On the first evening of their visit Captain Aylmer was very attentive1 to his aunt. He was quite alive to the propriety2 of such attentions, and to their expediency3; and Clara was amused as she watched him while he sat by her side, by the hour together, answering little questions and making little remarks suited to the temperament4 of the old lady’s mind. She, herself, was hardly called upon to join in the conversation on that evening, and as she sat and listened, she could not but think that Will Belton would have been less adroit5, but that he would also have been more straightforward6. And yet why should not Captain Aylmer talk to his mat? Will Belton would also have talked to his aunt if he had one, but then he would have talked his own talk, and not his aunt’s talk. Clara could hardly make up her mind whether Captain Aylmer was or was not a sincere man. On the following day Aylmer was out all the morning, paying visits among his constituents7, and at three o’clock he was to make his speech in the town-hall. Special places in the gallery were to be kept for Mrs Winterfield and her niece, and the old woman was quite resolved that she would be there. As the day advanced she became very fidgety, and at length she was quite alive to the perils8 of having to climb up the town-hall stairs; but she persevered9, and at ten minutes before three she was seated in her place.
‘I suppose they will begin with prayer,’ she said to Clara. Clara, who knew nothing of the manner in which things were done at such meetings, said that she supposed so. A town councillor’s wife who sat on the other side of Mrs Winterfield here took the liberty of explaining that as the captain was going to talk politics there would be no prayers. ‘But they have prayers in the Houses of Parliament,’ said Mrs Winterfield, with much anger. To this the town councillor’s wife, who was almost silenced by the great lady’s wrath11, said that indeed she did not know. After this Mrs Winterfield continued to hope for the best, till the platform was filled and the proceedings12 had commenced. Then she declared the present men of Perivale to be a godless set, and expressed herself very sorry that her nephew had ever had anything to do with them. ‘No good can come of it, my dear,’ she said. Clara from the beginning had feared that no good would come of her aunt’s visit to the town-hall.
The business was put on foot at once, and with some little flourishing at the commencement, Captain Aylmer made his speech the same speech which we have all heard and read so often, specially13 adapted to the meridian14 of Perivale. He was a Conservative, and of course he told his hearers that a good time was coming; that he and his family were really about to buckle15 themselves to the work, and that Perivale would hear things that would surprise it. The malt tax was to go, and the farmers were to have free trade in beer the arguments from the other side having come beautifully round in their appointed circle and old England was to be old England once again. He did the thing tolerably well, as such gentlemen usually do, and Perivale was contented16 with its Member, with the exception of one Perivalian. To Mrs Winterfield, sitting up there and listening with all her ears, it seemed that he had hitherto omitted all allusion17 to any subject that was worthy18 of mention. At last he said some word about the marriage and divorce court, condemning19 the iniquity20 of the present law, to which Perivale had opposed itself violently by petition and general meetings; and upon hearing this Mrs Winterfield had thumped21 with her umbrella, and faintly cheered him with her weak old voice. But the surrounding Perivalians had heard the cheer, and it was repeated backward and forwards through the room, till the Member’s aunt thought that it might be her nephew’s mission to annul22 that godless Act of Parliament and restore the matrimonial bonds of England to their old rigidity23. When Captain Aylmer came out to hand her up to her little carriage, she patted him, and thanked him, and encouraged him; and on her way home she congratulated herself to Clara that she should have such a nephew to leave behind in her place.
Captain Aylmer was dining with the Mayor on that evening, and Mrs Winterfield was therefore able to indulge herself in talking about him. ‘I don’t see much of young men, of course,’ she said; ‘but I do not even hear of any that are like him.’ Again Clara thought of her cousin Will. Will was not at all like Frederic Aylmer; but was he not better? And yet, as she thought thus, she remembered that she had refused her cousin Will because she loved that very Frederic Aylmer whom her mind was thus condemning.
‘I’m sure he does his duty as a Member of Parliament very well,’ said Clara.
‘That alone would not be much; but when that is joined to so much that is better, it is a great deal. I am told that very few of the men in the House now are believers at all.’
‘Oh, aunt!’
‘It is terrible to think of, my dear.’
‘But, aunt; they have to take some oath, or something of that sort, to show that they are Christians24.’
‘Not now, my dear. They’ve done away with all that since we had Jew members. An atheist25 can go into Parliament now; and I’m told that most of them are that, or nearly as bad. I can remember when no Papist could sit in Parliament. But they seem to me to be doing away with everything. It’s a great comfort to me that Frederic is what he is.’
‘I’m sure it must be, aunt.’
Then there was a pause, during which, however, Mrs Winterfield gave no sign that the conversation was to be considered as being over. Clara knew her aunt’s ways so well, that she was sure something more was coming, and therefore waited patiently, without any thought of taking up her book. ‘I was speaking to him about you yesterday,’ Mrs Winterfield said at last.
‘That would not interest him very much.’
‘Why not? Do you suppose he is not interested in those I love? Indeed, it did interest him; and he told me what I did not know before, and what you ought to have told me.’
Clara now blushed, she knew not why, and became agitated26. ‘I don’t know that I have kept anything from you that I ought to have told,’ she said.
‘He says that the provision made for you by your father has all been squandered27.’
‘If he used that word he has been very unkind,’ said Clara, angrily.
‘I don’t know what word he used, but he was not unkind at all; he never is. I think he was very generous.
‘I do not want his generosity28, aunt,’
‘That is nonsense, my dear. If he has told me the truth, what have you to depend on?’
‘I don’t want to depend on anything. I hate hearing about it.’
‘Clara, I wonder you can talk in that way. If you were only seventeen it would be very foolish; but at your age it is inexcusable. When I am gone, and your father is gone, who is to provide for you? Will your cousin do it Mr Belton, who is to have the property?’
‘Yes, he would if I would let him of course I would not let him. But, aunt, pray do not go on. I would sooner have to starve than talk about it at all.’
There was another pause; but Clara again knew that the conversation was not over; and she knew also that it would be vain for her to endeavour to begin another subject. Nor could she think of anything else to say, so much was she agitated.
‘What makes you suppose that Mr Belton would be so liberal?’ asked Mrs Winterfield.
‘I don’t know. I can’t say. He is the nearest relation I shall have; and of all the people I ever knew he is the best, and the most generous, and the least selfish. When he came to us papa was quite hostile to him disliking his very name; but when the time came, papa could not bear to think of his going, because he had been so good.’
‘Clara!’
‘Well, aunt.’
‘I hope you know my affection for you.’
‘Of course I do, aunt; and I hope you trust mine for you also.’
‘Is there anything between you and Mr Belton besides cousinship?’
‘Nothing.’
‘Because if I thought that, my trouble would of course be at an end.’
‘There is nothing but pray do not lot me be a trouble to you.’ Clara, for a moment, almost resolved to tell her aunt the whole truth; but she remembered that she would be treating her cousin badly if she told the story of his rejection29.
There was another short period of silence, and then Mrs Winterfield went on. ‘Frederic thinks that I should make some provision for you by will. That, of course, is the same as though he offered to do it himself. I told him that it would be so, and I read him my will last night. He said that that made no difference, and recommended me to add a codicil30. I asked him how much I ought to give you, and he said fifteen hundred pounds. There will be as much as that after burying me without burden to the estate. You must acknowledge that he has been very generous.’
But Clara, in her heart, did not at all thank Captain Aylmer for his generosity. She would have had everything from him, or nothing. It was grievous to her to think that she should owe to him a bare pittance31 to keep her out of the workhouse to him who had twice seemed to be on the point of asking her to share everything with him. She did not love her cousin Will as she loved him; but her cousin Will’s assurance to her that he would treat her with a brother’s care was sweeter to her by far than Frederic Aylmer’s well-balanced counsel to his aunt on her behalf. In her present mood, too, she wanted no one to have fore10. thought for her; she desired no provision; for her, in the discomfiture32 of heart, there was consolation33 in the feeling that when she should find herself alone in the world, she would have been ill-treated by her friends all round her. There was a charm in the prospect34 of her desolation of which she did not wish to be robbed by the assurance of some seventy pounds a year, to be given to her by Captain Frederic Aylmer. To be robbed of one’s grievance35 is the last and foulest36 wrong a wrong under which the most enduring temper will at last yield and become soured by which the strongest back will be broken. ‘Well, my dear,’ continued Mrs Winterfield, when Clara made no response to this appeal for praise.
‘It is so hard for me to say anything about it, aunt. What can I say but that I don’t want to be a burden to any one?’
‘That is a position which very few women can attain37, that is, very few single women.’
‘I think it would be well if all single women were strangled by the time they are thirty,’ said Clara with a fierce energy which absolutely frightened her aunt.
‘Clara! how can you say anything so wicked so abominably38 wicked?’
‘Anything would be better than being twitted in this way. How can I help it that I am not a man and able to work for my bread? But I am not above being a housemaid, and so Captain Aylmer shall find. I’d sooner be a housemaid, with nothing but my wages, than take the money which you say he is to give me. It will be of no use, aunt, for I shall not take it.’
‘It is I that am to leave it to you. It is not to be a present from Frederic.’
‘It is the same thing, aunt. He says you are to do it; and you told me just now that it was to come out of his pocket.’
‘I should have done it myself long ago, had you told me all the truth about your father’s affairs.’
‘How was I to tell you? I would sooner have bitten my tongue out. But I will tell you the truth now. If I had known that all this was to be said to me about money, and that our poverty was to be talked over between you and Captain Aylmer, I would not have come to Perivale. I would rather that you should be angry with me and think that I had forgotten you.’
‘You would not say that, Clara, if you remembered that this will probably be your last visit to me.’
‘No, no; it will not be the last. But do not talk about these things. And it will be so much better that I should be here when he is not here.’
‘I had hoped that when I died you might both be with me together as husband and wife.’
‘Such hopes never come to anything.’
‘I still think that he would wish it.’
‘That is nonsense, aunt. it is indeed, for neither of us wish it.’ A lie on such a subject from a woman under such circumstances is hardly to be considered a lie at all. It is spoken with no mean object, and is the only bulwark40 which the woman has ready at her need to cover her own weakness.
‘From what he said yesterday,’ continued Mrs Winterfield, ‘I think it is your own fault.’
‘Pray pray do not talk in that way. It cannot be matter of any fault that two people do not want to marry each other.’
‘Of course I asked him no positive question. It would be indelicate even in me to have done that. But he spoke39 as though he thought very highly of you.’
‘No doubt he does. And so do I of Mr Possitt.’
‘Mr Possitt is a very excellent young man,’ said Mrs Winterfield, gravely. Mr Possitt was, indeed, her favourite curate of Perivale, and always dined at the house on Sundays between services, when Mrs Winter-field was very particular in seeing that he took two glasses of her best port wine to support him. ‘But Mr Possitt has nothing but his curacy.’
‘There is no danger, aunt, I can assure you.’
‘I don’t know what you call danger; but Frederic seemed to think that you are always sharp with him. You don’t want to quarrel with him, I hope, because I love him better than any one in the world?’
‘Oh, aunt, what cruel things you say to me without thinking of them!’
‘I do not mean to be cruel, but I will say nothing more about him. As I told you before that I had not thought it expedient41 to leave away any portion of my little property from Frederic believing, as I did then, that the money intended for you by your father was still remaining it is best that you should now know that I have at last learnt the truth, and that I will at once see my lawyer about making the change.’
‘Dear aunt, of course I thank you.’
‘I want no thanks, Clara. I humbly42 strive to do what I believe to be my duty. I have never felt myself to be more than a steward43 of my money. That I have often failed in my stewardship44 I know well for in what duties do we not all fail?’ Then she gently laid herself back in her arm-chair, closing her eyes, while she kept fast clasped in her hands the little book of daily devotion which she had been striving to read when the conversation had been commenced. Clara knew then that nothing more was to be said, and that she was not at present to interrupt her aunt. From her posture45, and the closing of her eyelids46, Mrs Winterfield might have been judged to be asleep; but Clara could see the gentle motion of her lips, and was aware that her aunt was solacing47 herself with prayer.
Clara was angry with herself, and angry with all the world. She knew that the old lady who was sitting then before her was very good; and that all this that had now been said had come from pure goodness, and a desire that strict duty might be done; and Clara was angry with herself in that she had not been more ready with her thanks and more demonstrative with her love and gratitude48. Mrs Winterfield was affectionate as well as good, and her niece’s coldness, as the niece well knew, had hurt her sorely. But still what could Clara have done or said? She told herself that it was beyond her power to burst out into loud praises of Captain Aylmer; and of such nature was the gratitude which Mrs Winterfield had desired. She was not grateful to Captain Aylmer, and wanted nothing that was to come from his generosity. And then her mind went away to that other portion of her aunt’s discourse49. Could it be possible that this man was in truth attached to her, and was repelled51 simply by her own manner? She was aware that she had fallen into a habit of fighting with him, of sparring against him with words about indifferent things, and calling his conduct in question in a manner half playful and half serious. Could it be the truth that she was thus robbing herself of that which would be to her as to herself she had frankly52 declared the one treasure which she would desire? Twice, as has been said before, words had seemed to tremble on his lips which might have settled the question for her for ever; and on both occasions, as she knew, she herself had helped to laugh off the precious word that had been coming. But had he been thoroughly53 in earnest in earnest as she would have him to be no laugh would have deterred54 him from his purpose. Could she have laughed Will Belton out of his declaration?
At last the lips ceased to move, and she knew that her aunt was in truth asleep. The poor old lady hardly ever slept at night; but nature, claiming something of its due, would give her rest such as this in her arm-chair by the fire-side. They were sitting in a large double drawing-room upstairs, in which there were, as was customary with Mrs Winterfield in winter, two fires; and the candles were in the back-room, while the two ladies sat in that looking out into the street. This Mrs Winterfield did to save her eyes from the candles, and yet to be within reach of light if it were wanted. And Clara also sat motionless in the dark, careful not to disturb her aunt, and desirous of being with her when she should awake. Captain Aylmer bad declared his purpose of being home early from the Mayor’s dinner, and the ladies were to wait for his arrival before tea was brought to them. Clara was herself almost asleep when the door was opened, and Captain Aylmer entered the room.
‘H sh!’ she said, rising gently from her chair, and putting up her finger. He saw her by the dull light of the fire, and closed the door without a sound. Clara then crept into the back-room and he followed her with a noiseless step. ‘ She did not sleep at all last night,’ said Clara; ‘and now the unusual excitement of the day has fatigued55 her, and I think it is better not to wake her.’ The rooms were large, and they were able to place themselves at such a distance from the sleeper56 that their low words could hardly disturb her.
‘Was she very tired when she got home? ‘he asked.
‘Not very. She has been talking much since that.’
‘Has she spoken about her will to you?’
‘Yes she has.’
‘I thought she would.’ Then he was silent, as though he expected that she would speak again on that matter. But she had no wish to discuss her aunt’s will with him, and therefore, to break the silence, asked him some trifling57 question. ‘Are you not home earlier than you expected?
‘It was very dull, and there was nothing more to be said. I did come away early, and perhaps have given affront58. I hope you will accept the compliment implied.’
‘Your aunt will, when she wakes. She will be delighted to find you here.’
‘I am awake,’ said Mrs Winterfield. ‘I heard Frederic come in. It is very good of him to come so soon. Clara, my dear, we will have tea.’
During tea, Captain Aylmer was called upon to give an account of the Mayor’s feast how the rector had said grace before dinner, and Mr Possitt had done so after dinner, and how the soup had been uneatable. ‘Dear me!’ said Mrs Winterfield. ‘And yet his wife was housekeeper59 formerly60 in a family that lived very well!’ The Mrs Winterfields of this world allow themselves little spiteful pleasures of this kind, repenting61 of them, no doubt, in those frequent moments in which they talk to their friends of their own terrible vilenesses. Captain Aylmer then explained that his own health had been drunk, and his aunt desired to know whether, in returning thanks, he had been able to say anything further against that wicked Divorce Act of Parliament. This her nephew was constrained62 to answer with a negative, and so the conversation was carried on till tea was over. She was very anxious to hear every word that he could be made to utter as to his own doings in Parliament, and as to his doings in Perivale, and hung upon him with that wondrous63 affection which old people with warm hearts feel for those whom they have selected as their favourites. Clara saw it all, and knew that her aunt was almost doting64.
‘I think I’ll go up to bed now, my dears,’ said Mrs Winterfield, when she had taken her cup of tea. ‘I am tired with those weary stairs in the Town-hall, and I shall be better in my own room.’ Clara offered to go with her, but this attendance her aunt declined as she did always. So the bell was rung, and the old maid. servant walked off with her mistress, and Miss Amedroz and Captain Aylmer were left together.
‘I don’t think she will last long,’ said Captain Aylmer, soon after the door was closed.
‘I should be sorry to believe that; but she is certainly much altered.’
‘She has great courage to keep her up and a feeling that she should not give way, but do her duty to the last. In spite of all that, however, I can see how changed she is since the summer. Have you ever thought how sad it will be if she should be alone when the day comes?’
‘She has Martha, who is more to her now than any one else unless it is you.’
‘You could not remain with her over Christmas, I suppose?’
‘Who, I? What would my father do? Papa is as old, or nearly as old, as my aunt.’
‘But he is strong.’
‘He is very lonely. He would be more lonely than she is, for he has no such servant as Martha to be with him. Women can do better than men, I think, when they come to my aunt’s age.’
>From this they got into a conversation as to the character of the lady with whom they were both so nearly connected, and, in spite of all that Clara could do to prevent it, continual references were made by Captain Aylmer to her money and will, and the need of an addition to that will on Clara’s behalf. At last she was driven to speak out. ‘Captain Aylmer,’ she said, ‘the subject is so distasteful to me, that I must ask you not to speak about it.’
‘In my position I am driven to think about it.’
‘I cannot, of course, help your thoughts; but I can assure you that they are unnecessary.’
‘It seems to me so hard that there should be such a gulf65 between you and me.’ This he said after he had been silent for a while; and as he spoke he looked away from her at the fire.
‘I don’t know that there is any particular gulf,’ she replied.
‘Yes, there is. And it is you that make it. Whenever I attempt to speak to you as a friend you draw yourself off from me, and shut yourself up. I know that it is not jealousy66.’
‘Jealousy, Captain Aylmer!’
‘Jealousy with my aunt, I mean.’
‘No, indeed.’
‘You are infinitely67 too proud for that; but I am sure that a stranger seeing it would think that it was so.’
‘I don’t know what it is that I do or that I ought not to do. But all my life everything that I have done at Perivale has always been wrong.’
‘It would have been so natural that you and I should be friends.’
‘If we are enemies, Captain Aylmer, I don’t know it.’
‘But if ever I venture to speak of your future life you always repel50 me as though you were determined68 to let me know that it should not be a matter of care to me.’
‘That is exactly what I am determined to let you know. You are, or will be, a rich man, and you have everything the world can give you. I am, or shall be, a very poor woman.’
‘Is that a reason why I should not be interested in your welfare?’
‘Yes the best reason in the world. We are not related to each other, though we have a common connexion in dear Mrs Winterfield. And nothing, to my idea, can be more objectionable than any sort of dependence69 from a woman of my age on a man of yours there being no real tie of blood between them. I have spoken very plainly, Captain Aylmer, for you have made me do it.’
‘Very plainly,’ he said.
‘If I have said anything to offend you, I beg your pardon; but I was driven to explain myself.’
Then she got up and took her bed-candle in her hand.
‘You have not offended me,’ he said, as he also rose.
‘Good-night, Captain Aylmer.’
He took her hand and kept it. ‘Say that we are friends.’
‘Why should we not be friends?’
‘There is no reason on my part why we should not be the dearest friends,’ he said. ‘Were it not that I am so utterly70 without encouragement, I should say the very dearest.’ He still held her hand, and was looking into her face as he spoke. For a moment she stood there, bearing his gaze, as though she expected some further words to be spoken. Then she withdrew her hand, and again saying, in a clear voice, ‘Good-night, Captain Aylmer,’ she left the room.
收听单词发音 |
1
attentive
|
|
| adj.注意的，专心的；关心(别人)的，殷勤的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
2
propriety
|
|
| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
3
expediency
|
|
| n.适宜；方便；合算；利己 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
4
temperament
|
|
| n.气质，性格，性情 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
5
adroit
|
|
| adj.熟练的，灵巧的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
6
straightforward
|
|
| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
7
constituents
|
|
| n.选民( constituent的名词复数 )；成分；构成部分；要素 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
8
perils
|
|
| 极大危险( peril的名词复数 )； 危险的事（或环境） | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
9
persevered
|
|
| v.坚忍，坚持( persevere的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
10
fore
|
|
| adv.在前面；adj.先前的；在前部的；n.前部 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
11
wrath
|
|
| n.愤怒，愤慨，暴怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
12
proceedings
|
|
| n.进程，过程，议程；诉讼(程序)；公报 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
13
specially
|
|
| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
14
meridian
|
|
| adj.子午线的；全盛期的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
15
buckle
|
|
| n.扣子，带扣；v.把...扣住，由于压力而弯曲 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
16
contented
|
|
| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
17
allusion
|
|
| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
18
worthy
|
|
| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
19
condemning
|
|
| v.（通常因道义上的原因而）谴责( condemn的现在分词 )；宣判；宣布…不能使用；迫使…陷于不幸的境地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
20
iniquity
|
|
| n.邪恶；不公正 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
21
thumped
|
|
| v.重击， （指心脏）急速跳动( thump的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
22
annul
|
|
| v.宣告…无效，取消，废止 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
23
rigidity
|
|
| adj.钢性，坚硬 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
24
Christians
|
|
| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
25
atheist
|
|
| n.无神论者 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
26
agitated
|
|
| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
27
squandered
|
|
| v.（指钱，财产等）浪费，乱花( squander的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
28
generosity
|
|
| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
29
rejection
|
|
| n.拒绝，被拒，抛弃，被弃 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
30
codicil
|
|
| n.遗嘱的附录 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
31
pittance
|
|
| n.微薄的薪水，少量 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
32
discomfiture
|
|
| n.崩溃；大败；挫败；困惑 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
33
consolation
|
|
| n.安慰，慰问 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
34
prospect
|
|
| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
35
grievance
|
|
| n.怨愤，气恼，委屈 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
36
foulest
|
|
| adj.恶劣的( foul的最高级 )；邪恶的；难闻的；下流的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
37
attain
|
|
| vt.达到，获得，完成 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
38
abominably
|
|
| adv. 可恶地，可恨地，恶劣地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
39
spoke
|
|
| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
40
bulwark
|
|
| n.堡垒，保障，防御 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
41
expedient
|
|
| adj.有用的，有利的；n.紧急的办法，权宜之计 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
42
humbly
|
|
| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
43
steward
|
|
| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
44
stewardship
|
|
| n. n. 管理工作；管事人的职位及职责 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
45
posture
|
|
| n.姿势，姿态，心态，态度；v.作出某种姿势 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
46
eyelids
|
|
| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
47
solacing
|
|
| v.安慰，慰藉( solace的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
|
48
gratitude
|
|
| adj.感激，感谢 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
49
discourse
|
|
| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
50
repel
|
|
| v.击退，抵制，拒绝，排斥 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
51
repelled
|
|
| v.击退( repel的过去式和过去分词 )；使厌恶；排斥；推开 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
52
frankly
|
|
| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
53
thoroughly
|
|
| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
54
deterred
|
|
| v.阻止，制止( deter的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
55
fatigued
|
|
| adj. 疲乏的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
56
sleeper
|
|
| n.睡眠者，卧车，卧铺 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
57
trifling
|
|
| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
58
affront
|
|
| n./v.侮辱，触怒 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
59
housekeeper
|
|
| n.管理家务的主妇，女管家 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
60
formerly
|
|
| adv.从前，以前 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
61
repenting
|
|
| 对（自己的所为）感到懊悔或忏悔( repent的现在分词 ) | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
62
constrained
|
|
| adj.束缚的,节制的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
63
wondrous
|
|
| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
64
doting
|
|
| adj.溺爱的，宠爱的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
65
gulf
|
|
| n.海湾；深渊，鸿沟；分歧，隔阂 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
66
jealousy
|
|
| n.妒忌，嫉妒，猜忌 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
67
infinitely
|
|
| adv.无限地，无穷地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
68
determined
|
|
| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
69
dependence
|
|
| n.依靠，依赖；信任，信赖；隶属 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
|
70
utterly
|
|
| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
参考例句： |
|
|
|
| 欢迎访问英文小说网 |