"Sure, we knew well how it would all turn out! These Utopian schemes generally do end in failure."
"If he had only followed the beaten track, there was every prospect19 of success before him; for, mind you, he had a fair share of ability."
"I wonder what will the bishop do?"
I was hoping that the return of Bittra and Ormsby would wean him away from his anxiety. But this, too, was pitiful and sad beyond words. I ventured to go see her the morning after their arrival. Ormsby came into the drawing-room first, and told me all particulars of their journey, and prepared me to see a great change in his young wife. Nevertheless, I was startled to see what a transformation22 a few days' agony had caused. Bittra had a curious habit of holding her face upwards23, like a child, when she spoke24; and this innocent, ingenuous25 habit, so typical of her candor26 and openness of mind, was now accentuated27 by the look of blank and utter despair that had crept over her. If she had wept freely, or been hysterical28, it would have been a relief; but no! she appeared dazed, and as if stricken into stone by the magnitude of her sorrow; and all the little accidents of home life,—the furniture, the gardens, her father's room and his wardrobe, his few books, his fishing-rods and fowling-pieces,—all were souvenirs of one whose place could not be filled in her soul, and whose tragic29 end, unsupported by the ministrations of religion, made the tender and reverent31 spirit of his child think of possibilities which no one can contemplate32 without a shudder33. How different the Catholic from the non-Catholic soul! What an intense realization34 of eternity35 and the future of its immortal36 spirits in the one! How utterly37 callous38 and indifferent to that immortality39 is the other! What an awful idea of God's justice in the one! What cool contempt for God's dispensations in the other! And how the one realizes the bursting of bonds and the setting free of the immortal spirit unto the vast environments and accidents of life, whilst the other sees but dead clay with some dim ideas of a shadowy and problematical eternity! "His soul! his soul!" Here was the burden of Bittra's grief. Ormsby could not understand it; he was frightened and bewildered. I tried every word of solace40, every principle of hope, that are our inheritance, only to realize that—
"Not all the preaching since Adam
Can make Death other than Death!"
Then I took her out into the yard, and placed her where her father had stood on the morning of her marriage, and where he heard "the Mass of his sad life ringing coldly to its end." I repeated every word he said,—his remorse41, his faith, his determination for a future, his regret that he was not with her on the morning of her nuptial42 Communion, his promise to be at Communion the Sunday after they returned from the Continent. "And here," I said, "he stood when the Angelus rang, and, taking off his hat, reverentially said it; and I counted the silver in his hair. And do you think, you little infidel, that our great Father has not numbered the hairs of his head also—ay, and the deep yearnings of his heart?"
She looked relieved.
"Come now," I said, "put on your hat and let us see Dolores. She knows eternity better than you or I."
"May I ask Rex to come with us?"
"Certainly," as I thought what a merciful dispensation it was that a new love had been implanted where an old love was rudely snatched away.
"And Dr. Armstrong? He journeyed down from Dublin with us."
"Of course. He intends, I believe, to see Alice professionally."
"Yes. He is to arrange for a consultation43 with our doctor."
"Very good. We shall all go together."
So we did. And I had the supreme44 consolation13 to see these two afflicted45 ones mingling46 their tears in the chalice47 that was held to them to drink.
"One little word, Father Dan," said Alice, as I departed. "I don't mind Mrs. Ormsby. There is to be no operation, you promised me."
"No, my dear child, don't think of that. You will be treated with the greatest delicacy48 and tenderness."
The result of the investigation49 made next day was a curious one. It was quite true that her poor body was one huge sore; even the palms of her hands and the soles of her feet were not exempt50. But Dr. Armstrong made light of this.
"I cannot promise to make her as handsome as I am told she was," he said; "but I can restore her health by powerful tonics51 and good food. That's no trouble. I've seen worse cases at least partially52 cured. But the poor girl is paralyzed from the hips53 down, and that is beyond human skill."
Here was a revelation. I told Alice about it after the doctors had left. She only said "Thank God!" But Dr. Armstrong's predictions were verified. Slowly, very slowly, in a few weeks, the external symptoms of the dread disease disappeared, until the face and forehead became thoroughly54 healed, and only a red mark, which time would wear off, remained. And her general strength came back, day by day, as fresh blood drove out all that was tainted55 and unwholesome, and even her hair began to grow, first in fluffy56 wisps, then in strong, glossy57 curls, whilst a curious, spiritual beauty seemed to animate58 her features, until she looked, to my eyes, like the little Alice I had worshipped as a child. In a mysterious way, also, Alice and Bittra seemed to pass into each other's souls; and as the thorns withered59 and fell away from each young brow and heart, little roses of Divine love, reflected in human sympathy and fellowship, seemed to sprout60, and throw out their tender leaves, until the Rose of Love took the place of the red Roses of Pain; and Time, the Healer, threw farther back, day by day, the memories of trials surmounted61, and anguish62 subdued63 in its bitterness to the sweetness of resignation. And when, one day in the late autumn, when all the leaves were reddening beneath the frosts of night and the hushed, hidden grays of sombre days, Alice was rolled to the door of her cottage, and saw the old, familiar objects again; and the children clustered around her bath-chair with all kinds of presents of lovely flowers and purple and golden fruits; and as the poor, pale invalid64 stretched out her thin hands to the sky, and drew in long draughts65 of pure, sweet air, she trembled under the joy of her resurrection, and seemed to doubt whether, after all, her close little room, and the weary bed, and her own dread cross, and her crucifix, were not better. But now she understood that this recovery of hers was also God's holy will, and she bowed her head in thankfulness and wept tears of joy.
"This is the end," said he, mournfully. "I have written the bishop, demanding my exeat."
"It is bad, very bad," I replied.
"I suppose the Kilkeel gentlemen will come next," he said, "and then the bailiffs."
"The whole thing is melancholy," I replied; "it is one of those cases which a man requires all his fortitude66 and grace to meet."
"Well, I made a complete sacrifice of myself this morning at Mass," he said, gulping67 down his emotion; "but I didn't anticipate this blow from on high. Nevertheless, I don't for a moment regret or withdraw. What is that you quote about suffering:—
'... aspera, sed nutrix hominum bona'?
I'll make arrangements now to sell off everything, and then for
Breadths of tropic shade, and palms in cluster, knots of Paradise.'
But the name I leave behind me—Letheby!—Letheby! It will go down from generation to generation—a word of warning against shame and defeat. Dear me! how different the world looked twelve months ago! Who would have foreseen this? And I was growing so fond of my work, and my little home, and my books, and my choir70, and—and—the children!"
"Alice and Bittra have been pulled out of the fire unscathed," I said feebly. "Why may not you?"
"Ay, but they had physical and domestic troubles," he said; "but how can you get over disgrace?"
"That, too, may be overcome," I replied. "Is there not something about 'opprobrium71 hominum et abjectio plebis,' in Scripture72?"
"True," he said, "there it is. I am forever grasping at two remedies, or rather supports—work, work, work, and the Example you have quoted; and sometimes they swing me up over the precipices73 and then let me down into the abysses. It is a regular see-saw of exultation74 and despair!"
"Let me know, when you have heard from the bishop," I said; "somehow I believe that all will come right yet."
"No, no, Father Dan," he said, "it is only your good nature which you mistake for a happy presentiment75. Look out for a new curate."
The events of the afternoon, indeed, did not promise favorably for my forecast. About three o'clock, whilst Father Letheby was absent, a side-car drove into the village, from which two men alighted; and having made inquiries76, proceeded to Father Letheby's house, and told the bewildered and frightened Lizzie that they had come to take possession. Lizzie, like a good Irish girl, stormed and raged, and went for the police, and threatened the vengeance77 of the Superior Courts, at which they laughed and proceeded to settle themselves comfortably in the kitchen. Great fear fell, then, upon the village, and great wrath78 smouldered in many breasts; and, as surely as if they had lighted beacon-fires, or sent mounted couriers far and wide, the evil news was flashed into the remotest mountain nooks and down to the hermitages of the fishermen. And there was wrath, feeble and impotent, for here was the law, and behind the law was the omnipotence79 of England.
What Father Letheby endured that evening can only be conjectured80; but I sent word to Lizzie that he was to come up to my house absolutely and remain there until the hateful visitors had departed. This was sooner than we anticipated. Meanwhile, a few rather touching81 and characteristic scenes occurred. When the exact nature of Father Letheby's trouble became known, the popular indignation against the rebellious82 factory girls became so accentuated that they had to fly from the parish, and they finally made their way, as they had promised, to America. Their chief opponents now were the very persons that had hooted83 their substitutes through the village, and helped to close the factory finally. And two days after the bailiffs had appeared, an old woman, who had been bed-ridden for years with rheumatism84, managed to come down into the village, having got a "lift" from a neighbor, and she crept from the cart to my door. Father Letheby was absent; he hid himself in the mountains or in the sea-caves these dread days, never appearing in the village but to celebrate his morning Mass, snatch a hasty breakfast, and return late at night, when the shadows had fallen. Well, Ellen Cassidy made her way with some difficulty into my little parlor85, where, after I had recovered from my fright at the apparition86, I ventured to address her:—
"Why, Nell, you don't mean to say that this is yourself?"
"Well, Nell, wonders will never cease. I thought you would never leave that cabin until you left it feet foremost."
"Wisha, thin, your reverence, naither did I; but God give me the strinth to come down on this sorrowful journey."
"And what is it all about, Nell? Sure, you ought to be glad that the Lord gave you the use of your limbs again."
"Wisha, thin, your reverence, sure, 't is I'm wishing that I was in my sroud[8] in the cowld clay, before I saw this sorrowful day. Me poor gintleman! me poor gintleman! To think of all his throuble, and no wan88 to help him!"
"You mean Father Letheby's trouble, Nell?"
"Indeed, 'n' I do,—what else? Oh! wirra, wirra! to hear that me poor gintleman was gone to the cowld gaol89, where he is lying on the stone flure, and nothing but the black bread and the sour wather."
Whilst Nell was uttering this lonely threnody90, she was dragging out of the recesses91 of her bosom92 what appeared to be a red rag. This she placed on the table, whilst I watched her with interest. She then commenced to unroll this mummy, taking off layer after layer of rags, until she came to a crumpled93 piece of brown paper, all the time muttering her Jeremiad94 over her poor priest. Well, all things come to an end; and so did the evolutions of that singular purse. This last wrapper was unfolded, and there lay before me a pile of crumpled banknotes, a pile of sovereigns, and a handful of silver.
"'T isn't much, your reverence, but it is all I have. Take it and give it to that good gintleman, or thim who are houlding him, and sind him back to us agin."
"'T is a big sum of money, Nell, which a poor woman like you could hardly afford to give—"
"If it were tin millions times as much, your reverence, I'd give it to him, my darlin' gintleman. Sure, an' 't was he came to me up on that lonesome hill in all the rain and cowld of last winter; and 't was he said to me, 'Me poor woman, how do you live at all! And where's the kittle?' sez he; but sure, I had no kittle; but he took up a black burnt tin, and filled it with wather, and put the grain of tay in it, and brought it over to me; and thin he put his strong arm under my pillow, and lifted me up, and 'Come, me poor woman,' sez he, 'you must be wake from fastin'; take this; and thin he wint around like a 'uman and set things to rights; and I watchin' him and blessin' him all the time in my heart of hearts; and now to think of him without bite or sup;—wisha, tell me, your reverence," she said, abruptly95 changing her subject, "how much was it? Sure, I thought there was always a dacent living for our priests at Kilronan. But the times are bad, and the people are quare."
It needed all my eloquence96 and repeated asseverations to persuade her that Father Letheby was not gone to gaol as yet, and most probably would not go. And it was not disappointment, but a sense of personal injury and insult, that overshadowed her fine old face as I gathered up her money and returned it to her. She went back to her lonely cabin in misery97.
When Father Letheby came in and sat down to a late dinner, I told him all. He was deeply affected98.
"There is some tremendous mine of the gold of human excellence99 in these good people," he said; "but the avenues to it are so tortuous100 and difficult, it seems hardly worth while seeking for. They are capable of the most stupendous sacrifices provided they are out of the common; but it is the regular system and uniformity of the natural and human law that they despise. But have you any letter for me?"
"None. But here is a tremendous indictment101 against myself from Duff."
"No letter from the bishop?" he said despondently102, as he opened and read the letter, which ran thus:—
Atheloy, 13/10/7—.
Rev30. dear Father Dan:—How has all this miserable103 business occurred? Well, to our minds, you alone are culpable104 and responsible. We must seem to Letheby to be utter caitiffs and cowards, to allow matters to come to such a horrible crisis, especially in the case of a sensitive fellow like him. But up to the date of that horrible exposure in Stubbs', we had no idea there were complications with those factory people—nothing, in fact, beyond the responsibilities of that unhappy boat. Now, why didn't you let us know? You may not be aware that the evening of the disaster I made a solemn engagement to stand by him to the end; and now all this must seem the merest braggadocio105. And yet, the thing was a trifle. Would you tell Letheby now, that it will be all right in a few days, and to cheer up; no harm done, beyond a temporary humiliation! But we'll never dine with you again, and we shall, one and all, brave the Episcopal anger by refusing to be your curates when Letheby is promoted.
Yours, etc.,
Charles L. Duff, C. C.
"He's very kind, very kind, indeed," said Father Letheby, meditatively106; "but I cannot see how he is going to make it all right in a few days."
"It wouldn't surprise me much," I replied, "if that good young fellow had already put a sop107 in those calves108' mouths over there at Kilkeel."
"Impossible!" he cried.
"Well, time will tell."
I called down to see Alice and talk over things. It is wonderful what a clairvoyante she has become. She sees everything as in a magic mirror.
"I think the Holy Souls will come to his relief," she said, in a cool, calm way. "He has, I think, a great devotion to the Holy Souls. He told me once, when we were talking about holy things, that he makes a memento109 in every Mass of the most neglected and abandoned priest in purgatory110; but, sure, priests don't go to purgatory, Father Dan, do they?"
"Well, my dear, I cannot answer you in general terms; but there's one that will be certainly there before many years; and unless you and Father Letheby and Bittra pull him out by your prayers, I'm afraid—But continue what you were saying."
"He makes a memento, he said, for the most abandoned priest, and for the soul that is next to be released. And whenever he has not a special intention, he always gives his Mass to our Blessed Lady for that soul. Now, I think, that's very nice. Just imagine that poor soul waiting inside the big barred gates, and the angel probably her warder for many years, outside. They don't exchange a word. They are only waiting, waiting. Far within are the myriads111 of Holy Souls, praying, suffering, loving, hoping. There is a noise as of a million birds, fluttering their wings above the sea. But here at the gate is silence, silence. She dares not ask: When?—- because the angel does not know. Now and again he looks at her and smiles, and she is praying softly to herself. Suddenly there is a great light in the darkness overhead, and then there is a dawn on the night of purgatory; for a great spirit is coming down swiftly, swiftly, on wings of light, until he reaches the prison-house. Then he hands the warder-angel a letter from the Queen of Heaven; and in a moment, back swing the gates, and in plunges112 the guardian113 angel, and wraps up that expectant soul in his strong wings, and up, up, up, through starry114 night and sunny day they go, until they come into the singing heavens; and up along the great avenues of smiling angels, until at last the angel lays down that soul gently at the feet of Mary. And all this was done by a quiet priest in a remote, whitewashed115 chapel116, here by the Atlantic, and there was no one with him but the little boy who rang the bell."
I had been listening to this rhapsody with the greatest admiration117, when just then Bittra came in. She has got over the most acute period of her grief, "except when," she says, "she looks at the sea and thinks of what is there."
"Alice is prophesying," I said; "she is going to take Father Letheby out of his purgatory on Monday."
"Ah, no, Daddy Dan, that's not fair. But I think he will be relieved from his cross."
"And what about your own troubles, Alice?" said Bittra. "Is the healing process going on?"
"Yes, indeed, thank God," she replied, "except here and there."
Bittra was watching me curiously118. Now it is quite a certain fact, but I never dreamed of attaching any importance to it, that this child had recovered her perfect health, so far as that dreadful scrofulous affection extended, except in the palms of her hands and the soles of her feet, where there remained, to the doctor's intense disappointment, round, angry sores, about the size of a half-crown, and each surrounded with a nimbus of raw, red flesh, which bled periodically.
"And here, also," she said innocently this evening, "here on my side is a raw sore which sometimes is very painful and bleeds copiously119. I have not shown the doctor that; but he gets quite cross about my hands and feet."
"It is very curious," I said, in my own purblind120 fashion, "but I suppose the extremities121 heal last."
"I shall walk home with you, Father Dan, if you have no objection," said Bittra.
"Come along, child," I replied. "Now, Alice, we shall be watching Monday, All Souls' Day."
"Very well, Daddy Dan," she said, smiling. "Everything will come right, as we shall see."
As we walked through the village, Bittra said to me wonderingly:—
"Isn't it curious about those sores, Father? They won't heal."
"I have been thinking a lot about it," she said.
"And the result of your most wise meditations123?"
"You'll laugh at me."
"Never. I never laugh. I never allow myself to pass beyond the genteel limits of a smile."
"Then I think—but—"
"Say it out, child. What are you thinking of?"
"I think it is the stigmata," she said, blushing furiously.
I was struck silent. It was too grand. Could it be? Had we a real, positive saint amongst us?
"What do you think, Father Dan? Are you angry?"
"God forbid, child. But tell me, have you spoken to Alice on the matter?"
"Oh, dear no! I wouldn't dream of such a thing. It would give her an awful shock."
"Well, we'll keep it a profound secret, and await further revelations. 'Abscondisti hæc a prudentibus, et revelasti ea parvulis.'"
But next evening, I think I threw additional fervor124 into the Laudate's and Benedicite's at Lauds125.
But as I looked at Father Letheby across the table in the lamplight, and saw his drawn126, sallow cheeks and sunken eyes, and the white patch of hair over his ears, I could not help saying to myself: "You, too, have got your stigmata, my poor fellow!"
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1
humiliation
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| n.羞辱 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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discredit
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| vt.使不可置信；n.丧失信义；不信，怀疑 | |
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rampant
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| adj.(植物)蔓生的；狂暴的，无约束的 | |
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besmirch
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| v.污，糟蹋 | |
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folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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bishop
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| n.主教，（国际象棋）象 | |
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brazen
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| adj.厚脸皮的，无耻的，坚硬的 | |
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fervid
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| adj.热情的；炽热的 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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consolations
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| n.安慰，慰问( consolation的名词复数 )；起安慰作用的人（或事物） | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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sleepless
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| adj.不睡眠的，睡不著的，不休息的 | |
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yearned
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| 渴望，切盼，向往( yearn的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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aggravating
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| adj.恼人的，讨厌的 | |
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prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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faculties
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| n.能力( faculty的名词复数 )；全体教职员；技巧；院 | |
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tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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transformation
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| n.变化；改造；转变 | |
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upwards
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| adv.向上，在更高处...以上 | |
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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ingenuous
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| adj.纯朴的，单纯的；天真的；坦率的 | |
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candor
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| n.坦白，率真 | |
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accentuated
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| v.重读( accentuate的过去式和过去分词 )；使突出；使恶化；加重音符号于 | |
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hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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rev
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| v.发动机旋转，加快速度 | |
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reverent
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| adj.恭敬的，虔诚的 | |
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contemplate
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| vt.盘算，计议；周密考虑；注视，凝视 | |
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shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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realization
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| n.实现；认识到，深刻了解 | |
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eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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callous
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| adj.无情的，冷淡的，硬结的，起老茧的 | |
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immortality
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| n.不死，不朽 | |
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solace
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| n.安慰；v.使快乐；vt.安慰(物)，缓和 | |
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remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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nuptial
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| adj.婚姻的，婚礼的 | |
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consultation
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| n.咨询；商量；商议；会议 | |
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supreme
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| adj.极度的，最重要的；至高的，最高的 | |
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45
afflicted
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| 使受痛苦，折磨( afflict的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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46
mingling
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| adj.混合的 | |
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47
chalice
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| n.圣餐杯；金杯毒酒 | |
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48
delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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49
investigation
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| n.调查，调查研究 | |
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50
exempt
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| adj.免除的；v.使免除；n.免税者，被免除义务者 | |
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51
tonics
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| n.滋补品( tonic的名词复数 )；主音；奎宁水；浊音 | |
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52
partially
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| adv.部分地，从某些方面讲 | |
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53
hips
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| abbr.high impact polystyrene 高冲击强度聚苯乙烯，耐冲性聚苯乙烯n.臀部( hip的名词复数 )；[建筑学]屋脊；臀围（尺寸）；臀部…的 | |
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54
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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55
tainted
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| adj.腐坏的；污染的；沾污的；感染的v.使变质( taint的过去式和过去分词 )；使污染；败坏；被污染，腐坏，败坏 | |
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56
fluffy
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| adj.有绒毛的，空洞的 | |
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57
glossy
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| adj.平滑的；有光泽的 | |
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58
animate
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| v.赋于生命，鼓励；adj.有生命的，有生气的 | |
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59
withered
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| adj. 枯萎的，干瘪的，（人身体的部分器官）因病萎缩的或未发育良好的 动词wither的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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60
sprout
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| n.芽，萌芽；vt.使发芽，摘去芽；vi.长芽，抽条 | |
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61
surmounted
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| 战胜( surmount的过去式和过去分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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62
anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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63
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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64
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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65
draughts
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| n. <英>国际跳棋 | |
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66
fortitude
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| n.坚忍不拔；刚毅 | |
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67
gulping
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| v.狼吞虎咽地吃，吞咽( gulp的现在分词 )；大口地吸（气）；哽住 | |
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68
constellations
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| n.星座( constellation的名词复数 )；一群杰出人物；一系列（相关的想法、事物）；一群（相关的人） | |
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69
mellow
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| adj.柔和的；熟透的；v.变柔和；(使)成熟 | |
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70
choir
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| n.唱诗班，唱诗班的席位，合唱团，舞蹈团；v.合唱 | |
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71
opprobrium
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| n.耻辱，责难 | |
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72
scripture
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| n.经文，圣书，手稿；Scripture:(常用复数)《圣经》，《圣经》中的一段 | |
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73
precipices
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| n.悬崖，峭壁( precipice的名词复数 ) | |
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74
exultation
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| n.狂喜，得意 | |
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75
presentiment
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| n.预感，预觉 | |
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76
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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77
vengeance
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| n.报复，报仇，复仇 | |
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78
wrath
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| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
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79
omnipotence
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| n.全能，万能，无限威力 | |
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80
conjectured
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| 推测，猜测，猜想( conjecture的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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81
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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82
rebellious
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| adj.造反的，反抗的，难控制的 | |
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83
hooted
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| （使）作汽笛声响，作汽车喇叭声( hoot的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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84
rheumatism
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| n.风湿病 | |
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85
parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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86
apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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87
reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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88
wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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89
gaol
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| n.(jail)监狱；(不加冠词)监禁；vt.使…坐牢 | |
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90
threnody
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| n.挽歌，哀歌 | |
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91
recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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92
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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93
crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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94
jeremiad
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| n.悲欢；悲诉 | |
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95
abruptly
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| adv.突然地，出其不意地 | |
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96
eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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97
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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98
affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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99
excellence
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| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
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100
tortuous
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| adj.弯弯曲曲的，蜿蜒的 | |
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101
indictment
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| n.起诉；诉状 | |
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102
despondently
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| adv.沮丧地，意志消沉地 | |
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103
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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104
culpable
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| adj.有罪的，该受谴责的 | |
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105
braggadocio
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| n.吹牛大王 | |
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106
meditatively
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| adv.冥想地 | |
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107
sop
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| n.湿透的东西，懦夫；v.浸，泡，浸湿 | |
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108
calves
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| n.(calf的复数)笨拙的男子，腓；腿肚子( calf的名词复数 )；牛犊；腓；小腿肚v.生小牛( calve的第三人称单数 )；（冰川）崩解；生（小牛等），产（犊）；使（冰川）崩解 | |
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109
memento
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| n.纪念品，令人回忆的东西 | |
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110
purgatory
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| n.炼狱；苦难；adj.净化的，清洗的 | |
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111
myriads
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| n.无数，极大数量( myriad的名词复数 ) | |
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112
plunges
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| n.跳进，投入vt.使投入，使插入，使陷入vi.投入，跳进，陷入v.颠簸( plunge的第三人称单数 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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113
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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114
starry
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| adj.星光照耀的, 闪亮的 | |
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115
whitewashed
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| 粉饰，美化，掩饰( whitewash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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116
chapel
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| n.小教堂，殡仪馆 | |
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117
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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118
curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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119
copiously
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| adv.丰富地，充裕地 | |
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120
purblind
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| adj.半盲的；愚笨的 | |
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121
extremities
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| n.端点( extremity的名词复数 )；尽头；手和足；极窘迫的境地 | |
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122
musingly
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| adv.沉思地，冥想地 | |
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123
meditations
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| 默想( meditation的名词复数 )； 默念； 沉思； 冥想 | |
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124
fervor
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| n.热诚；热心；炽热 | |
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125
lauds
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| v.称赞，赞美( laud的第三人称单数 ) | |
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126
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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