“You devil,” she used to say to him, playfully. “I know you. I can see you looking around. That’s a nice stenographer10 you have in the office. I suppose it’s her.”
“Don’t be silly, Aileen,” he would reply. “Don’t be coarse. You know I wouldn’t take up with a stenographer. An office isn’t the place for that sort of thing.”
“Oh, isn’t it? Don’t silly me. I know you. Any old place is good enough for you.”
He laughed, and so did she. She could not help it. She loved him so. There was no particular bitterness in her assaults. She loved him, and very often he would take her in his arms, kiss her tenderly, and coo: “Are you my fine big baby? Are you my red-headed doll? Do you really love me so much? Kiss me, then.” Frankly11, pagan passion in these two ran high. So long as they were not alienated12 by extraneous13 things he could never hope for more delicious human contact. There was no reaction either, to speak of, no gloomy disgust. She was physically14 acceptable to him. He could always talk to her in a genial15, teasing way, even tender, for she did not offend his intellectuality with prudish16 or conventional notions. Loving and foolish as she was in some ways, she would stand blunt reproof17 or correction. She could suggest in a nebulous, blundering way things that would be good for them to do. Most of all at present their thoughts centered upon Chicago society, the new house, which by now had been contracted for, and what it would do to facilitate their introduction and standing18. Never did a woman’s life look more rosy19, Aileen thought. It was almost too good to be true. Her Frank was so handsome, so loving, so generous. There was not a small idea about him. What if he did stray from her at times? He remained faithful to her spiritually, and she knew as yet of no single instance in which he had failed her. She little knew, as much as she knew, how blandly20 he could lie and protest in these matters. But he was fond of her just the same, and he really had not strayed to any extent.
By now also, Cowperwood had invested about one hundred thousand dollars in his gas-company speculations21, and he was jubilant over his prospects22; the franchises23 were good for twenty years. By that time he would be nearly sixty, and he would probably have bought, combined with, or sold out to the older companies at a great profit. The future of Chicago was all in his favor. He decided24 to invest as much as thirty thousand dollars in pictures, if he could find the right ones, and to have Aileen’s portrait painted while she was still so beautiful. This matter of art was again beginning to interest him immensely. Addison had four or five good pictures—a Rousseau, a Greuze, a Wouverman, and one Lawrence—picked up Heaven knows where. A hotel-man by the name of Collard, a dry-goods and real-estate merchant, was said to have a very striking collection. Addison had told him of one Davis Trask, a hardware prince, who was now collecting. There were many homes, he knew where art was beginning to be assembled. He must begin, too.
Cowperwood, once the franchises had been secured, had installed Sippens in his own office, giving him charge for the time being. Small rented offices and clerks were maintained in the region where practical plant-building was going on. All sorts of suits to enjoin25, annul26, and restrain had been begun by the various old companies, but McKibben, Stimson, and old General Van Sickle27 were fighting these with Trojan vigor28 and complacency. It was a pleasant scene. Still no one knew very much of Cowperwood’s entrance into Chicago as yet. He was a very minor29 figure. His name had not even appeared in connection with this work. Other men were being celebrated30 daily, a little to his envy. When would he begin to shine? Soon, now, surely. So off they went in June, comfortable, rich, gay, in the best of health and spirits, intent upon enjoying to the full their first holiday abroad.
It was a wonderful trip. Addison was good enough to telegraph flowers to New York for Mrs. Cowperwood to be delivered on shipboard. McKibben sent books of travel. Cowperwood, uncertain whether anybody would send flowers, ordered them himself—two amazing baskets, which with Addison’s made three—and these, with attached cards, awaited them in the lobby of the main deck. Several at the captain’s table took pains to seek out the Cowperwoods. They were invited to join several card-parties and to attend informal concerts. It was a rough passage, however, and Aileen was sick. It was hard to make herself look just nice enough, and so she kept to her room. She was very haughty31, distant to all but a few, and to these careful of her conversation. She felt herself coming to be a very important person.
Before leaving she had almost exhausted32 the resources of the Donovan establishment in Chicago. Lingerie, boudoir costumes, walking-costumes, riding-costumes, evening-costumes she possessed33 in plenty. She had a jewel-bag hidden away about her person containing all of thirty thousand dollars’ worth of jewels. Her shoes, stockings, hats, and accessories in general were innumerable. Because of all this Cowperwood was rather proud of her. She had such a capacity for life. His first wife had been pale and rather anemic, while Aileen was fairly bursting with sheer physical vitality34. She hummed and jested and primped and posed. There are some souls that just are, without previous revision or introspection. The earth with all its long past was a mere35 suggestion to Aileen, dimly visualized36 if at all. She may have heard that there were once dinosaurs37 and flying reptiles38, but if so it made no deep impression on her. Somebody had said, or was saying, that we were descended39 from monkeys, which was quite absurd, though it might be true enough. On the sea the thrashing hills of green water suggested a kind of immensity and terror, but not the immensity of the poet’s heart. The ship was safe, the captain at table in brass40 buttons and blue uniform, eager to be nice to her—told her so. Her faith really, was in the captain. And there with her, always, was Cowperwood, looking at this whole, moving spectacle of life with a suspicious, not apprehensive41, but wary42 eye, and saying nothing about it.
In London letters given them by Addison brought several invitations to the opera, to dinner, to Goodwood for a weekend, and so on. Carriages, tallyhoes, cabs for riding were invoked43. A week-end invitation to a houseboat on the Thames was secured. Their English hosts, looking on all this as a financial adventure, good financial wisdom, were courteous44 and civil, nothing more. Aileen was intensely curious. She noted45 servants, manners, forms. Immediately she began to think that America was not good enough, perhaps; it wanted so many things.
“Now, Aileen, you and I have to live in Chicago for years and years,” commented Cowperwood. “Don’t get wild. These people don’t care for Americans, can’t you see that? They wouldn’t accept us if we were over here—not yet, anyhow. We’re merely passing strangers, being courteously46 entertained.” Cowperwood saw it all.
Aileen was being spoiled in a way, but there was no help. She dressed and dressed. The Englishmen used to look at her in Hyde Park, where she rode and drove; at Claridges’ where they stayed; in Bond Street, where she shopped. The Englishwomen, the majority of them remote, ultra-conservative, simple in their tastes, lifted their eyes. Cowperwood sensed the situation, but said nothing. He loved Aileen, and she was satisfactory to him, at least for the present, anyhow, beautiful. If he could adjust her station in Chicago, that would be sufficient for a beginning. After three weeks of very active life, during which Aileen patronized the ancient and honorable glories of England, they went on to Paris.
Here she was quickened to a child-like enthusiasm. “You know,” she said to Cowperwood, quite solemnly, the second morning, “the English don’t know how to dress. I thought they did, but the smartest of them copy the French. Take those men we saw last night in the Cafe d’Anglais. There wasn’t an Englishman I saw that compared with them.”
“My dear, your tastes are exotic,” replied Cowperwood, who was watching her with pleased interest while he adjusted his tie. “The French smart crowd are almost too smart, dandified. I think some of those young fellows had on corsets.”
“What of it?” replied Aileen. “I like it. If you’re going to be smart, why not be very smart?”
“I know that’s your theory, my dear,” he said, “but it can be overdone47. There is such a thing as going too far. You have to compromise even if you don’t look as well as you might. You can’t be too very conspicuously48 different from your neighbors, even in the right direction.”
“You know,” she said, stopping and looking at him, “I believe you’re going to get very conservative some day—like my brothers.”
She came over and touched his tie and smoothed his hair.
“Well, one of us ought to be, for the good of the family,” he commented, half smiling.
“I’m not so sure, though, that it will be you, either.”
“It’s a charming day. See how nice those white-marble statues look. Shall we go to the Cluny or Versailles or Fontainbleau? To-night we ought to see Bernhardt at the Francaise.”
Aileen was so gay. It was so splendid to be traveling with her true husband at last.
It was on this trip that Cowperwood’s taste for art and life and his determination to possess them revived to the fullest. He made the acquaintance in London, Paris, and Brussels of the important art dealers49. His conception of great masters and the older schools of art shaped themselves. By one of the dealers in London, who at once recognized in him a possible future patron, he was invited with Aileen to view certain private collections, and here and there was an artist, such as Lord Leighton, Dante Gabriel Rossetti, or Whistler, to whom he was introduced casually50, an interested stranger. These men only saw a strong, polite, remote, conservative man. He realized the emotional, egotistic, and artistic51 soul. He felt on the instant that there could be little in common between such men and himself in so far as personal contact was concerned, yet there was mutual52 ground on which they could meet. He could not be a slavish admirer of anything, only a princely patron. So he walked and saw, wondering how soon his dreams of grandeur53 were to be realized.
In London he bought a portrait by Raeburn; in Paris a plowing54 scene by Millet55, a small Jan Steen, a battle piece by Meissonier, and a romantic courtyard scene by Isabey. Thus began the revival56 of his former interest in art; the nucleus57 of that future collection which was to mean so much to him in later years.
On their return, the building of the new Chicago mansion58 created the next interesting diversion in the lives of Aileen and Cowperwood. Because of some chateaux they saw in France that form, or rather a modification59 of it as suggested by Taylor Lord, was adopted. Mr. Lord figured that it would take all of a year, perhaps a year and a half, to deliver it in perfect order, but time was of no great importance in this connection. In the mean while they could strengthen their social connections and prepare for that interesting day when they should be of the Chicago elite60.
There were, at this time, several elements in Chicago—those who, having grown suddenly rich from dull poverty, could not so easily forget the village church and the village social standards; those who, having inherited wealth, or migrated from the East where wealth was old, understood more of the savoir faire of the game; and those who, being newly born into wealth and seeing the drift toward a smarter American life, were beginning to wish they might shine in it—these last the very young people. The latter were just beginning to dream of dances at Kinsley’s, a stated Kirmess, and summer diversions of the European kind, but they had not arrived as yet. The first class, although by far the dullest and most bovine61, was still the most powerful because they were the richest, money as yet providing the highest standard. The functions which these people provided were stupid to the verge62 of distraction63; really they were only the week-day receptions and Sunday-afternoon calls of Squeedunk and Hohokus raised to the Nth power. The purpose of the whole matter was to see and be seen. Novelty in either thought or action was decidedly eschewed64. It was, as a matter of fact, customariness of thought and action and the quintessence of convention that was desired. The idea of introducing a “play actress,” for instance, as was done occasionally in the East or in London—never; even a singer or an artist was eyed askance. One could easily go too far! But if a European prince should have strayed to Chicago (which he never did) or if an Eastern social magnate chanced to stay over a train or two, then the topmost circle of local wealth was prepared to strain itself to the breaking-point. Cowperwood had sensed all this on his arrival, but he fancied that if he became rich and powerful enough he and Aileen, with their fine house to help them, might well be the leaven65 which would lighten the whole lump. Unfortunately, Aileen was too obviously on the qui vive for those opportunities which might lead to social recognition and equality, if not supremacy66. Like the savage67, unorganized for protection and at the mercy of the horrific caprice of nature, she was almost tremulous at times with thoughts of possible failure. Almost at once she had recognized herself as unsuited temperamentally for association with certain types of society women. The wife of Anson Merrill, the great dry-goods prince, whom she saw in one of the down-town stores one day, impressed her as much too cold and remote. Mrs. Merrill was a woman of superior mood and education who found herself, in her own estimation, hard put to it for suitable companionship in Chicago. She was Eastern-bred-Boston—and familiar in an offhand68 way with the superior world of London, which she had visited several times. Chicago at its best was to her a sordid69 commercial mess. She preferred New York or Washington, but she had to live here. Thus she patronized nearly all of those with whom she condescended70 to associate, using an upward tilt71 of the head, a tired droop72 of the eyelids73, and a fine upward arching of the brows to indicate how trite74 it all was.
It was a Mrs. Henry Huddlestone who had pointed75 out Mrs. Merrill to Aileen. Mrs. Huddlestone was the wife of a soap manufacturer living very close to the Cowperwoods’ temporary home, and she and her husband were on the outer fringe of society. She had heard that the Cowperwoods were people of wealth, that they were friendly with the Addisons, and that they were going to build a two-hundred-thousand-dollar mansion. (The value of houses always grows in the telling.) That was enough. She had called, being three doors away, to leave her card; and Aileen, willing to curry76 favor here and there, had responded. Mrs. Huddlestone was a little woman, not very attractive in appearance, clever in a social way, and eminently77 practical.
“Speaking of Mrs. Merrill,” commented Mrs. Huddlestone, on this particular day, “there she is—near the dress-goods counter. She always carries that lorgnette in just that way.”
Aileen turned and examined critically a tall, dark, slender woman of the high world of the West, very remote, disdainful, superior.
“No,” replied Mrs. Huddlestone, defensively. “They live on the North Side, and the different sets don’t mingle79 so much.”
As a matter of fact, it was just the glory of the principal families that they were above this arbitrary division of “sides,” and could pick their associates from all three divisions.
“Oh!” observed Aileen, nonchalantly. She was secretly irritated to think that Mrs. Huddlestone should find it necessary to point out Mrs. Merrill to her as a superior person.
“You know, she darkens her eyebrows80 a little, I think,” suggested Mrs. Huddlestone, studying her enviously81. “Her husband, they say, isn’t the most faithful person in the world. There’s another woman, a Mrs. Gladdens, that lives very close to them that he’s very much interested in.”
“Oh!” said Aileen, cautiously. After her own Philadelphia experience she had decided to be on her guard and not indulge in too much gossip. Arrows of this particular kind could so readily fly in her direction.
“But her set is really much the smartest,” complimented Aileen’s companion.
Thereafter it was Aileen’s ambition to associate with Mrs. Anson Merrill, to be fully4 and freely accepted by her. She did not know, although she might have feared, that that ambition was never to be realized.
But there were others who had called at the first Cowperwood home, or with whom the Cowperwoods managed to form an acquaintance. There were the Sunderland Sledds, Mr. Sledd being general traffic manager of one of the southwestern railways entering the city, and a gentleman of taste and culture and some wealth; his wife an ambitious nobody. There were the Walter Rysam Cottons, Cotton being a wholesale82 coffee-broker, but more especially a local social litterateur; his wife a graduate of Vassar. There were the Norrie Simmses, Simms being secretary and treasurer83 of the Douglas Trust and Savings84 Company, and a power in another group of financial people, a group entirely distinct from that represented by Addison and Rambaud.
Others included the Stanislau Hoecksemas, wealthy furriers; the Duane Kingslands, wholesale flour; the Webster Israelses, packers; the Bradford Candas, jewelers. All these people amounted to something socially. They all had substantial homes and substantial incomes, so that they were worthy85 of consideration. The difference between Aileen and most of the women involved a difference between naturalism and illusion. But this calls for some explanation.
To really know the state of the feminine mind at this time, one would have to go back to that period in the Middle Ages when the Church flourished and the industrious86 poet, half schooled in the facts of life, surrounded women with a mystical halo. Since that day the maiden87 and the matron as well has been schooled to believe that she is of a finer clay than man, that she was born to uplift him, and that her favors are priceless. This rose-tinted mist of romance, having nothing to do with personal morality, has brought about, nevertheless, a holier-than-thou attitude of women toward men, and even of women toward women. Now the Chicago atmosphere in which Aileen found herself was composed in part of this very illusion. The ladies to whom she had been introduced were of this high world of fancy. They conceived themselves to be perfect, even as they were represented in religious art and in fiction. Their husbands must be models, worthy of their high ideals, and other women must have no blemish88 of any kind. Aileen, urgent, elemental, would have laughed at all this if she could have understood. Not understanding, she felt diffident and uncertain of herself in certain presences.
Instance in this connection Mrs. Norrie Simms, who was a satellite of Mrs. Anson Merrill. To be invited to the Anson Merrills’ for tea, dinner, luncheon89, or to be driven down-town by Mrs. Merrill, was paradise to Mrs. Simms. She loved to recite the bon mots of her idol90, to discourse91 upon her astonishing degree of culture, to narrate92 how people refused on occasion to believe that she was the wife of Anson Merrill, even though she herself declared it—those old chestnuts93 of the social world which must have had their origin in Egypt and Chaldea. Mrs. Simms herself was of a nondescript type, not a real personage, clever, good-looking, tasteful, a social climber. The two Simms children (little girls) had been taught all the social graces of the day—to pose, smirk94, genuflect95, and the like, to the immense delight of their elders. The nurse in charge was in uniform, the governess was a much put-upon person. Mrs. Simms had a high manner, eyes for those above her only, a serene96 contempt for the commonplace world in which she had to dwell.
During the first dinner at which she entertained the Cowperwoods Mrs. Simms attempted to dig into Aileen’s Philadelphia history, asking if she knew the Arthur Leighs, the Trevor Drakes, Roberta Willing, or the Martyn Walkers. Mrs. Simms did not know them herself, but she had heard Mrs. Merrill speak of them, and that was enough of a handle whereby to swing them. Aileen, quick on the defense97, ready to lie manfully on her own behalf, assured her that she had known them, as indeed she had—very casually—and before the rumor98 which connected her with Cowperwood had been voiced abroad. This pleased Mrs. Simms.
“I must tell Nellie,” she said, referring thus familiarly to Mrs. Merrill.
Aileen feared that if this sort of thing continued it would soon be all over town that she had been a mistress before she had been a wife, that she had been the unmentioned corespondent in the divorce suit, and that Cowperwood had been in prison. Only his wealth and her beauty could save her; and would they?
One night they had been to dinner at the Duane Kingslands’, and Mrs. Bradford Canda had asked her, in what seemed a very significant way, whether she had ever met her friend Mrs. Schuyler Evans, of Philadelphia. This frightened Aileen.
“Don’t you suppose they must know, some of them, about us?” she asked Cowperwood, on the way home.
“I suppose so,” he replied, thoughtfully. “I’m sure I don’t know. I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you. If you worry about it you’ll suggest it to them. I haven’t made any secret of my term in prison in Philadelphia, and I don’t intend to. It wasn’t a square deal, and they had no right to put me there.”
“I know, dear,” replied Aileen, “it might not make so much difference if they did know. I don’t see why it should. We are not the only ones that have had marriage troubles, I’m sure.
“There’s just one thing about this; either they accept us or they don’t. If they don’t, well and good; we can’t help it. We’ll go on and finish the house, and give them a chance to be decent. If they won’t be, there are other cities. Money will arrange matters in New York—that I know. We can build a real place there, and go in on equal terms if we have money enough—and I will have money enough,” he added, after a moment’s pondering. “Never fear. I’ll make millions here, whether they want me to or not, and after that—well, after that, we’ll see what we’ll see. Don’t worry. I haven’t seen many troubles in this world that money wouldn’t cure.”
His teeth had that even set that they always assumed when he was dangerously in earnest. He took Aileen’s hand, however, and pressed it gently.
“Don’t worry,” he repeated. “Chicago isn’t the only city, and we won’t be the poorest people in America, either, in ten years. Just keep up your courage. It will all come out right. It’s certain to.”
Aileen looked out on the lamp-lit length of Michigan Avenue, down which they were rolling past many silent mansions99. The tops of all the lamps were white, and gleamed through the shadows, receding100 to a thin point. It was dark, but fresh and pleasant. Oh, if only Frank’s money could buy them position and friendship in this interesting world; if it only would! She did not quite realize how much on her own personality, or the lack of it, this struggle depended.
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prospering
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| 成功，兴旺( prosper的现在分词 ) | |
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entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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harmonious
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| adj.和睦的，调和的，和谐的，协调的 | |
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fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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bickering
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| v.争吵( bicker的现在分词 )；口角；（水等）作潺潺声；闪烁 | |
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longing
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fret
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| v.(使)烦恼；(使)焦急；(使)腐蚀，(使)磨损 | |
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flirtation
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| n.调情，调戏，挑逗 | |
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stenographer
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| n.速记员 | |
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frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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alienated
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| adj.感到孤独的，不合群的v.使疏远( alienate的过去式和过去分词 )；使不友好；转让；让渡（财产等） | |
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extraneous
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| adj.体外的；外来的；外部的 | |
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physically
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| adj.物质上，体格上，身体上，按自然规律 | |
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genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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prudish
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| adj.装淑女样子的，装规矩的，过分规矩的；adv.过分拘谨地 | |
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reproof
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standing
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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blandly
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speculations
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| n.投机买卖( speculation的名词复数 )；思考；投机活动；推断 | |
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prospects
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| n.希望，前途(恒为复数) | |
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franchises
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| n.（尤指选举议员的）选举权( franchise的名词复数 )；参政权；获特许权的商业机构（或服务）；（公司授予的）特许经销权v.给…以特许权，出售特许权( franchise的第三人称单数 ) | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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enjoin
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annul
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| v.宣告…无效，取消，废止 | |
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sickle
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vigor
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| n.活力，精力，元气 | |
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minor
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| adj.较小(少)的，较次要的；n.辅修学科；vi.辅修 | |
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celebrated
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haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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possessed
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vitality
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| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
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mere
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visualized
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| 直观的，直视的 | |
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dinosaurs
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| n.恐龙( dinosaur的名词复数 )；守旧落伍的人，过时落后的东西 | |
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reptiles
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| n.爬行动物，爬虫( reptile的名词复数 ) | |
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descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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41
apprehensive
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| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
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wary
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| adj.谨慎的，机警的，小心的 | |
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invoked
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| v.援引( invoke的过去式和过去分词 )；行使（权利等）；祈求救助；恳求 | |
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44
courteous
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| adj.彬彬有礼的，客气的 | |
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45
noted
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| adj.著名的，知名的 | |
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46
courteously
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| adv.有礼貌地，亲切地 | |
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47
overdone
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| v.做得过分( overdo的过去分词 )；太夸张；把…煮得太久；（工作等）过度 | |
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48
conspicuously
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| ad.明显地，惹人注目地 | |
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49
dealers
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| n.商人( dealer的名词复数 )；贩毒者；毒品贩子；发牌者 | |
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casually
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| adv.漠不关心地，无动于衷地，不负责任地 | |
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51
artistic
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| adj.艺术(家)的，美术(家)的；善于艺术创作的 | |
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52
mutual
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| adj.相互的，彼此的；共同的，共有的 | |
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53
grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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54
plowing
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| v.耕( plow的现在分词 )；犁耕；费力穿过 | |
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millet
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| n.小米，谷子 | |
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revival
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| n.复兴，复苏，（精力、活力等的）重振 | |
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57
nucleus
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| n.核，核心，原子核 | |
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58
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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modification
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| n.修改，改进，缓和，减轻 | |
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60
elite
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| n.精英阶层；实力集团；adj.杰出的，卓越的 | |
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bovine
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| adj.牛的；n.牛 | |
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verge
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| n.边，边缘；v.接近，濒临 | |
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distraction
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| n.精神涣散，精神不集中，消遣，娱乐 | |
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eschewed
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| v.（尤指为道德或实际理由而）习惯性避开，回避( eschew的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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65
leaven
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| v.使发酵；n.酵母；影响 | |
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supremacy
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| n.至上；至高权力 | |
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savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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offhand
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| adj.临时，无准备的；随便，马虎的 | |
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sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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condescended
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| 屈尊，俯就( condescend的过去式和过去分词 )； 故意表示和蔼可亲 | |
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71
tilt
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| v.(使)倾侧；(使)倾斜；n.倾侧；倾斜 | |
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droop
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| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
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eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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trite
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| adj.陈腐的 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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76
curry
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| n.咖哩粉，咖哩饭菜；v.用咖哩粉调味，用马栉梳，制革 | |
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eminently
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| adv.突出地；显著地；不寻常地 | |
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curiously
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| adv.有求知欲地；好问地；奇特地 | |
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mingle
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| vt.使混合，使相混；vi.混合起来；相交往 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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81
enviously
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| adv.满怀嫉妒地 | |
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82
wholesale
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| n.批发；adv.以批发方式；vt.批发，成批出售 | |
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treasurer
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| n.司库，财务主管 | |
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84
savings
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| n.存款，储蓄 | |
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85
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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86
industrious
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| adj.勤劳的，刻苦的，奋发的 | |
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maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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88
blemish
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| v.损害；玷污；瑕疵，缺点 | |
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89
luncheon
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| n.午宴，午餐，便宴 | |
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90
idol
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| n.偶像，红人，宠儿 | |
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discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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narrate
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| v.讲，叙述 | |
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93
chestnuts
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| n.栗子( chestnut的名词复数 )；栗色；栗树；栗色马 | |
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94
smirk
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| n.得意地笑；v.傻笑；假笑着说 | |
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95
genuflect
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| v.屈膝，跪拜（之态度） | |
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96
serene
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| adj. 安详的，宁静的，平静的 | |
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97
defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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98
rumor
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| n.谣言，谣传，传说 | |
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99
mansions
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| n.宅第，公馆，大厦( mansion的名词复数 ) | |
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100
receding
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| v.逐渐远离( recede的现在分词 )；向后倾斜；自原处后退或避开别人的注视；尤指问题 | |
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