果园，果园里的全部果树，(美俚)棒球场 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
beset
|
|
| v.镶嵌；困扰，包围 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
spoke
|
|
| 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 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
discoursed
|
|
| 演说（discourse的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
discourse
|
|
| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
glibly
|
|
| adv.流利地，流畅地；满口 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
mellow
|
|
| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
mingle
|
|
| vt.使混合，使相混；vi.混合起来；相交往 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
bawled
|
|
| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
plentiful
|
|
| adj.富裕的，丰富的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
potent
|
|
| adj.强有力的，有权势的；有效力的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
hemming
|
|
| 卷边 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
indifference
|
|
| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
rumours
|
|
| n.传闻( rumour的名词复数 )；风闻；谣言；谣传 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
secede
|
|
| v.退出，脱离 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
doctrine
|
|
| n.教义；主义；学说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
extravagant
|
|
| adj.奢侈的；过分的；(言行等)放肆的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
awakening
|
|
| n.觉醒，醒悟 adj.觉醒中的；唤醒的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
zeal
|
|
| n.热心，热情，热忱 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
presumption
|
|
| n.推测，可能性，冒昧，放肆，[法律]推定 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
71
groom
|
|
| vt.给（马、狗等）梳毛，照料，使...整洁 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
72
peculiar
|
|
| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
73
piety
|
|
| n.虔诚，虔敬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
74
conversion
|
|
| n.转化，转换，转变 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
75
fervent
|
|
| adj.热的，热烈的，热情的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
76
melancholy
|
|
| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
77
expounding
|
|
| 论述，详细讲解( expound的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
78
baker
|
|
| n.面包师 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
79
jug
|
|
| n.(有柄，小口，可盛水等的)大壶，罐，盂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
80
furrow
|
|
| n.沟；垄沟；轨迹；车辙；皱纹 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
81
possessed
|
|
| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
82
shudder
|
|
| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
83
testimony
|
|
| n.证词；见证，证明 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
84
abounding
|
|
| adj.丰富的，大量的v.大量存在，充满，富于( abound的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
85
nay
|
|
| adv.不；n.反对票，投反对票者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
86
awakened
|
|
| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
87
remonstrated
|
|
| v.抗议( remonstrate的过去式和过去分词 )；告诫 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
88
draught
|
|
| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
89
emphasise
|
|
| vt.加强...的语气，强调，着重 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
90
taint
|
|
| n.污点；感染；腐坏；v.使感染；污染 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
91
yoke
|
|
| n.轭；支配；v.给...上轭，连接，使成配偶 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
92
profundity
|
|
| n.渊博；深奥，深刻 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
93
forth
|
|
| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
94
perplexed
|
|
| adj.不知所措的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
95
obstinacy
|
|
| n.顽固；（病痛等）难治 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
96
catching
|
|
| adj.易传染的，有魅力的，迷人的，接住 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
97
illustrated
|
|
| adj. 有插图的，列举的 动词illustrate的过去式和过去分词 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
98
elucidated
|
|
| v.阐明，解释( elucidate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
99
maternal
|
|
| adj.母亲的，母亲般的，母系的，母方的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
100
measles
|
|
| n.麻疹，风疹，包虫病，痧子 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
101
exhausted
|
|
| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
102
housekeeper
|
|
| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
103
rosy
|
|
| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
104
huddled
|
|
| 挤在一起（huddle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
105
chamber
|
|
| n.房间，寝室；会议厅；议院；会所 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |