The baby was christened some six weeks after its birth, by which time Mrs. Carteret was able to be out. Old Mammy Jane, who had been brought up in the church, but who, like some better informed people in all ages, found religion not inconsistent with a strong vein4 of superstition5, felt her fears for the baby's future much relieved when the rector had made the sign of the cross and sprinkled little Dodie with the water from the carved marble font, which had come from England in the reign7 of King Charles the Martyr9, as the ill-fated son of James I. was known to St. Andrew's. Upon this special occasion Mammy Jane had been provided with a seat downstairs among the white people, to her own intense satisfaction, and to the secret envy of a small colored attendance in the gallery, to whom she was ostentatiously pointed10 out by her grandson Jerry, porter at the Morning Chronicle office, who sat among them in the front row.
On the following Monday evening the major gave a christening party in honor of this important event. Owing to Mrs. Carteret's still delicate health, only a small number of intimate friends and family connections were invited to attend. These were the rector of St. Andrew's; old Mrs. Polly Ochiltree, the godmother; old Mr. Delamere, a distant relative and also one of the sponsors; and his grandson, Tom Delamere. The major had also invited Lee Ellis, his young city editor, for whom he had a great liking11 apart from his business value, and who was a frequent visitor at the house. These, with the family itself, which consisted of the major, his wife, and his half-sister, Clara Pemberton, a young woman of about eighteen, made up the eight persons for whom covers were laid.
Ellis was the first to arrive, a tall, loose-limbed young man, with a slightly freckled12 face, hair verging13 on auburn, a firm chin, and honest gray eyes. He had come half an hour early, and was left alone for a few minutes in the parlor14, a spacious15, high-ceilinged room, with large windows, and fitted up in excellent taste, with stately reminiscences of a past generation. The walls were hung with figured paper. The ceiling was whitewashed16, and decorated in the middle with a plaster centre-piece, from which hung a massive chandelier sparkling with prismatic rays from a hundred crystal pendants. There was a handsome mantel, set with terra-cotta tiles, on which fauns and satyrs, nymphs and dryads, disported17 themselves in idyllic18 abandon. The furniture was old, and in keeping with the room.
At seven o'clock a carriage drove up, from which alighted an elderly gentleman, with white hair and mustache, and bowed somewhat with years. Short of breath and painfully weak in the legs, he was assisted from the carriage by a colored man, apparently19 about forty years old, to whom short side-whiskers and spectacles imparted an air of sobriety. This attendant gave his arm respectfully to the old gentleman, who leaned upon it heavily, but with as little appearance of dependence20 as possible. The servant, assuming a similar unconsciousness of the weight resting upon his arm, assisted the old gentleman carefully up the steps.
"I'm all right now, Sandy," whispered the gentleman as soon as his feet were planted firmly on the piazza21. "You may come back for me at nine o'clock."
Having taken his hand from his servant's arm, he advanced to meet a lady who stood in the door awaiting him, a tall, elderly woman, gaunt and angular of frame, with a mottled face, and high cheekbones partially22 covered by bands of hair entirely23 too black and abundant for a person of her age, if one might judge from the lines of her mouth, which are rarely deceptive24 in such matters.
"Perhaps you'd better not send your man away, Mr. Delamere," observed the lady, in a high shrill25 voice, which grated upon the old gentleman's ears. He was slightly hard of hearing, but, like most deaf people, resented being screamed at. "You might need him before nine o'clock. One never knows what may happen after one has had the second stroke. And moreover, our butler has fallen down the back steps—negroes are so careless!—and sprained26 his ankle so that he can't stand. I'd like to have Sandy stay and wait on the table in Peter's place, if you don't mind."
"I thank you, Mrs. Ochiltree, for your solicitude," replied Mr. Delamere, with a shade of annoyance27 in his voice, "but my health is very good just at present, and I do not anticipate any catastrophe28 which will require my servant's presence before I am ready to go home. But I have no doubt, madam," he continued, with a courteous29 inclination30, "that Sandy will be pleased to serve you, if you desire it, to the best of his poor knowledge."
"I shill be honored, ma'am," assented31 Sandy, with a bow even deeper than his master's, "only I'm 'feared I ain't rightly dressed fer ter wait on table. I wuz only goin' ter pra'r-meetin', an' so I didn' put on my bes' clo's. Ef Mis' Ochiltree ain' gwine ter need me fer de nex' fifteen minutes, I kin8 ride back home in de ca'ige an' dress myse'f suitable fer de occasion, suh."
"If you think you'll wait on the table any better," said Mrs. Ochiltree, "you may go along and change your clothes; but hurry back, for it is seven now, and dinner will soon be served."
Sandy retired32 with a bow. While descending33 the steps to the carriage, which had waited for him, he came face to face with a young man just entering the house.
"Am I in time for dinner, Sandy?" asked the newcomer.
"Yas, Mistuh Tom, you're in plenty er time. Dinner won't be ready till I git back, which won' be fer fifteen minutes er so yit."
Throwing away the cigarette which he held between his fingers, the young man crossed the piazza with a light step, and after a preliminary knock, for an answer to which he did not wait, entered the house with the air of one thoroughly34 at home. The lights in the parlor had been lit, and Ellis, who sat talking to Major Carteret when the newcomer entered, covered him with a jealous glance.
Slender and of medium height, with a small head of almost perfect contour, a symmetrical face, dark almost to swarthiness, black eyes, which moved somewhat restlessly, curly hair of raven35 tint36, a slight mustache, small hands and feet, and fashionable attire37, Tom Delamere, the grandson of the old gentleman who had already arrived, was easily the handsomest young man in Wellington. But no discriminating38 observer would have characterized his beauty as manly39. It conveyed no impression of strength, but did possess a certain element, feline40 rather than feminine, which subtly negatived the idea of manliness41.
He gave his hand to the major, nodded curtly42 to Ellis, saluted43 his grandfather respectfully, and inquired for the ladies.
"Olivia is dressing44 for dinner," replied the major; "Mrs. Ochiltree is in the kitchen, struggling with the servants. Clara—Ah, here she comes now!"
Ellis, whose senses were preternaturally acute where Clara was concerned, was already looking toward the hall and was the first to see her. Clad in an evening gown of simple white, to the close-fitting corsage of which she had fastened a bunch of pink roses, she was to Ellis a dazzling apparition45. To him her erect46 and well-moulded form was the embodiment of symmetry, her voice sweet music, her movements the perfection of grace; and it scarcely needed a lover's imagination to read in her fair countenance48 a pure heart and a high spirit,—the truthfulness49 that scorns a lie, the pride which is not haughtiness50. There were suggestive depths of tenderness, too, in the curl of her lip, the droop51 of her long lashes52, the glance of her blue eyes,—depths that Ellis had long since divined, though he had never yet explored them. She gave Ellis a friendly nod as she came in, but for the smile with which she greeted Delamere, Ellis would have given all that he possessed53,—not a great deal, it is true, but what could a man do more?
"You are the last one, Tom," she said reproachfully. "Mr. Ellis has been here half an hour."
Delamere threw a glance at Ellis which was not exactly friendly. Why should this fellow always be on hand to emphasize his own shortcomings?
"The rector is not here," answered Tom triumphantly54. "You see I am not the last."
"The rector," replied Clara, "was called out of town at six o'clock this evening, to visit a dying man, and so cannot be here. You are the last, Tom, and Mr. Ellis was the first."
Ellis was ruefully aware that this comparison in his favor was the only visible advantage that he had gained from his early arrival. He had not seen Miss Pemberton a moment sooner by reason of it. There had been a certain satisfaction in being in the same house with her, but Delamere had arrived in time to share or, more correctly, to monopolize55, the sunshine of her presence.
Delamere gave a plausible56 excuse which won Clara's pardon and another enchanting57 smile, which pierced Ellis like a dagger58. He knew very well that Delamere's excuse was a lie. Ellis himself had been ready as early as six o'clock, but judging this to be too early, had stopped in at the Clarendon Club for half an hour, to look over the magazines. While coming out he had glanced into the card-room, where he had seen his rival deep in a game of cards, from which Delamere had evidently not been able to tear himself until the last moment. He had accounted for his lateness by a story quite inconsistent with these facts.
The two young people walked over to a window on the opposite side of the large room, where they stood talking to one another in low tones. The major had left the room for a moment. Old Mr. Delamere, who was watching his grandson and Clara with an indulgent smile, proceeded to rub salt into Ellis's wounds.
"They make a handsome couple," he observed. "I remember well when her mother, in her youth an ideally beautiful woman, of an excellent family, married Daniel Pemberton, who was not of so good a family, but had made money. The major, who was only a very young man then, disapproved59 of the match; he considered that his mother, although a widow and nearly forty, was marrying beneath her. But he has been a good brother to Clara, and a careful guardian60 of her estate. Ah, young gentleman, you cannot appreciate, except in imagination, what it means, to one standing61 on the brink62 of eternity63, to feel sure that he will live on in his children and his children's children!"
Ellis was appreciating at that moment what it meant, in cold blood, with no effort of the imagination, to see the girl whom he loved absorbed completely in another man. She had looked at him only once since Tom Delamere had entered the room, and then merely to use him as a spur with which to prick64 his favored rival.
"Yes, sir," he returned mechanically, "Miss Clara is a beautiful young lady."
"And Tom is a good boy—a fine boy," returned the old gentleman. "I am very well pleased with Tom, and shall be entirely happy when I see them married."
Ellis could not echo this sentiment. The very thought of this marriage made him miserable65. He had always understood that the engagement was merely tentative, a sort of family understanding, subject to confirmation66 after Delamere should have attained67 his majority, which was still a year off, and when the major should think Clara old enough to marry. Ellis saw Delamere with the eye of a jealous rival, and judged him mercilessly,—whether correctly or not the sequel will show. He did not at all believe that Tom Delamere would make a fit husband for Clara Pemberton; but his opinion would have had no weight,—he could hardly have expressed it without showing his own interest. Moreover, there was no element of the sneak68 in Lee Ellis's make-up. The very fact that he might profit by the other's discomfiture69 left Delamere secure, so far as he could be affected70 by anything that Ellis might say. But Ellis did not shrink from a fair fight, and though in this one the odds71 were heavily against him, yet so long as this engagement remained indefinite, so long, indeed, as the object of his love was still unwed, he would not cease to hope. Such a sacrifice as this marriage clearly belonged in the catalogue of impossibilities. Ellis had not lived long enough to learn that impossibilities are merely things of which we have not learned, or which we do not wish to happen.
Sandy returned at the end of a quarter of an hour, and dinner was announced. Mr. Delamere led the way to the dining-room with Mrs. Ochiltree. Tom followed with Clara. The major went to the head of the stairs and came down with Mrs. Carteret upon his arm, her beauty rendered more delicate by the pallor of her countenance and more complete by the happiness with which it glowed. Ellis went in alone. In the rector's absence it was practically a family party which sat down, with the exception of Ellis, who, as we have seen, would willingly have placed himself in the same category.
The table was tastefully decorated with flowers, which grew about the house in lavish72 profusion73. In warm climates nature adorns74 herself with true feminine vanity.
"What a beautiful table!" exclaimed Tom, before they were seated.
"The decorations are mine," said Clara proudly. "I cut the flowers and arranged them all myself."
"Which accounts for the admirable effect," rejoined Tom with a bow, before Ellis, to whom the same thought had occurred, was able to express himself. He had always counted himself the least envious75 of men, but for this occasion he coveted76 Tom Delamere's readiness.
"The beauty of the flowers," observed old Mr. Delamere, with sententious gallantry, "is reflected upon all around them. It is a handsome company."
Mrs. Ochiltree beamed upon the table with a dry smile.
"I don't perceive any effect that it has upon you or me," she said; "And as for the young people, 'Handsome is as handsome does.' If Tom here, for instance, were as good as he looks"—
"You flatter me, Aunt Polly," Tom broke in hastily, anticipating the crack of the whip; he was familiar with his aunt's conversational77 idiosyncrasies.
"If you are as good as you look," continued the old lady, with a cunning but indulgent smile, "some one has been slandering78 you."
"Thanks, Aunt Polly! Now you don't flatter me."
"There is Mr. Ellis," Mrs. Ochiltree went on, "who is not half so good-looking, but is steady as a clock, I dare say."
"Now, Aunt Polly," interposed Mrs. Carteret, "let the gentlemen alone."
"She doesn't mean half what she says," continued Mrs. Carteret apologetically, "and only talks that way to people whom she likes."
Tom threw Mrs. Carteret a grateful glance. He had been apprehensive79, with the sensitiveness of youth, lest his old great-aunt should make a fool of him before Clara's family. Nor had he relished80 the comparison with Ellis, who was out of place, anyway, in this family party. He had never liked the fellow, who was too much of a plodder81 and a prig to make a suitable associate for a whole-souled, generous-hearted young gentleman. He tolerated him as a visitor at Carteret's and as a member of the Clarendon Club, but that was all.
"Mrs. Ochiltree has a characteristic way of disguising her feelings," observed old Mr. Delamere, with a touch of sarcasm82.
Ellis had merely flushed and felt uncomfortable at the reference to himself. The compliment to his character hardly offset83 the reflection upon his looks. He knew he was not exactly handsome, but it was not pleasant to have the fact emphasized in the presence of the girl he loved; he would like at least fair play, and judgment84 upon the subject left to the young lady.
Mrs. Ochiltree was quietly enjoying herself. In early life she had been accustomed to impale85 fools on epigrams, like flies on pins, to see them wriggle86. But with advancing years she had lost in some measure the faculty87 of nice discrimination,—it was pleasant to see her victims squirm, whether they were fools or friends. Even one's friends, she argued, were not always wise, and were sometimes the better for being told the truth. At her niece's table she felt at liberty to speak her mind, which she invariably did, with a frankness that sometimes bordered on brutality88. She had long ago outgrown89 the period where ambition or passion, or its partners, envy and hatred90, were springs of action in her life, and simply retained a mild enjoyment91 in the exercise of an old habit, with no active malice92 whatever. The ruling passion merely grew stronger as the restraining faculties93 decreased in vigor94.
A diversion was created at this point by the appearance of old Mammy Jane, dressed in a calico frock, with clean white neckerchief and apron95, carrying the wonderful baby in honor of whose naming this feast had been given. Though only six weeks old, the little Theodore had grown rapidly, and Mammy Jane declared was already quite large for his age, and displayed signs of an unusually precocious96 intelligence. He was passed around the table and duly admired. Clara thought his hair was fine. Ellis inquired about his teeth. Tom put his finger in the baby's fist to test his grip. Old Mr. Delamere was unable to decide as yet whether he favored most his father or his mother. The object of these attentions endured them patiently for several minutes, and then protested with a vocal97 vigor which led to his being taken promptly98 back upstairs. Whatever fate might be in store for him, he manifested no sign of weak lungs.
"Sandy," said Mrs. Carteret when the baby had retired, "pass that tray standing upon the side table, so that we may all see the presents."
Mr. Delamere had brought a silver spoon, and Tom a napkin ring. Ellis had sent a silver watch; it was a little premature99, he admitted, but the boy would grow to it, and could use it to play with in the mean time. It had a glass back, so that he might see the wheels go round. Mrs. Ochiltree's present was an old and yellow ivory rattle100, with a handle which the child could bite while teething, and a knob screwed on at the end to prevent the handle from slipping through the baby's hand.
"I saw that in your cedar101 chest, Aunt Polly," said Clara, "when I was a little girl, and you used to pull the chest out from under your bed to get me a dime47."
"You kept the rattle in the right-hand corner of the chest," said Tom, "in the box with the red silk purse, from which you took the gold piece you gave me every Christmas."
A smile shone on Mrs. Ochiltree's severe features at this appreciation102, like a ray of sunlight on a snowbank.
"Aunt Polly's chest is like the widow's cruse," said Mrs. Carteret, "which was never empty."
"Or Fortunatus's purse, which was always full," added old Mr. Delamere, who read the Latin poets, and whose allusions103 were apt to be classical rather than scriptural.
"It will last me while I live," said Mrs. Ochiltree, adding cautiously, "but there'll not be a great deal left. It won't take much to support an old woman for twenty years."
Mr. Delamere's man Sandy had been waiting upon the table with the decorum of a trained butler, and a gravity all his own. He had changed his suit of plain gray for a long blue coat with brass104 buttons, which dated back to the fashion of a former generation, with which he wore a pair of plaid trousers of strikingly modern cut and pattern. With his whiskers, his spectacles, and his solemn air of responsibility, he would have presented, to one unfamiliar105 with the negro type, an amusingly impressive appearance. But there was nothing incongruous about Sandy to this company, except perhaps to Tom Delamere, who possessed a keen eye for contrasts and always regarded Sandy, in that particular rig, as a very comical darkey.
"Is it quite prudent106, Mrs. Ochiltree," suggested the major at a moment when Sandy, having set down the tray, had left the room for a little while, "to mention, in the presence of the servants, that you keep money in the house?"
"I beg your pardon, major," observed old Mr. Delamere, with a touch of stiffness. "The only servant in hearing of the conversation has been my own; and Sandy is as honest as any man in Wellington."
"You mean, sir," replied Carteret, with a smile, "as honest as any negro in Wellington."
"I make no exceptions, major," returned the old gentleman, with emphasis. "I would trust Sandy with my life,—he saved it once at the risk of his own."
"No doubt," mused107 the major, "the negro is capable of a certain doglike fidelity,—I make the comparison in a kindly108 sense,—a certain personal devotion which is admirable in itself, and fits him eminently109 for a servile career. I should imagine, however, that one could more safely trust his life with a negro than his portable property."
"Very clever, major! I read your paper, and know that your feeling is hostile toward the negro, but"—
The major made a gesture of dissent110, but remained courteously111 silent until Mr. Delamere had finished.
"For my part," the old gentleman went on, "I think they have done very well, considering what they started from, and their limited opportunities. There was Adam Miller112, for instance, who left a comfortable estate. His son George carries on the business, and the younger boy, William, is a good doctor and stands well with his profession. His hospital is a good thing, and if my estate were clear, I should like to do something for it."
"You are mistaken, sir, in imagining me hostile to the negro," explained Carteret. "On the contrary, I am friendly to his best interests. I give him employment; I pay taxes for schools to educate him, and for court-houses and jails to keep him in order. I merely object to being governed by an inferior and servile race."
Mrs. Carteret's face wore a tired expression. This question was her husband's hobby, and therefore her own nightmare. Moreover, she had her personal grievance113 against the negro race, and the names mentioned by old Mr. Delamere had brought it vividly114 before her mind. She had no desire to mar6 the harmony of the occasion by the discussion of a distasteful subject.
Mr. Delamere, glancing at his hostess, read something of this thought, and refused the challenge to further argument.
"I do not believe, major," he said, "that Olivia relishes115 the topic. I merely wish to say that Sandy is an exception to any rule which you may formulate116 in derogation of the negro. Sandy is a gentleman in ebony!"
Tom could scarcely preserve his gravity at this characterization of old Sandy, with his ridiculous air of importance, his long blue coat, and his loud plaid trousers. That suit would make a great costume for a masquerade. He would borrow it some time,—there was nothing in the world like it.
"Well, Mr. Delamere," returned the major good-humoredly, "no doubt Sandy is an exceptionally good negro,—he might well be, for he has had the benefit of your example all his life,—and we know that he is a faithful servant. But nevertheless, if I were Mrs. Ochiltree, I should put my money in the bank. Not all negroes are as honest as Sandy, and an elderly lady might not prove a match for a burly black burglar."
"Thank you, major," retorted Mrs. Ochiltree, with spirit, "I'm not yet too old to take care of myself. That cedar chest has been my bank for forty years, and I shall not change my habits at my age."
At this moment Sandy reëntered the room. Carteret made a warning gesture, which Mrs. Ochiltree chose not to notice.
"I've proved a match for two husbands, and am not afraid of any man that walks the earth, black or white, by day or night. I have a revolver, and know how to use it. Whoever attempts to rob me will do so at his peril117."
After dinner Clara played the piano and sang duets with Tom Delamere. At nine o'clock Mr. Delamere's carriage came for him, and he went away accompanied by Sandy. Under cover of the darkness the old gentleman leaned on his servant's arm with frank dependence, and Sandy lifted him into the carriage with every mark of devotion.
Ellis had already excused himself to go to the office and look over the late proofs for the morning paper. Tom remained a few minutes longer than his grandfather, and upon taking his leave went round to the Clarendon Club, where he spent an hour or two in the card-room with a couple of congenial friends. Luck seemed to favor him, and he went home at midnight with a comfortable balance of winnings. He was fond of excitement, and found a great deal of it in cards. To lose was only less exciting than to win. Of late he had developed into a very successful player,—so successful, indeed, that several members of the club generally found excuses to avoid participating in a game where he made one.
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eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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replete
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| adj.饱满的，塞满的；n.贮蜜蚁 | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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vein
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| n.血管，静脉；叶脉，纹理；情绪；vt.使成脉络 | |
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superstition
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| n.迷信，迷信行为 | |
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mar
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| vt.破坏，毁坏，弄糟 | |
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reign
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| n.统治时期，统治，支配，盛行；v.占优势 | |
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kin
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| n.家族，亲属，血缘关系；adj.亲属关系的，同类的 | |
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martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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freckled
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| adj.雀斑；斑点；晒斑；（使）生雀斑v.雀斑，斑点( freckle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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verging
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| 接近，逼近（verge的现在分词形式） | |
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parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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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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disported
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| v.嬉戏，玩乐，自娱( disport的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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idyllic
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apparently
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dependence
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| n.依靠，依赖；信任，信赖；隶属 | |
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piazza
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partially
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entirely
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deceptive
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shrill
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sprained
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annoyance
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catastrophe
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courteous
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inclination
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assented
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retired
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descending
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thoroughly
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raven
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tint
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attire
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| v.穿衣，装扮[同]array；n.衣着；盛装 | |
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38
discriminating
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| a.有辨别能力的 | |
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39
manly
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| adj.有男子气概的；adv.男子般地，果断地 | |
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40
feline
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| adj.猫科的 | |
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41
manliness
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| 刚毅 | |
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42
curtly
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| adv.简短地 | |
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43
saluted
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| v.欢迎，致敬( salute的过去式和过去分词 )；赞扬，赞颂 | |
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44
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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45
apparition
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| n.幽灵，神奇的现象 | |
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46
erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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47
dime
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| n.（指美国、加拿大的钱币）一角 | |
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48
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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49
truthfulness
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| n. 符合实际 | |
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50
haughtiness
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| n.傲慢；傲气 | |
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51
droop
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| v.低垂，下垂；凋萎，萎靡 | |
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52
lashes
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| n.鞭挞( lash的名词复数 )；鞭子；突然猛烈的一击；急速挥动v.鞭打( lash的第三人称单数 )；煽动；紧系；怒斥 | |
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53
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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54
triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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55
monopolize
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| v.垄断，独占，专营 | |
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56
plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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57
enchanting
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| a.讨人喜欢的 | |
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58
dagger
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| n.匕首，短剑，剑号 | |
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59
disapproved
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| v.不赞成( disapprove的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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60
guardian
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| n.监护人；守卫者，保护者 | |
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61
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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62
brink
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| n.(悬崖、河流等的)边缘，边沿 | |
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63
eternity
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| n.不朽，来世；永恒，无穷 | |
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64
prick
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| v.刺伤，刺痛，刺孔；n.刺伤，刺痛 | |
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65
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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66
confirmation
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| n.证实，确认，批准 | |
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67
attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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68
sneak
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| vt.潜行(隐藏,填石缝)；偷偷摸摸做；n.潜行；adj.暗中进行 | |
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69
discomfiture
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| n.崩溃；大败；挫败；困惑 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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71
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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72
lavish
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| adj.无节制的；浪费的；vt.慷慨地给予，挥霍 | |
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73
profusion
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| n.挥霍；丰富 | |
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74
adorns
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| 装饰，佩带( adorn的第三人称单数 ) | |
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75
envious
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| adj.嫉妒的，羡慕的 | |
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76
coveted
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| adj.令人垂涎的；垂涎的，梦寐以求的v.贪求，觊觎(covet的过去分词)；垂涎；贪图 | |
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77
conversational
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| adj.对话的，会话的 | |
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78
slandering
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| [法]口头诽谤行为 | |
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79
apprehensive
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| adj.担心的，恐惧的，善于领会的 | |
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80
relished
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| v.欣赏( relish的过去式和过去分词 )；从…获得乐趣；渴望 | |
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81
plodder
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| n.沉重行走的人，辛勤工作的人 | |
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82
sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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83
offset
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| n.分支，补偿；v.抵消，补偿 | |
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84
judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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85
impale
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| v.用尖物刺某人、某物 | |
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86
wriggle
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| v./n.蠕动，扭动；蜿蜒 | |
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87
faculty
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| n.才能；学院，系；(学院或系的)全体教学人员 | |
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88
brutality
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| n.野蛮的行为，残忍，野蛮 | |
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89
outgrown
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| 长[发展] 得超过（某物）的范围( outgrow的过去分词 )； 长[发展]得不能再要（某物）； 长得比…快； 生长速度超过 | |
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90
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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91
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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92
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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93
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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94
vigor
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| n.活力，精力，元气 | |
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95
apron
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| n.围裙；工作裙 | |
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96
precocious
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| adj.早熟的；较早显出的 | |
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97
vocal
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| adj.直言不讳的；嗓音的；n.[pl.]声乐节目 | |
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98
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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99
premature
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| adj.比预期时间早的；不成熟的，仓促的 | |
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100
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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101
cedar
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| n.雪松，香柏(木) | |
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102
appreciation
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| n.评价；欣赏；感谢；领会，理解；价格上涨 | |
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103
allusions
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| 暗指，间接提到( allusion的名词复数 ) | |
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104
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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105
unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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106
prudent
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| adj.谨慎的，有远见的，精打细算的 | |
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107
mused
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| v.沉思，冥想( muse的过去式和过去分词 )；沉思自语说（某事） | |
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108
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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109
eminently
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| adv.突出地；显著地；不寻常地 | |
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110
dissent
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| n./v.不同意，持异议 | |
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111
courteously
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| adv.有礼貌地，亲切地 | |
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112
miller
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| n.磨坊主 | |
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113
grievance
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| n.怨愤，气恼，委屈 | |
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114
vividly
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| adv.清楚地，鲜明地，生动地 | |
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115
relishes
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| n.滋味( relish的名词复数 )；乐趣；（大量的）享受；快乐v.欣赏( relish的第三人称单数 )；从…获得乐趣；渴望 | |
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116
formulate
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| v.用公式表示；规划；设计；系统地阐述 | |
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117
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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