Aurora1’s aunts, uncles, and cousins were not slow to exclaim upon the change for the worse which a twelvemonth in Paris had made in their young kinswoman. I fear that the Demoiselles Lespard suffered considerably2 in reputation among the circle round Felden Woods from Miss Floyd’s impaired3 good looks. She was out of spirits too, had no appetite, slept badly, was nervous and hysterical4, no longer took any interest in her dogs and horses, and was altogether an altered creature. Mrs. Alexander Floyd declared it was perfectly5 clear that these cruel Frenchwomen had worked poor Aurora to a shadow: the girl was not used to study, she said; she had been accustomed to exercise and open air, and no doubt pined sadly in the close atmosphere of a school-room.
But Aurora’s was one of those impressionable natures which quickly recover from any depressing influence. Early in September Lucy Floyd came to Felden Woods, and found her handsome cousin almost entirely7 recovered from the drudgery8 of the Parisian pension, but still very loath9 to talk much of that seminary. She answered Lucy’s eager questions very curtly10; said that she hated the Demoiselles Lespard and the Rue6 Saint Dominique, and that the very memory of Paris was disagreeable to her. Like most young ladies with black eyes and blue-black hair, Miss Floyd was a good hater; so Lucy forbore to ask for more information upon what was so evidently an unpleasant subject to her cousin. Poor Lucy had been mercilessly well educated; she spoke11 half a dozen languages, knew all about the natural sciences, had read Gibbon, Niebuhr, and Arnold from the title-page to the printer’s name, and looked upon the heiress as a big brilliant dunce; so she quietly set down Aurora’s dislike to Paris to that young lady’s distate for tuition, and thought little more about it. Any other reasons for Miss Floyd’s almost shuddering12 horror of her Parisian associations lay far beyond Lucy’s simple power of penetration13.
The fifteenth of September was Aurora’s birthday, and Archibald Floyd determined14, upon this, the nineteenth anniversary of his daughter’s first appearance on this mortal scene, to give an entertainment, whereat his country neighbors and town acquaintance might alike behold15 and admire the beautiful heiress.
Mrs. Alexander came to Felden Woods to superintend the preparations for this birthday ball. She drove Aurora and Lucy into town to order the supper and the band, and to choose dresses and wreaths for the young ladies. The banker’s heiress was sadly out of place in a milliner’s show-room; but she had that rapid judgment17 as to color, and that perfect taste in form, which bespeak18 the soul of an artist; and while poor mild Lucy was giving endless trouble, and tumbling innumerable boxes of flowers, before she could find any head-dress in harmony with her rosy19 cheeks and golden hair, Aurora, after one brief glance at the bright parterres of painted cambric, pounced20 upon a crown-shaped garland of vivid scarlet21 berries, with drooping22 and tangled23 leaves of dark shining green, that looked as if they had been just plucked from a running streamlet. She watched Lucy’s perplexities with a half compassionate24, half contemptuous smile.
“Look at that poor child, Aunt Lizzie,” she said; “I know that she would like to put pink and yellow against her golden hair. Why, you silly Lucy, don’t you know that yours is the beauty which really does not want adornment26? A few pearls or forget-me-not blossoms, or a crown of water lilies and a cloud of white areophane, would make you look a sylphide; but I dare say you would like to wear amber27 satin and cabbage-roses.”
From the milliner’s they drove to Mr. Gunter’s in Berkeley Square, at which world-renowned establishment Mrs. Alexander commanded those preparations of turkeys preserved in jelly, hams cunningly embalmed28 in rich wines and broths29, and other specimens30 of that sublime31 art of confectionery which hovers32 midway between sleight33 of hand and cookery, and in which the Berkeley Square professor is without a rival. When poor Thomas Babington Macaulay’s New Zealander shall come to ponder over the ruins of St. Paul’s, perhaps he will visit the remains34 of this humbler temple in Berkeley Square, and wonder at the ice-pails and jelly-moulds, and refrigerators and stewpans, the hot plates, long cold and unheeded, and all the mysterious paraphernalia36 of the dead art.
From the West End Mrs. Alexander drove to Charing37 Cross; she had a commission to execute at Dent’s — the purchase of a watch for one of her boys, who was just off to Eton.
Aurora threw herself wearily back in the carriage while her aunt and Lucy stopped at the watchmaker’s. It was to be observed that, although Miss Floyd had recovered much of her old brilliancy and gayety of temper, a certain gloomy shade would sometimes steal over her countenance38 when she was left to herself for a few minutes — a darkly reflective expression, quite foreign to her face. This shadow fell upon her beauty now as she looked out of the open window, moodily39 watching the passers-by. Mrs. Alexander was a long time making her purchase, and Aurora had sat nearly a quarter of an hour blankly staring at the shifting figures in the crowd, when a man hurrying by was attracted by her face at the carriage-window, and started, as if at some great surprise. He passed on, however, and walked rapidly toward the Horse Guards; but, before he turned the corner, came to a dead stop, stood still for two or three minutes scratching the back of his head reflectively with his big bare hand, and then walked slowly back toward Mr. Dent’s emporium. He was a broad-shouldered, bull-necked, sandy-whiskered fellow, wearing a cut-away coat and a gaudy41 neckerchief, and smoking a huge cigar, the rank fumes42 of which struggled with a very powerful odor of rum and water recently imbibed43. This gentleman’s standing44 in society was betrayed by the smooth head of a bull-terrier, whose round eyes peeped out of the pocket of his cut-away coat, and by a Blenheim spaniel carried under his arm. He was the very last person, among all the souls between Cockspur street and the statue of King Charles, who seemed likely to have anything to say to Miss Aurora Floyd; nevertheless, he walked deliberately45 up to the carriage, and, planting his elbows upon the door, nodded to her with friendly familiarity.
“Well,” he said, without inconveniencing himself by the removal of the rank cigar, “how do?”
After which brief salutation he relapsed into silence, and rolled his great brown eyes slowly here and there, in contemplative examination of Miss Floyd and the vehicle in which she sat — even carrying his powers of observation so far as to take particular notice of a plethoric46 morocco bag lying on the back seat, and to inquire casually47 whether there was “anythink wallable in the old party’s redicule.”
But Aurora did not allow him long for this leisurely48 employment; for, looking at him with her eyes flashing forked lightnings of womanly fury, and her face crimson49 with indignation, she asked him, in a sharp, spasmodic tone, whether he had anything to say to her.
He had a great deal to say to her; but as he put his head in at the carriage-window and made his communication, whatever it might be, in a rum and watery50 whisper, it reached no ears but those of Aurora herself. When he had done whispering, he took a greasy51, leather-covered account-book, and a short stump52 of lead pencil, considerably the worse for chewing, from his waistcoat-pocket, and wrote two or three lines upon a leaf, which he tore out and handed to Aurora. “This is the address,” he said; “you won’t forget to send?”
She shook her head, and looked away from him — looked away with an irrepressible gesture of disgust and loathing53.
“You wouldn’t like to buy a spannel dawg,” said the man, holding the sleek54, curly, black and tan animal up to the carriage-window, “or a French poodle what’ll balance a bit of bread on his nose while you count ten? Hey? You should have him a bargain — say fifteen pound the two.”
“No!”
At this moment Mrs. Alexander emerged from the watchmaker’s, just in time to catch a glimpse of the man’s broad shoulders as he moved sulkily away from the carriage.
“Has that person been begging of you, Aurora?” she asked, as they drove off.
“No. I once bought a dog of him, and he recognized me.”
“And wanted you to buy one to-day?”
“Yes.”
Miss Floyd sat gloomily silent during the whole of the homeward drive, looking out of the carriage-window, and not deigning55 to take any notice whatever of her aunt and cousin. I do not know whether it was in submission56 to that palpable superiority of force and vitality57 in Aurora’s nature which seemed to set her above her fellows, or simply in that inherent spirit of toadyism58 common to the best of us; but Mrs. Alexander and her fair-haired daughter always paid mute reverence59 to the banker’s heiress, and were silent when it pleased her, or conversed60 at her royal will. I verily believe that it was Aurora’s eyes rather than Archibald Martin Floyd’s thousands that overawed all her kinsfolk; and that if she had been a street-sweeper dressed in rags and begging for half-pence, people would have feared her and made way for her, and bated their breath when she was angry.
The trees in the long avenue of Felden Woods were hung with sparkling colored lamps, to light the guests who came to Aurora’s birthday festival. The long range of windows on the ground-floor was ablaze61 with light; the crash of the band burst every now and then above the perpetual roll of carriage-wheels, and the shouted repetition of visitors’ names, and pealed62 across the silent woods; through the long vista63 of half a dozen rooms opening one into another, the waters of a fountain, sparkling with a hundred hues64 in the light, glittered amid the dark floral wealth of a conservatory65 filled with exotics. Great clusters of tropical plants were grouped in the spacious66 hall; festoons of flowers hung about the vapory curtains in the arched door-ways. Light and splendor67 were everywhere around; and amid all, and more splendid than all, in the dark grandeur68 of her beauty, Aurora Floyd, crowned with scarlet and robed in white, stood by her father’s side.
Among the guests who arrive latest at Mr. Floyd’s ball are two officers from Windsor, who have driven across the country in a mail phaeton. The elder of these two, and the driver of the vehicle, has been very discontented and disagreeable throughout the journey.
“If I’d had the remotest idea of the distance, Maldon,” he said, “I’d have seen you and your Kentish banker very considerably inconvenienced before I would have consented to victimize my horse for the sake of this snobbish69 party.”
“But it won’t be a snobbish party,” answered the young man, impetuously. “Archibald Floyd is the best fellow in Christendom, and as for his daughter —”
“Oh, of course, a divinity, with fifty thousand pounds for her fortune, all of which will no doubt be very tightly settled upon herself if she is ever allowed to marry a penniless scapegrace like Francis Lewis Maldon, of her Majesty’s 11th Hussars. However, I don’t want to stand in your way, my boy. Go in and win, and my blessing70 be upon your virtuous71 endeavors. I can imagine the young Scotchwoman — red hair (of course you’ll call it auburn), large feet, and freckles72!”
“Aurora Floyd — red hair and freckles!” The young officer laughed aloud at the stupendous joke. “You’ll see her in a quarter of an hour, Bulstrode,” he said.
Talbot Bulstrode, Captain of her Majesty’s 11th Hussars, had consented to drive his brother-officer from Windsor to Beckenham, and to array himself in his uniform, in order to adorn25 therewith the festival at Felden Woods, chiefly because, having at two-and-thirty years of age run through all the wealth of life’s excitements and amusements, and finding himself a penniless spendthrift in this species of coin, though well enough off for mere73 sordid74 riches, he was too tired of himself and the world to care much whither his friends and comrades led him. He was the eldest75 son of a wealthy Cornish baronet, whose ancestor had received his title straight from the hands of Scottish King James, when baronetcies first came into fashion; the same fortunate ancestor being near akin40 to a certain noble, erratic76, unfortunate, and injured gentleman called Walter Raleigh, and by no means too well used by the same Scottish James. Now, of all the pride which ever swelled77 the breasts of mankind, the pride of Cornishmen is perhaps the strongest; and the Bulstrode family was one of the proudest in Cornwall. Talbot was no alien son of this haughty78 house; from his very babyhood he had been the proudest of mankind. This pride had been the saving power that had presided over his prosperous career. Other men might have made a downhill road of that smooth pathway which wealth and grandeur made so pleasant, but not Talbot Bulstrode. The vices79 and follies81 of the common herd82 were perhaps retrievable83, but vice80 or folly84 in a Bulstrode would have left a blot85 upon a hitherto unblemished escutcheon never to be erased87 by time or tears. That pride of birth, which was utterly88 unallied to pride of wealth or station, had a certain noble and chivalrous89 side, and Talbot Bulstrode was beloved by many a parvenu90 whom meaner men would have insulted. In the ordinary affairs of life he was as humble35 as a woman or a child; it was only when Honor was in question that the sleeping dragon of pride which had guarded the golden apples of his youth, purity, probity91, and truth, awoke and bade defiance92 to the enemy. At two-and-thirty he was still a bachelor, not because he had never loved, but because he had never met with a woman whose stainless93 purity of soul fitted her in his eyes to become the mother of a noble race, and to rear sons who should do honor to the name of Bulstrode. He looked for more than ordinary every-day virtue94 in the woman of his choice; he demanded those grand and queenly qualities which are rarest in woman-kind. Fearless truth, a sense of honor keen as his own, loyalty95 of purpose, unselfishness, a soul untainted by the petty baseness of daily life — all these he sought in the being he loved; and at the first warning thrill of emotion caused by a pair of beautiful eyes, he grew critical and captious96 about their owner, and began to look for infinitesimal stains upon the shining robe of her virginity. He would have married a beggar’s daughter if she had reached his almost impossible standard; he would have rejected the descendant of a race of kings if she had fallen one decimal part of an inch below it. Women feared Talbot Bulstrode; manoeuvring mothers shrank abashed97 from the cold light of those watchful98 gray eyes; daughters to marry blushed and trembled, and felt their pretty affectations, their ballroom99 properties, drop away from them under the quiet gaze of the young officer, till, from fearing him, the lovely flutterers grew to shun100 and dislike him, and to leave Bulstrode Castle and the Bulstrode fortune unangled for in the great matrimonial fisheries. So at two-and-thirty Talbot walked serenely101 safe amid the meshes102 and pitfalls103 of Belgravia, secure in the popular belief that Captain Bulstrode, of the 11th Hussars, was not a marrying man. This belief was perhaps strengthened by the fact that the Cornishman was by no means the elegant ignoramus whose sole accomplishment104 consist in parting his hair, waxing his mustaches, and smoking a meerschaum that has been colored by his valet, and who has become the accepted type of the military man in time of peace.
Talbot Bulstrode was fond of scientific pursuits; he neither smoked, drank, nor gambled. He had only been to the Derby once in his life, and on that one occasion had walked quietly away from the stand while the great race was being run, and the white faces were turned toward the fatal corner, and men were sick with terror and anxiety, and frenzied105 with the madness of suspense106. He never hunted, though he rode like Colonel Asheton Smith. He was a perfect swordsman, and one of Mr. Angelo’s pet pupils, a favorite lounger in the gallery of that simple-hearted, honorable-minded gentleman; but he had never handled a billiard-cue in his life, nor had he touched a card since the days of his boyhood, when he took a hand at long whist with his father, and mother, and the parson of the parish, in the south drawing-room at Bulstrode Castle. He had a peculiar107 aversion to all games of chance and skill, contending that it was beneath a gentleman to employ, even for amusement, the implements108 of the sharper’s pitiful trade. His rooms were as neatly109 kept as those of a woman. Cases of mathematical instruments took the place of cigar-boxes; proof impressions of Raphael adorned110 the walls ordinarily covered with French prints, and water-colored sporting sketches111 from Ackermann’s emporium. He was familiar with every turn of expression in Descartes and Condillac, but would have been sorely puzzled to translate the argotic locutions of Monsieur de Kock, père. Those who spoke of him summed him up by saying that he wasn’t a bit like an officer; but there was a certain regiment112 of foot, which he had commanded when the heights of Inkermann were won, whose ranks told another story of Captain Bulstrode. He had made an exchange into the 11th Hussars on his return from the Crimea, whence, among other distinctions, he had brought a stiff leg, which for a time disqualified him from dancing. It was from pure benevolence113, therefore, or from that indifference114 to all things which is easily mistaken for unselfishness, that Talbot Bulstrode had consented to accept an invitation to the ball at Felden Woods.
The banker’s guests were not of that charmed circle familiar to the Captain of Hussars; so Talbot, after a brief introduction to his host, fell back among the crowd assembled in one of the doorways116, and quietly watched the dancers; not unobserved himself, however, for he was just one of those people who will not pass in a crowd. Tall and broad-chested, with a pale, whiskerless face, aquiline117 nose, clear, cold gray eyes, thick mustache, and black hair, worn as closely cropped as if he had lately emerged from Coldbath Fields or Millbank prison, he formed a striking contrast to the yellow-whiskered young ensign who had accompanied him. Even that stiff leg, which in others might have seemed a blemish86, added to the distinction of his appearance, and, coupled with the glittering orders on the breast of his uniform, told of deeds of prowess lately done. He took very little delight in the gay assembly revolving118 before him to one of Charles d’Albert’s waltzes. He had heard the same music before, executed by the same band; the faces, though unfamiliar119 to him, were not new: dark beauties in pink, fair beauties in blue; tall, dashing beauties in silks, and laces, and jewels, and splendor; modestly downcast beauties in white crape and rose-buds. They had all been spread for him, those familiar nets of gauze and areophane, and he had escaped them all; and the name of Bulstrode might drop out of the history of Cornish gentry120 to find no record save upon gravestones, but it would never be tarnished121 by an unworthy race, or dragged through the mire16 of a divorce court by a guilty woman. While he lounged against the pillar of a doorway115, leaning on his cane122, and resting his lame123 leg, and wondering lazily whether there was anything upon earth that repaid a man for the trouble of living, Ensign Maldon approached him with a woman’s gloved hand lying lightly on his arm, and a divinity walking by his side. A divinity! imperiously beautiful in white and scarlet, painfully dazzling to look upon, intoxicatingly brilliant to behold. Captain Bulstrode had served in India, and had once tasted a horrible spirit called bang, which made the men who drank it half-mad; and he could not help fancying that the beauty of this woman was like the strength of that alcoholic125 preparation — barbarous, intoxicating124, dangerous, and maddening.
His brother-officer presented him to this wonderful creature, and he found that her earthly name was Aurora Floyd, and that she was the heiress of Felden Woods.
Talbot Bulstrode recovered himself in a moment. This imperious creature, this Cleopatra in crinoline, had a low forehead, a nose that deviated126 from the line of beauty, and a wide mouth. What was she but another trap set in white muslin, and baited with artificial flowers, like the rest? She was to have fifty thousand pounds for her portion, so she didn’t want a rich husband; but she was a nobody, so of course she wanted position, and had no doubt read up the Raleigh Bulstrodes in the sublime pages of Burke. The clear gray eyes grew cold as ever, therefore, as Talbot bowed to the heiress. Mr. Maldon found his partner a chair close to the pillar against which Captain Bulstrode had taken his stand; and Mrs. Alexander Floyd swooping127 down upon the ensign at this very moment, with the dire128 intent of carrying him off to dance with a lady who executed more of her steps upon the toes of her partner than on the floor of the ball-room, Aurora and Talbot were left to themselves.
Captain Bulstrode glanced downward at the banker’s daughter. His gaze lingered upon the graceful129 head, with its coronal of shining scarlet berries encircling smooth masses of blue-black hair. He expected to see the modest drooping of the eyelids130 peculiar to young ladies with long lashes131, but he was disappointed; for Aurora Floyd was looking straight before her, neither at him, nor at the lights, nor the flowers, nor the dancers, but far away into vacancy132. She was so young, prosperous, admired, and beloved, that it was difficult to account for the dim shadow of trouble that clouded her glorious eyes.
While he was wondering what he should say to her, she lifted her eyes to his face, and asked him the strangest question he had ever heard from girlish lips.
“Do you know if Thunderbolt won the Leger?” she asked.
He was too much confounded to answer for a moment, and she continued rather impatiently, “They must have heard by six o’clock this evening in London; but I have asked half a dozen people here to-night, and no one seems to know anything about it.”
Talbot’s close-cropped hair seemed lifted from his head as he listened to this terrible address. Good heavens! what a horrible woman! The hussar’s vivid imagination pictured the heir of all the Raleigh Bulstrodes receiving his infantine impressions from such a mother. She would teach him to read out of the Racing133 Calendar; she would invent a royal alphabet of the turf, and tell him that “D stands for Derby, old England’s great race,” and “E stands for Epsom, a crack meeting-place,” etc. He told Miss Floyd that he had never been to Doncaster in his life, that he had never read a sporting paper, and that he knew no more of Thunderbolt than of King Cheops.
She looked at him rather contemptuously. “Cheops wasn’t much,” she said; “but he won the Liverpool Autumn Cup in Blink Bonny’s year.”
Talbot Bulstrode shuddered134 afresh; but a feeling of pity mingled135 with his horror. “If I had a sister,” he thought, “I would get her to talk to this miserable136 girl, and bring her to a sense of her iniquity137.”
Aurora said no more to the Captain of Hussars, but relapsed into the old far-away gaze into vacancy, and sat twisting a bracelet138 round and round upon her finely-modelled wrist. It was a diamond bracelet, worth a couple of hundred pounds, which had been given her that day by her father. He would have invested all his fortune in Messrs. Hunt and Roskell’s cunning handiwork if Aurora had sighed for gems139 and gewgaws. Miss Floyd’s glance fell upon the glittering ornament140, and she looked at it long and earnestly, rather as if she were calculating the value of the stones than admiring the taste of the workmanship.
While Talbot was watching her, full of wondering pity and horror, a young man hurried up to the spot where she was seated, and reminded her of an engagement for the quadrille that was forming. She looked at her tablets of ivory, gold, and turquoise141, and with a certain disdainful weariness rose and took his arm. Talbot followed her receding142 form. Taller than most among the throng143, her queenly head was not soon lost sight of.
“A Cleopatra with a snub nose two sizes too small for her face, and a taste for horse-flesh!” said Talbot Bulstrode, ruminating144 upon the departed divinity. “She ought to carry a betting-book instead of those ivory tablets. How distraite she was all the time she sat here! I dare say she has made a book for the Leger, and was calculating how much she stands to lose. What will this poor old banker do with her? put her into a mad-house, or get her elected a member of the jockey club? With her black eyes and fifty thousand pounds, she might lead the sporting world. There has been a female pope, why should there not be a female ‘Napoleon of the Turf?’”
Later, when the rustling145 leaves of the trees in Beckenham Woods were shivering in that cold gray hour which precedes the advent146 of the dawn. Talbot Bulstrode drove his friend away from the banker’s lighted mansion147. He talked of Aurora Floyd during the whole of that long cross-country drive. He was merciless to her follies; he ridiculed148, he abused, he sneered149 at and condemned150 her questionable151 taste. He bade Francis Louis Maldon marry her at his peril152, and wished him joy of such a wife. He declared that if he had such a sister he would shoot her, unless she reformed and burnt her betting-book. He worked himself up into a savage153 humor about the young lady’s delinquencies, and talked of her as if she had done him an unpardonable injury by entertaining a taste for the turf; till at last the poor meek154 young ensign plucked up a spirit, and told his superior officer that Aurora Floyd was a very jolly girl, and a good girl, and a perfect lady, and that if she did want to know who won the Leger, it was no business of Captain Bulstrode’s, and that he, Bulstrode, needn’t make such a howling about it.
While the two men are getting to high words about her, Aurora is seated in her dressing-room, listening to Lucy Floyd’s babble155 about the ball.
“There was never such a delightful156 party,” that young lady said; “and did Aurora see so-and-so, and so-and-so, and so-and-so? and above all, did she observe Captain Bulstrode, who had served all through the Crimean war, and who walked lame, and was the son of Sir John Walter Raleigh Bulstrode, of Bulstrode Castle, near Camelford?”
Aurora shook her head with a weary gesture. No, she hadn’t noticed any of these people. Poor Lucy’s childish talk was stopped in a moment.
“You are tired, Aurora dear,” she said; “how cruel I am to worry you!”
Aurora threw her arms about her cousin’s neck, and hid her face upon Lucy’s white shoulder.
“I am tired,” she said, “very, very tired.”
She spoke with such an utterly despairing weariness in her tone, that her gentle cousin was alarmed by her words.
“You are not unhappy, dear Aurora?” she asked, anxiously.
“No, no, only tired. There, go, Lucy. Good-night, good-night.”
She gently pushed her cousin from the room, rejected the services of her maid, and dismissed her also. Then, tired as she was, she removed the candle from the dressing-table to a desk on the other side of the room, and, seating herself at this desk, unlocked it and took from one of its inmost recesses157 the soiled pencil scrawl158 which had been given her a week before by the man who tried to sell her a dog in Cockspur street.
The diamond bracelet, Archibald Floyd’s birthday gift to his daughter, lay in its nest of satin and velvet159 upon Aurora’s dressing-table. She took the morocco case in her hand, looked for a few moments at the jewel, and then shut the lid of the little casket with a sharp metallic160 snap.
“The tears were in my father’s eyes when he clapsed the bracelet on my arm,” she said, as she reseated herself at the desk. “If he could see me now!”
She wrapped the case in a sheet of foolscap, secured the parcel in several places with red wax and a plain seal, and directed it thus:
“J. C.,
Care of Mr. Joseph Green,
Bell Inn,
Doncaster.”
Early the next morning Miss Floyd drove her aunt and cousin into Croydon, and, leaving them at a Berlin wool-shop, went alone to the post-office, where she registered and posted this valuable parcel.
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aurora
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| n.极光 | |
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considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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impaired
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| adj.受损的；出毛病的；有（身体或智力）缺陷的v.损害，削弱( impair的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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hysterical
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| adj.情绪异常激动的，歇斯底里般的 | |
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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rue
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| n.懊悔，芸香，后悔；v.后悔，悲伤，懊悔 | |
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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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drudgery
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| n.苦工，重活，单调乏味的工作 | |
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loath
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| adj.不愿意的；勉强的 | |
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curtly
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spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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shuddering
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| v.战栗( shudder的现在分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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penetration
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| n.穿透，穿人，渗透 | |
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determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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mire
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| n.泥沼，泥泞；v.使...陷于泥泞，使...陷入困境 | |
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judgment
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| n.审判；判断力，识别力，看法，意见 | |
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bespeak
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rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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pounced
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| v.突然袭击( pounce的过去式和过去分词 )；猛扑；一眼看出；抓住机会（进行抨击） | |
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21
scarlet
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| n.深红色，绯红色，红衣；adj.绯红色的 | |
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22
drooping
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| adj. 下垂的，无力的 动词droop的现在分词 | |
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23
tangled
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| adj. 纠缠的，紊乱的 动词tangle的过去式和过去分词 | |
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24
compassionate
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| adj.有同情心的，表示同情的 | |
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25
adorn
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| vt.使美化，装饰 | |
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26
adornment
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| n.装饰；装饰品 | |
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27
amber
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| n.琥珀；琥珀色；adj.琥珀制的 | |
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embalmed
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| adj.用防腐药物保存（尸体）的v.保存（尸体）不腐( embalm的过去式和过去分词 )；使不被遗忘；使充满香气 | |
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29
broths
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| n.肉汤( broth的名词复数 )；厨师多了烧坏汤；人多手杂反坏事；人多添乱 | |
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30
specimens
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| n.样品( specimen的名词复数 )；范例；（化验的）抽样；某种类型的人 | |
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31
sublime
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| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
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32
hovers
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| 鸟( hover的第三人称单数 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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33
sleight
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| n.技巧，花招 | |
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34
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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35
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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36
paraphernalia
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| n.装备；随身用品 | |
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37
charing
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| n.炭化v.把…烧成炭，把…烧焦( char的现在分词 )；烧成炭，烧焦；做杂役女佣 | |
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38
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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39
moodily
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| adv.喜怒无常地；情绪多变地；心情不稳地；易生气地 | |
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40
akin
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| adj.同族的，类似的 | |
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41
gaudy
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| adj.华而不实的；俗丽的 | |
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42
fumes
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| n.(强烈而刺激的)气味，气体 | |
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43
imbibed
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| v.吸收( imbibe的过去式和过去分词 )；喝；吸取；吸气 | |
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44
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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45
deliberately
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| adv.审慎地；蓄意地；故意地 | |
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46
plethoric
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| adj.过多的，多血症的 | |
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47
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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48
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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49
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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50
watery
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| adj.有水的，水汪汪的；湿的，湿润的 | |
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51
greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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52
stump
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| n.残株，烟蒂，讲演台；v.砍断，蹒跚而走 | |
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53
loathing
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| n.厌恶，憎恨v.憎恨，厌恶( loathe的现在分词)；极不喜欢 | |
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54
sleek
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| adj.光滑的，井然有序的；v.使光滑，梳拢 | |
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55
deigning
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| v.屈尊，俯就( deign的现在分词 ) | |
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56
submission
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| n.服从，投降；温顺，谦虚；提出 | |
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57
vitality
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| n.活力，生命力，效力 | |
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58
toadyism
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| n.谄媚，奉承 | |
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59
reverence
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| n.敬畏，尊敬，尊严；Reverence:对某些基督教神职人员的尊称；v.尊敬，敬畏，崇敬 | |
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60
conversed
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| v.交谈，谈话( converse的过去式 ) | |
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61
ablaze
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| adj.着火的，燃烧的；闪耀的，灯火辉煌的 | |
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62
pealed
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| v.（使）（钟等）鸣响，（雷等）发出隆隆声( peal的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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63
vista
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| n.远景，深景，展望，回想 | |
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64
hues
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| 色彩( hue的名词复数 )； 色调； 信仰； 观点 | |
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65
conservatory
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| n.温室，音乐学院；adj.保存性的，有保存力的 | |
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66
spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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67
splendor
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| n.光彩；壮丽，华丽；显赫，辉煌 | |
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68
grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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69
snobbish
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| adj.势利的，谄上欺下的 | |
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70
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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71
virtuous
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| adj.有品德的，善良的，贞洁的，有效力的 | |
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72
freckles
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| n.雀斑，斑点( freckle的名词复数 ) | |
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73
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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74
sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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75
eldest
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| adj.最年长的，最年老的 | |
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76
erratic
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| adj.古怪的，反复无常的，不稳定的 | |
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77
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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78
haughty
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| adj.傲慢的，高傲的 | |
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79
vices
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| 缺陷( vice的名词复数 )； 恶习； 不道德行为； 台钳 | |
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80
vice
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| n.坏事；恶习；[pl.]台钳，老虎钳；adj.副的 | |
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81
follies
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| 罪恶，时事讽刺剧； 愚蠢，蠢笨，愚蠢的行为、思想或做法( folly的名词复数 ) | |
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82
herd
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| n.兽群，牧群；vt.使集中，把…赶在一起 | |
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83
retrievable
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| adj.可取回的，可恢复的，可修补的 | |
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84
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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85
blot
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| vt.弄脏（用吸墨纸）吸干；n.污点，污渍 | |
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86
blemish
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| v.损害；玷污；瑕疵，缺点 | |
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87
erased
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| v.擦掉( erase的过去式和过去分词 )；抹去；清除 | |
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88
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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89
chivalrous
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| adj.武士精神的；对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
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90
parvenu
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| n.暴发户，新贵 | |
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91
probity
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| n.刚直；廉洁，正直 | |
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92
defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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93
stainless
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| adj.无瑕疵的，不锈的 | |
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94
virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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95
loyalty
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| n.忠诚，忠心 | |
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96
captious
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| adj.难讨好的，吹毛求疵的 | |
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97
abashed
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| adj.窘迫的，尴尬的v.使羞愧，使局促，使窘迫( abash的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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98
watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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99
ballroom
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| n.舞厅 | |
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100
shun
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| vt.避开，回避，避免 | |
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101
serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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102
meshes
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| 网孔( mesh的名词复数 )； 网状物； 陷阱； 困境 | |
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103
pitfalls
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| （捕猎野兽用的）陷阱( pitfall的名词复数 )； 意想不到的困难，易犯的错误 | |
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104
accomplishment
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| n.完成，成就，（pl.）造诣，技能 | |
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105
frenzied
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| a.激怒的；疯狂的 | |
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106
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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107
peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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108
implements
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| n.工具( implement的名词复数 )；家具；手段；[法律]履行（契约等）v.实现( implement的第三人称单数 )；执行；贯彻；使生效 | |
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109
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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110
adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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111
sketches
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| n.草图( sketch的名词复数 )；素描；速写；梗概 | |
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112
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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113
benevolence
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| n.慈悲，捐助 | |
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114
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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115
doorway
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| n.门口，(喻)入门；门路，途径 | |
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116
doorways
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| n.门口，门道( doorway的名词复数 ) | |
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117
aquiline
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| adj.钩状的，鹰的 | |
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118
revolving
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| adj.旋转的，轮转式的；循环的v.（使）旋转( revolve的现在分词 )；细想 | |
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119
unfamiliar
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| adj.陌生的，不熟悉的 | |
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120
gentry
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| n.绅士阶级，上层阶级 | |
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121
tarnished
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| （通常指金属）（使）失去光泽，（使）变灰暗( tarnish的过去式和过去分词 )； 玷污，败坏 | |
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122
cane
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| n.手杖，细长的茎，藤条；v.以杖击，以藤编制的 | |
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123
lame
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| adj.跛的，(辩解、论据等)无说服力的 | |
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124
intoxicating
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| a. 醉人的,使人兴奋的 | |
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125
alcoholic
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| adj.（含）酒精的，由酒精引起的；n.酗酒者 | |
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126
deviated
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| v.偏离，越轨( deviate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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127
swooping
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| 俯冲，猛冲( swoop的现在分词 ) | |
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128
dire
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| adj.可怕的，悲惨的，阴惨的，极端的 | |
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129
graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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130
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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131
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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132
vacancy
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| n.（旅馆的）空位，空房，（职务的）空缺 | |
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133
racing
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| n.竞赛，赛马；adj.竞赛用的，赛马用的 | |
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134
shuddered
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| v.战栗( shudder的过去式和过去分词 )；发抖；（机器、车辆等）突然震动；颤动 | |
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135
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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136
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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137
iniquity
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| n.邪恶；不公正 | |
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138
bracelet
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| n.手镯，臂镯 | |
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139
gems
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| growth； economy； management； and customer satisfaction 增长 | |
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140
ornament
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| v.装饰，美化；n.装饰，装饰物 | |
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141
turquoise
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| n.绿宝石；adj.蓝绿色的 | |
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142
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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143
throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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144
ruminating
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| v.沉思( ruminate的现在分词 )；反复考虑；反刍；倒嚼 | |
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145
rustling
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| n. 瑟瑟声，沙沙声 adj. 发沙沙声的 | |
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146
advent
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| n.(重要事件等的)到来，来临 | |
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147
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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148
ridiculed
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| v.嘲笑，嘲弄，奚落( ridicule的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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149
sneered
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| 讥笑，冷笑( sneer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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150
condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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151
questionable
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| adj.可疑的，有问题的 | |
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152
peril
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| n.(严重的)危险；危险的事物 | |
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153
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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154
meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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155
babble
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| v.含糊不清地说，胡言乱语地说，儿语 | |
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156
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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157
recesses
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| n.壁凹( recess的名词复数 )；（工作或业务活动的）中止或暂停期间；学校的课间休息；某物内部的凹形空间v.把某物放在墙壁的凹处( recess的第三人称单数 )；将（墙）做成凹形，在（墙）上做壁龛；休息，休会，休庭 | |
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158
scrawl
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| vt.潦草地书写；n.潦草的笔记，涂写 | |
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159
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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160
metallic
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| adj.金属的；金属制的；含金属的；产金属的；像金属的 | |
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