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CHAPTER V
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 "O, the land is fine, fine,
     I could buy it a' for mine,
   For ma gowd's as the stooks in Strathairlie."
Scots Song.
 
When Peter Reid arrived at Priorsford Station from London he stood for a few minutes looking about him in a lost way, almost as if after thirty years he expected to see a "kent face" coming to meet him. He had no -notion where to go; he had not written for rooms; he had simply obeyed the impulse that sent him—the impulse that sends a hurt child to its mother. It is said that an old horse near to death turns towards the pastures where he was foaled. It is true of human beings. "Man wanders back to the fields which bred him."
 
After a talk with a helpful porter he found rooms in a temperance hotel in the Highgate—a comfortable quiet place.
 
The next day he was too tired to rise, and spent rather a dreary2 day in his rooms with the Scotsman for sole companion.
 
The landlord, a cheery little man, found time once or twice to talk for a few minutes, but he had only been ten years in Priorsford and could tell his guest nothing of the people he had once known.
 
"D'you know a house called The Rigs?" he asked him.
 
The landlord knew it well—a quaint3 cottage with a pretty garden. Old Miss Alison Jardine was living in it when he came first to Priorsford; dead now, but the young folk were still in it.
 
"Young folk?" said Peter Reid.
 
"Yes," said the landlord, "Miss Jean Jardine and her brothers. Orphans4, I'm told. Father an Anglo-Indian. Nice people? Oh, very. Quiet and inoffensive. They don't own the house, though. I hear the landlord is a very wealthy man in London. By the way, same name as yourself, sir."
 
"Do I look like a millionaire?" asked Peter Reid, and the landlord laughed pleasantly and non-committally.
 
The next day was sunny and Peter Reid went out for a walk. It was a different Priorsford that he had come back to. A large draper's shop with plate-glass windows occupied the corner where Jenny Baxter had rolled her toffee-balls and twisted her "gundy," and where old Davy Linton had cut joints5 and weighed out mince-collops accompanied by wise weather prophecies, a smart fruiterer's shop now stood furnished with a wealth of fruit and vegetables unimagined in his young days. There were many handsome shops, the streets were wider and better kept, unsightly houses had been demolished6; it was a clean, prosperous-looking town, but it was different.
 
Peter Reid (of London) would have been the first to carp at the tumbledown irregular old houses, with their three steps up and three steps down, remaining, but Peter Reid (of Priorsford) missed them. He resented the new shops, the handsome villas8, the many motors, all the evidences of prosperity.
 
And why had Cuddy Brig been altered?
 
It had been far liker the thing, he thought—the old hump-backed bridge with the grass and ferns growing in the crannies. He had waded9 in Cuddy when he was a boy, picking his way among the broken dishes and the tin cans, and finding wonderful adventures in the dark of the bridge; he had bathed in it as it wound, clear and shining, among the green meadows outside the town, and run "skirl-naked" to dry himself, in full sight of scandalised passengers in the Edinburgh train; he had slid on it in winter. The memory of the little stream had always lain in the back of his mind as something precious—and now to find it spanned by a staring new stone bridge. Those Town Councils with their improvements!
 
Even Tweed Bridge had not been left alone. It had been widened, as an inscription10 in the middle told the world at large. He leant on it and looked up the river. Peel Tower was the same, anyway. No one had dared to add one cubit to its grey stature11. It was a satisfaction to look at something so unchanging.
 
The sun had still something of its summer heat, and it was pleasant to stand there and listen to the sound of the river over the pebbles12 and see the flaming trees reflected in the blue water all the way up Tweedside till the river took a wide curve before the green slope on which the castle stood. A wonderfully pretty place, Priorsford, he told himself: a home-like place—if one had anyone to come home to.
 
He turned slowly away. He would go and look at The Rigs. His mother had come to it as a bride. He had been born there. Though occupied by strangers, it was the nearest he had to a home. The house in Prince's Gate was well furnished, comfortable, smoothly13 run by efficient servants, but only a house when all was said. He felt he would like to creep into The Rigs, into the sitting-room14 where his mother had always sat (the other larger rooms, the "good room" as it was called, was kept for visitors and high days), and lay his tired body on the horsehair arm-chair by the fireside. He could rest there, he thought. It was impossible, of course. There would be no horsehair arm-chair, for everything had been sold—and there was no mother.
 
But, anyway, he would go and look at it. There used to be primroses15—but this was autumn. Primroses come in the spring.
 
Thirty years—but The Rigs was not changed, at least not outwardly. Old Mrs. Reid had loved the garden, and Great-aunt Alison, and Jean after her, had carried on her work.
 
The little house looked just as Peter Reid remembered it.
 
He would go in and ask to see it, he told himself.
 
He would tell these Jardines that the house was his and he meant to live in it himself. They wouldn't like it, but he couldn't help that. Perhaps he would be able to persuade them to go almost at once. He would make it worth their while.
 
He was just going to lift the latch16 of the gate when the front door opened and shut, and Jean Jardine came down the flagged path. She stopped at the gate and looked at Peter Reid.
 
"Were you by any chance coming in?" she asked.
 
"Yes," said Mr. Reid; "I was going to ask if I might see over the house."
 
"Surely," said Jean. "But—you're not going to buy it, are you?"
 
The face she turned to him was pink and distressed17.
 
"Did you think of buying it yourself?" Peter Reid asked.
 
"Me? You wouldn't ask that if you knew how little money I have. But come in. I shall try to think of all its faults to tell you—but in my eyes it hasn't got any."
 
They went slowly up the flagged path and into the square, low-roofed hall. This was not as his mother had it. Then the floor had been covered with linoleum18 on which had stood two hard chairs and an umbrella-stand. Now there was an oak chest and a gate-table, old brass19 very well rubbed up, a grandfather clock with a "clear" face, and a polished floor with a Chinese rug on it.
 
"It is rather dark," said Jean, "but I like it dark. Coming in on a hot summer day it is almost like a pool; it is so cool and dark and polished." Mr. Reid said nothing, and Jean was torn between a desire to have her home appreciated and a desire to have this stranger take an instant dislike to it, and to leave it speedily and for ever.
 
"You see," she pointed20 out, "the little staircase is rather steep and winding21, but it is short; and the bedrooms are charming—not very big, but so prettily22 shaped and with lovely views." Then she remembered that she should miscall rather than praise, and added, "Of course, they have all got queer ceilings; you couldn't expect anything else in a cottage. Will you go upstairs?"
 
Mr. Reid thought not, and asked if he might see the sitting-rooms.
"This," said Jean, opening a door, "is the dining-room."
It was the room his mother had always sat in, where the horsehair arm-chair had had its home, but it, too, had suffered a change. Gone was the arm-chair, gone the round table with the crimson23 cover. This room had an austerity unknown in the room he remembered. It was small, and every inch of space was made the most of. An old Dutch dresser held china and acted as a sideboard; a bare oak table, having in its centre a large blue bowl filled with berries and red leaves, stood in the middle of the room; eight chairs completed the furniture.
 
"This is the least nice room in the house," Jean told him, "but we are never in it except to eat. It looks out on the road."
 
"Yes," said Peter Reid, remembering that that was why his mother had liked it. She could sit with her knitting and watch the passers-by. She had always "infused" the tea when she heard the click of the gate as he came home from school.
 
"You will like to see the living-room," said Jean, shivering for the effect its charm might have on a potential purchaser. She led him in, hoping that it might be looking its worst, but, as if in sheer contrariness, the fire was burning brightly, a shaft24 of sunlight lay across a rug, making the colours glow like jewels, and the whole room seemed to hold out welcoming hands. It was satisfactory (though somewhat provoking) that the stranger seemed quite unimpressed.
 
"You have some good furniture," he said.
 
"Yes," Jean agreed eagerly. "It suits the room and makes it beautiful. Can you imagine it furnished with a 'suite25' and ordinary pictures, and draped curtains at the windows and silver photograph frames and a grand piano? It would simply be no sort of room at all. All its individuality would be gone. But won't you sit down and rest? That hill up from the town is steep."
 
Peter Reid sank thankfully into a corner of the sofa, while Jean busied herself at the writing-table so that this visitor, who looked so tired, need not feel that he should offer conversation.
 
Presently he said, "You are very fond of The Rigs?"
 
Jean came and sat down beside him.
 
"It's the only home we have ever known," she said. "We came here from India to live with our great-aunt—first me alone, and then David and Jock. And Father and Mother were with us when Father had leave. I have hardly ever been away from The Rigs. It's such a very affectionate sort of house—perhaps that is rather an absurd thing to say, but you do get so fond of it. But if I take you in to see Mrs. M'Cosh in the kitchen she will tell you plenty of faults. The water doesn't heat well, for one thing, and the range simply eats up coal, and there is no proper pantry. Your wife would want to know about these things."
 
"Haven't got a wife," said Peter Reid gruffly.
 
"No? Well, your housekeeper26, then. You couldn't buy a house without getting to know all about the hot water and pantries."
 
"There is no question of my buying it."
 
"Oh, isn't there?" cried Jean joyfully27. "What a relief! All the time I've been showing you the house I've been picturing us removing sadly to a villa7 in the Langhope Road. They are quite nice villas as villas go, but they have only tiny strips of gardens, and stairs that come to meet you as you go in at the front door, and anyway no house could ever be home to us after The Rigs—not though it had hot and cold water in every room and a pantry on every floor."
 
"Dear me," said Peter Reid.
 
He felt perplexed28, and annoyed with himself for being perplexed. All he had to do was to tell this girl with the frank eyes that The Rigs was his, that he wanted to live in it himself, that if they would turn out at once he would make it worth their while. Quite simple—They were nice people evidently, and would make no fuss. He would say it now—but Jean was speaking.
 
"I think I know why you wanted to see through this house," she was saying. "I think you must have known it long ago when you were a boy. Perhaps you loved it too—and had to leave it."
 
"I went to London when I was eighteen to make my fortune."
 
"Oh," said Jean, and into that "Oh" she put all manner of things she could not say. She had been observing her visitor, and she was sure that this shabby little man (Peter Reid cared not at all for appearances and never bought a new suit of clothes unless compelled) had returned no Whittington, Lord Mayor of London. Probably he was one of the "faithful failures" of the world, one who had tried and missed, and had come back, old and tired and shabby, to see his boyhood's home. The tenderest corner of Jean's tender heart was given to shabby people, and she longed to try to comfort and console, but dared not in case of appearing impertinent. She reflected dismally30 that he had not even a wife to be nice to him, and he was far too old to have a mother.
 
"Are you staying in Priorsford?" she asked gently.
 
"I'm at the Temperance Hotel for a few days. I—the fact is, I haven't been well. I had to take a rest, so I came back here—after thirty years."
 
"Have you really been away for thirty years? Great-aunt Alison came to The Rigs first about thirty years ago. Do you, by any chance, know our landlord in London? Mr. Peter Reid is his name."
 
"I know him."
 
"He's frightfully rich, they say. I don't suppose you know him well enough to ask him not to sell The Rigs? It can't make much difference to him, though it means so much to us. Is he old, our landlord?"
 
"A man in his prime," said Peter Reid.
 
"That's pretty old, isn't it?" said Jean—"about sixty, I think. Of course," hastily, "sixty isn't really old. When I'm sixty—if I'm spared—I expect I shall feel myself good for another twenty years."
 
"I thought I was," said Peter Reid, "until I broke down."
 
"Oh, but a rest at Priorsford will put you all right."
 
Could he afford a holiday? she wondered. Even temperance hotels were rather expensive when you hadn't much money. Would it be very rash and impulsive31 to ask him to stay at The Rigs?
 
"Are you comfortable at the Temperance?" she asked. "Because if you don't much care for hotels we would love to put you up here. Mhor is apt to be noisy, but I'm sure he would try to be quiet when he knew that you needed a rest."
 
"My dear young lady," gasped32 Peter Reid. "I'm afraid you are rash. You know nothing of me. I might be an impostor, a burglar—"
 
Jean threw back her head and laughed. "Do forgive me, but the thought of you with a jemmy and a dark lantern is so funny."
 
"You don't even know my name."
 
"I don't," said Jean, "but does that matter? You will tell it me when you want to."
 
"My name is Reid, the same as your landlord."
 
"Then," said Jean, "are you a relative of his?"
 
"A connection." It was not what he meant to say, but he said it.
 
"How odd!" said Jean. She was trying to remember if she had said anything unbecoming of one relative to another. "Oh, here's Jock and Mhor," as two figures ran past the windows; "you must stay and have tea with us, Mr. Reid."
 
"But I ought to be getting back to the hotel. I had no intention of inflicting33 myself on you in this way." He rose to his feet and looked about for his hat. "The fact is—I must tell you—I am——"
 
The door burst open and Mhor appeared. He had forgotten to remove his cap, or wipe his muddy boots, so eager was he to tell his news.
 
"Jean," he shouted, oblivious34 in his excitement of the presence of a stranger—"Jean, there are six red puddock-stools at the bottom of the garden—bright red puddock-stools." He noticed Mr. Reid and, going up to him and looking earnestly into his face, he repeated, "Six!"
 
"Indeed," said Peter Reid.
 
He had no acquaintance with boys, and felt extremely ill at ease, but Mhor, after studying him for a minute, was seized with a violent fancy for this new friend.
 
"You're going to stay to tea, aren't you? Would you mind coming with me just now to look at the puddock-stools? It might be too dark after tea. Here is your hat."
 
"But I'm not staying to tea," cried the unhappy owner of The Rigs. Why, he asked himself had he not told them at once that he was their landlord? A connection! Fool that he was! He would say it now—"I only came—"
 
"It was very nice of you to come," said Jean soothingly35. "But, Mhor, don't worry Mr. Reid. Everybody hasn't your passion for puddock-stools."
 
"But you would like to see them," Mhor assured him. "I'm going to fill a bowl with chucky-stones and moss36 and stick the puddock-stools among them and make a fairy garden for Jean. And if I can find any more I'll make one for the Honourable37; she is very kind about giving me chocolates."
 
They were out of doors by this time, and Mhor was pointing out the glories of the garden.
 
"You see, we have a burn in our garden with a little bridge over it; almost no one else has a burn and a bridge of their very own. There are minnows in it and all sorts of things—water-beetles, you know. And here are my puddock-stools."
 
When Mr. Reid came back from the garden Mhor had firm hold of his hand and was telling him a long story about a "mavis-bird" that the cat had caught and eaten.
 
"Tea's ready," he said, as they entered the room; "you can't go away now, Mr. Reid. See these cookies? I went for them myself to Davidson the baker's, and they were so hot and new-baked that the bag burst and they all fell out on the road."
 
"Mhor! You horrid38 little boy."
 
"They're none the worse, Jean. I dusted them all with me useful little hanky, and the road wasn't so very dirty."
 
"All the same," said Jean, "I think we'll leave the cookies to you and
Jock. The other things are baked at home, Mr. Reid, and are quite safe.
Mhor, tell Jock tea's in, and wash your hands."
So Peter Reid found himself, like Balaam, remaining to bless. After all, why should he turn these people out of their home? A few years (with care) was all the length of days promised to him, and it mattered little where he spent them. Indeed, so little profitable did leisure seem to him that he cared little when the end came. Mhor and his delight over a burn of his own, and a garden that grew red puddock-stools, had made up his mind for him. He would never be the angel with the flaming sword who turned Mhor out of paradise. He had not known that a boy could be such a pleasant person. He had avoided children as he had avoided women, and now he found himself seated, the centre of interest, at a family tea-table, with Jean, anxiously making tea to his liking39, while Mhor (with a well-soaped, shining face, but a high-water mark of dirt where the sponge had not reached) sat close beside him, and Jock, the big schoolboy, shyly handed him scones40: and Peter walked among the feet of the company, waiting for what he could get.
 
Peter Reid quite shone through the meal. He remembered episodes of his boyhood, forgotten for forty years, and told them to Jock and Mhor, who listened with most gratifying interest. He questioned Jock about Priorsford Grammar School, and recalled stories of the masters who had taught there in his day.
 
Jean told him about David going to Oxford41, and about Great-aunt Alison who had "come out at the Disruption"—about her father's life in India, and about her mother, and he became every minute more human and interested. He even made one or two small jokes which were received with great applause by Jock and Mhor, who were grateful to anyone who tried, however feebly, to be funny. They would have said with Touchstone, "It is meat and drink to me to see a clown."
 
Jean watched with delight her rather difficult guest blossom into affability. "You are looking better already," she told him. "If you stayed here for a week and rested and Mrs. M'Cosh cooked you light, nourishing food and Mhor didn't make too much noise, I'm sure you would feel quite well again. And it does seem such a pity to pay hotel bills when we want you here."
 
Hotel bills! Peter Reid looked sharply at her. Did she imagine, this girl, that hotel bills were of any moment to him? Then he looked down at his shabby clothes and recalled their conversation and owned that her mistake was not unjustifiable.
 
But how extraordinary it was! The instinct that makes people wish to stand well with the rich and powerful he could understand and commend, but the instinct that opens wide doors to the shabby and the unsuccessful was not one that he knew anything about: it was certainly not an instinct for this world as he knew it.
 
Just as they were finishing tea Mrs. M'Cosh ushered42 in Miss Pamela
Reston.
"You did say I might come in when I liked," she said as she greeted Jean. "I've had tea, thank you. Mhor, you haven't been to see me to-day."
 
"I would have been," Mhor assured her, "but Jean said I'd better not. Do you invite me to come to-morrow?"
 
"I do."
 
"There, Jean," said Mhor. "You can't un-vite me after that."
 
"Indeed she can't," said Pamela. "Jock, this is the book I told you about…. Please, Miss Jean, don't let me disturb you."
 
"We've finished," said Jean. "May I introduce Mr. Reid?"
 
Pamela shook hands and at once proceeded to make herself so charming that Peter Reid was galvanised into a spirited conversation. Pamela had brought her embroidery43-frame with her, and she sat on the sofa and sorted out silks, and talked and laughed as if she had sat there off and on all her life. To Jean, looking at her, it seemed impossible that two days ago none of them had beheld44 her. It seemed—absurdly enough—that the room could never have looked quite right when it had not this graceful45 creature with her soft gowns and her pearls, her embroidery-frame and heaped, bright-hued silks sitting by the fire.
 
"Miss Jean, won't you sing us a song? I'm convinced that you sing Scots songs quite perfectly46."
 
Jean laughed. "I can sing Scots songs in a way, but I have a voice about as big as a sparrow's. If it would amuse you I'll try."
 
So Jean sat down to the piano and sang "Proud Maisie," and "Colin's
Cattle," and one or two other old songs.
"I wonder," said Peter Reid, "if you know a song my mother used to sing—'Strathairlie'?"
 
"Indeed I do. It's one I like very much. I have it here in this little book." She struck a few simple chords and began to sing: it was a lilting, haunting tune29, and the words were "old and plain."
 
   "O, the lift is high and blue,
    And the new mune glints through,
  On the bonnie corn-fields o' Strathairlie;
    Ma ship's in Largo47 Bay,
    And I ken1 weel the way
  Up the steep, steep banks o' Strathairlie.
    When I sailed ower the sea,
    A laddie bold and free,
  The corn sprang green on Strathairlie!
    When I come back again,
    It's an auld48 man walks his lane
  Slow and sad ower the fields o' Strathairlie.
    O' the shearers that I see
    No' a body kens49 me,
  Though I kent them a' in Strathairlie;
    An' the fisher-wife I pass,
    Can she be the braw lass
  I kissed at the back o' Strathairlie?
  O, the land is fine, fine,
    I could buy it a' for mine,
  For ma gowd's as the stooks in Strathairlie;
    But I fain the lad would be
    Wha sailed ower the saut sea
  When the dawn rose grey on Strathairlie."
Jean rose from the piano. Jock had got out his books and had begun his lessons. Mhor and Peter were under the table playing at being cave-men. Pamela was stitching at her embroidery. Peter Reid sat shading his eyes from the light with his hand.
 
Jean knelt down on the rug and held out her hands to the blazing fire.
 
"It must be sad to be old and rich," she said softly, almost as if she were speaking to herself. "It is so very certain that we can carry nothing out of this world…. I read somewhere of a man who, on every birthday, gave away some of his possessions so that at the end he might not be cumbered and weighted with them." She looked up and caught the gaze of Peter Reid fixed50 on her intently. "It's rather a nice idea, don't you think, to give away all the superfluous51 money and lands, pictures and jewels, everything we have, and stand stripped, as it were, ready when we get the word to come, to leap into the beyond?"
 
Pamela spoke52 first. "There speaks sweet and twenty," she said.
 
"Yes," said Jean. "I know it's quite easy for me to speak in that lordly way of disposing of possessions, for I haven't got any to dispose of."
 
"Then," said Pamela, "we are to take it that you are ready to spring across any minute?"
 
"So far as goods and gear go; but I'm rich in other things. I'm pretty heavily weighted by David, and Jock, and Mhor."
 
Then Peter Reid spoke, still with his hand over his eyes.
 
"Once you begin to make money it clings. How can you get rid of it?"
 
"I'm saving up for a bicycle," the Mhor broke in, becoming aware that the conversation turned on money. "I've got half a crown and a thru-penny-bit and fourpence-ha'penny in pennies: and I've got a duster to clean it with when I've got it."
 
Jean stroked his head. "I don't think you'll ever be overburdened with riches, Mhor, old man. But it must be tremendous fun to be rich. I love books where suddenly a lawyer's letter comes saying that someone has left them a fortune."
 
"What would you do with a fortune if you got it?" Peter Reid asked.
 
"Need you ask?" laughed Pamela. "Miss Jean would at once make it over to
David and Jock and Mhor."
"Oh, well," said Jean, "of course they would come first, but, oh, I would do such a lot of things! I'd find out where money was most needed and drop it on the people anonymously53 so that they wouldn't be bothered about thanking anyone. I would creep about like a beneficent Puck and take worried frowns away, and straighten out things for tired people, and, above all, I'd make children smile. There's no fun or satisfaction got from giving big sums to hospitals and things—that's all right for when you're dead. I want to make happiness while I'm alive. I don't think a million pounds would be too much for all I want to do."
 
"Aw, Jean," said Mhor, "if you had a million pounds would you buy me a bicycle?"
 
"A bicycle," said Jean, "and a motor and an aeroplane and a Shetland pony54 and a Newfoundland pup. I'll make a story for you in bed to-night all about what you would have if I were rich."
 
"And Jock, too?"
 
Being assured that Jock would not be overlooked Mhor grabbed Peter round the neck and proceeded to babble55 to him about bicycles and aeroplanes, motors and Newfoundland pups.
 
Jean looked apologetically at her guests.
 
"When you're poor you've got to dream," she said. "Oh, must you go, Mr. Reid? But you'll come back to-morrow, won't you? We would honestly like you to come and stay with us."
 
"Thank you," said Peter Reid, "but I am going back to London in a day or two. I am obliged to you for your hospitality, especially for singing me 'Strathairlie.' I never thought to hear it again. I wonder if I might trouble you to write me out the words."
 
"But take the book," said Jean, running to get it and pressing it into his hands. "Perhaps you'll find other songs in it you used to know and like. Take it to keep."
 
Pamela dropped her embroidery-frame and watched the scene.
 
Mhor and Peter stood looking on. Jock lifted his head from his books to listen. It was no new thing for the boys to see Jean give away her most treasured possessions: she was a born "Madam Liberality."
 
"But," Peter Reid objected, "it is rather a rare book. You value it yourself."
 
"Of course I do," said Jean, "and that is why I am giving it to you. I know you will appreciate it."
 
Peter Reid took the book as if it was something fragile and very precious. Pamela was puzzled by the expression on his face. He did not seem so much touched by the gift as amused—sardonically amused.
 
"Thank you," he said. And again, "Thank you!"
 
"Jock will go down with you to the hotel," Jean said, explaining, when the visitor demurred56, that the road was steep and not very well lighted.
 
"I'll go too," said Mhor, "me and Peter."
 
"Well, come straight back. Good-bye, Mr. Reid. I'm so glad you came to see The Rigs, but I wish you could have stayed…."
 
"Is he an old friend?" Pamela asked, when the cavalcade57 had departed.
 
"I never saw him before to-day. He once lived in this house and he came back to see it, and he looks ill and I think he is poor, so I asked him to come and stay with us for a week."
 
"My dear child, do you invite every stranger to stay with you if you think he is poor?"
 
"Of course not. But he looked so lonely and lost somehow, and he doesn't seem to have anyone belonging to him, and I was sorry for him."
 
"And so you gave him that song-book you value so much?"
 
"Yes," said Jean, looking rather ashamed. "But," she brightened, "he seemed pleased, don't you think? It's a pretty song, 'Strathairlie,' but it's not a pukka old one—it's early Victorian."
 
"Miss Jean, it's a marvel58 to me that you have anything left belonging to you."
 
"Don't call me Miss Jean!"
 
"Jean, then; but you must call me Pamela."
 
"Oh, but wouldn't that be rather familiar? You see, you are so—so—"
 
"Stricken in years," Pamela supplied.
 
"No—but—well, you are rather impressive, you know. It would be like calling Miss Bathgate 'Bella' to her face. However—Pamela—"

点击收听单词发音收听单词发音  

1 ken k3WxV     
n.视野,知识领域
参考例句:
  • Such things are beyond my ken.我可不懂这些事。
  • Abstract words are beyond the ken of children.抽象的言辞超出小孩所理解的范围.
2 dreary sk1z6     
adj.令人沮丧的,沉闷的,单调乏味的
参考例句:
  • They live such dreary lives.他们的生活如此乏味。
  • She was tired of hearing the same dreary tale of drunkenness and violence.她听够了那些关于酗酒和暴力的乏味故事。
3 quaint 7tqy2     
adj.古雅的,离奇有趣的,奇怪的
参考例句:
  • There were many small lanes in the quaint village.在这古香古色的村庄里,有很多小巷。
  • They still keep some quaint old customs.他们仍然保留着一些稀奇古怪的旧风俗。
4 orphans edf841312acedba480123c467e505b2a     
孤儿( orphan的名词复数 )
参考例句:
  • The poor orphans were kept on short commons. 贫苦的孤儿们吃不饱饭。
  • Their uncle was declared guardian to the orphans. 这些孤儿的叔父成为他们的监护人。
5 joints d97dcffd67eca7255ca514e4084b746e     
接头( joint的名词复数 ); 关节; 公共场所(尤指价格低廉的饮食和娱乐场所) (非正式); 一块烤肉 (英式英语)
参考例句:
  • Expansion joints of various kinds are fitted on gas mains. 各种各样的伸缩接头被安装在煤气的总管道上了。
  • Expansion joints of various kinds are fitted on steam pipes. 各种各样的伸缩接头被安装在蒸气管道上了。
6 demolished 3baad413d6d10093a39e09955dfbdfcb     
v.摧毁( demolish的过去式和过去分词 );推翻;拆毁(尤指大建筑物);吃光
参考例句:
  • The factory is due to be demolished next year. 这个工厂定于明年拆除。
  • They have been fighting a rearguard action for two years to stop their house being demolished. 两年来,为了不让拆除他们的房子,他们一直在进行最后的努力。
7 villa xHayI     
n.别墅,城郊小屋
参考例句:
  • We rented a villa in France for the summer holidays.我们在法国租了一幢别墅消夏。
  • We are quartered in a beautiful villa.我们住在一栋漂亮的别墅里。
8 villas 00c79f9e4b7b15e308dee09215cc0427     
别墅,公馆( villa的名词复数 ); (城郊)住宅
参考例句:
  • Magnificent villas are found throughout Italy. 在意大利到处可看到豪华的别墅。
  • Rich men came down from wealthy Rome to build sea-side villas. 有钱人从富有的罗马来到这儿建造海滨别墅。
9 waded e8d8bc55cdc9612ad0bc65820a4ceac6     
(从水、泥等)蹚,走过,跋( wade的过去式和过去分词 )
参考例句:
  • She tucked up her skirt and waded into the river. 她撩起裙子蹚水走进河里。
  • He waded into the water to push the boat out. 他蹚进水里把船推出来。
10 inscription l4ZyO     
n.(尤指石块上的)刻印文字,铭文,碑文
参考例句:
  • The inscription has worn away and can no longer be read.铭文已磨损,无法辨认了。
  • He chiselled an inscription on the marble.他在大理石上刻碑文。
11 stature ruLw8     
n.(高度)水平,(高度)境界,身高,身材
参考例句:
  • He is five feet five inches in stature.他身高5英尺5英寸。
  • The dress models are tall of stature.时装模特儿的身材都较高。
12 pebbles e4aa8eab2296e27a327354cbb0b2c5d2     
[复数]鹅卵石; 沙砾; 卵石,小圆石( pebble的名词复数 )
参考例句:
  • The pebbles of the drive crunched under his feet. 汽车道上的小石子在他脚底下喀嚓作响。
  • Line the pots with pebbles to ensure good drainage. 在罐子里铺一层鹅卵石,以确保排水良好。
13 smoothly iiUzLG     
adv.平滑地,顺利地,流利地,流畅地
参考例句:
  • The workmen are very cooperative,so the work goes on smoothly.工人们十分合作,所以工作进展顺利。
  • Just change one or two words and the sentence will read smoothly.这句话只要动一两个字就顺了。
14 sitting-room sitting-room     
n.(BrE)客厅,起居室
参考例句:
  • The sitting-room is clean.起居室很清洁。
  • Each villa has a separate sitting-room.每栋别墅都有一间独立的起居室。
15 primroses a7da9b79dd9b14ec42ee0bf83bfe8982     
n.报春花( primrose的名词复数 );淡黄色;追求享乐(招至恶果)
参考例句:
  • Wild flowers such as orchids and primroses are becoming rare. 兰花和报春花这类野花越来越稀少了。 来自《简明英汉词典》
  • The primroses were bollming; spring was in evidence. 迎春花开了,春天显然已经到了。 来自互联网
16 latch g2wxS     
n.门闩,窗闩;弹簧锁
参考例句:
  • She laid her hand on the latch of the door.她把手放在门闩上。
  • The repairman installed an iron latch on the door.修理工在门上安了铁门闩。
17 distressed du1z3y     
痛苦的
参考例句:
  • He was too distressed and confused to answer their questions. 他非常苦恼而困惑,无法回答他们的问题。
  • The news of his death distressed us greatly. 他逝世的消息使我们极为悲痛。
18 linoleum w0cxk     
n.油布,油毯
参考例句:
  • They mislaid the linoleum.他们把油毡放错了地方。
  • Who will lay the linoleum?谁将铺设地板油毡?
19 brass DWbzI     
n.黄铜;黄铜器,铜管乐器
参考例句:
  • Many of the workers play in the factory's brass band.许多工人都在工厂铜管乐队中演奏。
  • Brass is formed by the fusion of copper and zinc.黄铜是通过铜和锌的熔合而成的。
20 pointed Il8zB4     
adj.尖的,直截了当的
参考例句:
  • He gave me a very sharp pointed pencil.他给我一支削得非常尖的铅笔。
  • She wished to show Mrs.John Dashwood by this pointed invitation to her brother.她想通过对达茨伍德夫人提出直截了当的邀请向她的哥哥表示出来。
21 winding Ue7z09     
n.绕,缠,绕组,线圈
参考例句:
  • A winding lane led down towards the river.一条弯弯曲曲的小路通向河边。
  • The winding trail caused us to lose our orientation.迂回曲折的小道使我们迷失了方向。
22 prettily xQAxh     
adv.优美地;可爱地
参考例句:
  • It was prettily engraved with flowers on the back.此件雕刻精美,背面有花饰图案。
  • She pouted prettily at him.她冲他撅着嘴,样子很可爱。
23 crimson AYwzH     
n./adj.深(绯)红色(的);vi.脸变绯红色
参考例句:
  • She went crimson with embarrassment.她羞得满脸通红。
  • Maple leaves have turned crimson.枫叶已经红了。
24 shaft YEtzp     
n.(工具的)柄,杆状物
参考例句:
  • He was wounded by a shaft.他被箭击中受伤。
  • This is the shaft of a steam engine.这是一个蒸汽机主轴。
25 suite MsMwB     
n.一套(家具);套房;随从人员
参考例句:
  • She has a suite of rooms in the hotel.她在那家旅馆有一套房间。
  • That is a nice suite of furniture.那套家具很不错。
26 housekeeper 6q2zxl     
n.管理家务的主妇,女管家
参考例句:
  • A spotless stove told us that his mother is a diligent housekeeper.炉子清洁无瑕就表明他母亲是个勤劳的主妇。
  • She is an economical housekeeper and feeds her family cheaply.她节约持家,一家人吃得很省。
27 joyfully joyfully     
adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地
参考例句:
  • She tripped along joyfully as if treading on air. 她高兴地走着,脚底下轻飘飘的。
  • During these first weeks she slaved joyfully. 在最初的几周里,她干得很高兴。
28 perplexed A3Rz0     
adj.不知所措的
参考例句:
  • The farmer felt the cow,went away,returned,sorely perplexed,always afraid of being cheated.那农民摸摸那头牛,走了又回来,犹豫不决,总怕上当受骗。
  • The child was perplexed by the intricate plot of the story.这孩子被那头绪纷繁的故事弄得迷惑不解。
29 tune NmnwW     
n.调子;和谐,协调;v.调音,调节,调整
参考例句:
  • He'd written a tune,and played it to us on the piano.他写了一段曲子,并在钢琴上弹给我们听。
  • The boy beat out a tune on a tin can.那男孩在易拉罐上敲出一首曲子。
30 dismally cdb50911b7042de000f0b2207b1b04d0     
adv.阴暗地,沉闷地
参考例句:
  • Fei Little Beard assented dismally. 费小胡子哭丧着脸回答。 来自子夜部分
  • He began to howl dismally. 它就凄凉地吠叫起来。 来自辞典例句
31 impulsive M9zxc     
adj.冲动的,刺激的;有推动力的
参考例句:
  • She is impulsive in her actions.她的行为常出于冲动。
  • He was neither an impulsive nor an emotional man,but a very honest and sincere one.他不是个一冲动就鲁莽行事的人,也不多愁善感.他为人十分正直、诚恳。
32 gasped e6af294d8a7477229d6749fa9e8f5b80     
v.喘气( gasp的过去式和过去分词 );喘息;倒抽气;很想要
参考例句:
  • She gasped at the wonderful view. 如此美景使她惊讶得屏住了呼吸。
  • People gasped with admiration at the superb skill of the gymnasts. 体操运动员的高超技艺令人赞叹。 来自《现代汉英综合大词典》
33 inflicting 1c8a133a3354bfc620e3c8d51b3126ae     
把…强加给,使承受,遭受( inflict的现在分词 )
参考例句:
  • He was charged with maliciously inflicting grievous bodily harm. 他被控蓄意严重伤害他人身体。
  • It's impossible to do research without inflicting some pain on animals. 搞研究不让动物遭点罪是不可能的。
34 oblivious Y0Byc     
adj.易忘的,遗忘的,忘却的,健忘的
参考例句:
  • Mother has become quite oblivious after the illness.这次病后,妈妈变得特别健忘。
  • He was quite oblivious of the danger.他完全没有察觉到危险。
35 soothingly soothingly     
adv.抚慰地,安慰地;镇痛地
参考例句:
  • The mother talked soothingly to her child. 母亲对自己的孩子安慰地说。 来自《简明英汉词典》
  • He continued to talk quietly and soothingly to the girl until her frightened grip on his arm was relaxed. 他继续柔声安慰那姑娘,她那因恐惧而紧抓住他的手终于放松了。 来自《简明英汉词典》
36 moss X6QzA     
n.苔,藓,地衣
参考例句:
  • Moss grows on a rock.苔藓生在石头上。
  • He was found asleep on a pillow of leaves and moss.有人看见他枕着树叶和苔藓睡着了。
37 honourable honourable     
adj.可敬的;荣誉的,光荣的
参考例句:
  • I don't think I am worthy of such an honourable title.这样的光荣称号,我可担当不起。
  • I hope to find an honourable way of settling difficulties.我希望设法找到一个体面的办法以摆脱困境。
38 horrid arozZj     
adj.可怕的;令人惊恐的;恐怖的;极讨厌的
参考例句:
  • I'm not going to the horrid dinner party.我不打算去参加这次讨厌的宴会。
  • The medicine is horrid and she couldn't get it down.这种药很难吃,她咽不下去。
39 liking mpXzQ5     
n.爱好;嗜好;喜欢
参考例句:
  • The word palate also means taste or liking.Palate这个词也有“口味”或“嗜好”的意思。
  • I must admit I have no liking for exaggeration.我必须承认我不喜欢夸大其词。
40 scones 851500ddb2eb42d0ca038d69fbf83f7e     
n.烤饼,烤小圆面包( scone的名词复数 )
参考例句:
  • scones and jam with clotted cream 夹有凝脂奶油和果酱的烤饼
  • She makes scones and cakes for the delectation of visitors. 她烘制了烤饼和蛋糕供客人享用。 来自辞典例句
41 Oxford Wmmz0a     
n.牛津(英国城市)
参考例句:
  • At present he has become a Professor of Chemistry at Oxford.他现在已是牛津大学的化学教授了。
  • This is where the road to Oxford joins the road to London.这是去牛津的路与去伦敦的路的汇合处。
42 ushered d337b3442ea0cc4312a5950ae8911282     
v.引,领,陪同( usher的过去式和过去分词 )
参考例句:
  • The secretary ushered me into his office. 秘书把我领进他的办公室。
  • A round of parties ushered in the New Year. 一系列的晚会迎来了新年。 来自《简明英汉词典》
43 embroidery Wjkz7     
n.绣花,刺绣;绣制品
参考例句:
  • This exquisite embroidery won people's great admiration.这件精美的绣品,使人惊叹不已。
  • This is Jane's first attempt at embroidery.这是简第一次试着绣花。
44 beheld beheld     
v.看,注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 );瞧;看呀;(叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现)哎哟
参考例句:
  • His eyes had never beheld such opulence. 他从未见过这样的财富。 来自《简明英汉词典》
  • The soul beheld its features in the mirror of the passing moment. 灵魂在逝去的瞬间的镜子中看到了自己的模样。 来自英汉文学 - 红字
45 graceful deHza     
adj.优美的,优雅的;得体的
参考例句:
  • His movements on the parallel bars were very graceful.他的双杠动作可帅了!
  • The ballet dancer is so graceful.芭蕾舞演员的姿态是如此的优美。
46 perfectly 8Mzxb     
adv.完美地,无可非议地,彻底地
参考例句:
  • The witnesses were each perfectly certain of what they said.证人们个个对自己所说的话十分肯定。
  • Everything that we're doing is all perfectly above board.我们做的每件事情都是光明正大的。
47 largo H90zb     
n.广板乐章;adj.缓慢的,宽广的;adv.缓慢地,宽广地
参考例句:
  • The tempo marking in most cases is andante,adagio,or largo.大多数第一乐章的速度标记是行板、柔板或广板。
  • The second movement is a largo.第二乐章是广板乐章。
48 auld Fuxzt     
adj.老的,旧的
参考例句:
  • Should auld acquaintance be forgot,and never brought to mind?怎能忘记旧日朋友,心中能不怀念?
  • The party ended up with the singing of Auld Lang Sync.宴会以《友谊地久天长》的歌声而告终。
49 kens 2c41c9333bb2ec1e920f34a36b1e6267     
vt.知道(ken的第三人称单数形式)
参考例句:
  • Dominie Deasy kens them a'. 迪希先生全都认得。 来自互联网
50 fixed JsKzzj     
adj.固定的,不变的,准备好的;(计算机)固定的
参考例句:
  • Have you two fixed on a date for the wedding yet?你们俩选定婚期了吗?
  • Once the aim is fixed,we should not change it arbitrarily.目标一旦确定,我们就不应该随意改变。
51 superfluous EU6zf     
adj.过多的,过剩的,多余的
参考例句:
  • She fined away superfluous matter in the design. 她删去了这图案中多余的东西。
  • That request seemed superfluous when I wrote it.我这样写的时候觉得这个请求似乎是多此一举。
52 spoke XryyC     
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:
  • They sourced the spoke nuts from our company.他们的轮辐螺帽是从我们公司获得的。
  • The spokes of a wheel are the bars that connect the outer ring to the centre.辐条是轮子上连接外圈与中心的条棒。
53 anonymously czgzOU     
ad.用匿名的方式
参考例句:
  • The manuscripts were submitted anonymously. 原稿是匿名送交的。
  • Methods A self-administered questionnaire was used to survey 536 teachers anonymously. 方法采用自编“中小学教师职业压力问卷”对536名中小学教师进行无记名调查。
54 pony Au5yJ     
adj.小型的;n.小马
参考例句:
  • His father gave him a pony as a Christmas present.他父亲给了他一匹小马驹作为圣诞礼物。
  • They made him pony up the money he owed.他们逼他还债。
55 babble 9osyJ     
v.含糊不清地说,胡言乱语地说,儿语
参考例句:
  • No one could understand the little baby's babble. 没人能听懂这个小婴孩的话。
  • The babble of voices in the next compartment annoyed all of us.隔壁的车厢隔间里不间歇的嘈杂谈话声让我们都很气恼。
56 demurred demurred     
v.表示异议,反对( demur的过去式和过去分词 )
参考例句:
  • At first she demurred, but then finally agreed. 她开始表示反对,但最终还是同意了。
  • They demurred at working on Sundays. 他们反对星期日工作。 来自《现代英汉综合大词典》
57 cavalcade NUNyv     
n.车队等的行列
参考例句:
  • A cavalcade processed through town.马车队列队从城里经过。
  • The cavalcade drew together in silence.马队在静默中靠拢在一起。
58 marvel b2xyG     
vi.(at)惊叹vt.感到惊异;n.令人惊异的事
参考例句:
  • The robot is a marvel of modern engineering.机器人是现代工程技术的奇迹。
  • The operation was a marvel of medical skill.这次手术是医术上的一个奇迹。


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