In which We See Nature Making of a Woman a Maid Again, and a Thrice Whimsical.
On their way from London, after leaving the station, the drive through the valley led them past a field, where cricketers were at work bowling1 and batting under a vertical2 sun: not a very comprehensible sight to ladies, whose practical tendencies, as observers of the other sex, incline them to question the gain of such an expenditure3 of energy. The dispersal of the alphabet over a printed page is not less perplexing to the illiterate4. As soon as Emma Dunstane discovered the Copsley head-gamekeeper at one wicket, and, actually, Thomas Redworth facing him, bat in hand, she sat up, greatly interested. Sir Lukin stopped the carriage at the gate, and reminded his wife that it was the day of the year for the men of his estate to encounter a valley Eleven. Redworth, like the good fellow he was, had come down by appointment in the morning out of London, to fill the number required, Copsley being weak this year. Eight of their wickets had fallen for a lament5 able figure of twenty-nine runs; himself clean-bowled the first ball. But Tom Redworth had got fast hold of his wicket, and already scored fifty to his bat. ‘There! grand hit!’ Sir Lukin cried, the ball flying hard at the rails. ‘Once a cricketer, always a cricketer, if you’ve legs to fetch the runs. And Pullen’s not doing badly. His business is to stick. We shall mark them a hundred yet. I do hate a score on our side without the two 00’s.’ He accounted for Redworth’s mixed colours by telling the ladies he had lent him his flannel6 jacket; which, against black trousers, looked odd but not ill.
Gradually the enthusiasm of the booth and bystanders converted the flying of a leather ball into a subject of honourable7 excitement.
‘And why are you doing nothing?’ Sir Lukin was asked; and he explained:
‘My stumps8 are down: I’m married.’ He took his wife’s hand prettily9.
Diana had a malicious10 prompting. She smothered11 the wasp12, and said: ‘Oh! look at that!’
‘Grand hit again! Oh! good! good!’ cried Sir Lukin, clapping to it, while the long-hit-off ran spinning his legs into one for an impossible catch; and the batsmen were running and stretching bats, and the ball flying away, flying back, and others after it, and still the batsmen running, till it seemed that the ball had escaped control and was leading the fielders on a coltish13 innings of its own, defiant14 of bowlers15.
Diana said merrily: ‘Bravo our side!’
‘Bravo, old Tom Redworth’; rejoined Sir Lukin. ‘Four, and a three! And capital weather, haven’t we: Hope we shall have same sort day next month—return match, my ground. I’ve seen Tom Redworth score—old days—over two hundred t’ his bat. And he used to bowl too. But bowling wants practice. And, Emmy, look at the old fellows lining16 the booth, pipe in mouth and cheering. They do enjoy a day like this. We’ll have a supper for fifty at Copsley’s:—it’s fun. By Jove! we must have reached up to near the hundred.’
He commissioned a neighbouring boy to hie to the booth for the latest figures, and his emissary taught lightning a lesson.
Diana praised the little fellow.
‘Yes, he’s a real English boy,’ said Emma.
‘We’ve thousands of ’em, thousands, ready to your hand,’ exclaimed Sir Lukin, ‘and a confounded Radicalized country...’ he murmured gloomily of ‘lets us be kicked!... any amount of insult, meek18 as gruel19!... making of the finest army the world has ever seen! You saw the papers this morning? Good heaven! how a nation with an atom of self-respect can go on standing20 that sort of bullying21 from foreigners! We do. We’re insulted and we’re threatened, and we call for a hymn22!—Now then, my man, what is it?’
The boy had flown back. ‘Ninety-two marked, sir; ninety-nine runs; one more for the hundred.’
‘Well reckoned; and mind you’re up at Copsley for the return match.—And Tom Redworth says, they may bite their thumbs to the bone—they don’t hurt us. I tell him, he has no sense of national pride. He says, we’re not prepared for war: We never are! And whose the fault? Says, we’re a peaceful people, but ‘ware who touches us! He doesn’t feel a kick.—Oh! clever snick! Hurrah23 for the hundred!—Two-three. No, don’t force the running, you fools!—though they’re wild with the ball: ha!—no?—all right!’ The wicket stood. Hurrah!
The heat of the noonday sun compelled the ladies to drive on.
‘Enthusiasm has the privilege of not knowing monotony,’ said Emma. ‘He looks well in flannels24.’
‘Yes, he does,’ Diana replied, aware of the reddening despite her having spoken so simply. ‘I think the chief advantage men have over us is in their amusements.’
‘Their recreations.’
‘That is the better word.’ Diana fanned her cheeks and said she was warm. ‘I mean, the permanent advantage. For you see that age does not affect them.’
‘Tom Redworth is not a patriarch, my dear.’
‘Well, he is what would be called mature.’
‘He can’t be more than thirty-two or three; and that, for a man of his constitution, means youth.’
‘Well, I can imagine him a patriarch playing cricket.’
‘I should imagine you imagine the possible chances. He is the father who would play with his boys.’
‘And lock up his girls in the nursery.’ Diana murmured of the extraordinary heat.
Emma begged her to remember her heterodox views of the education for girls.
‘He bats admirably,’ said Diana. ‘I wish I could bat half as well.’
‘Your batting is with the tongue.’
‘Not so good. And a solid bat, or bludgeon, to defend the poor stumps, is surer. But there is the difference of cricket:—when your stumps are down, you are idle, at leisure; not a miserable25 prisoner.’
‘Supposing all marriages miserable.’
‘To the mind of me,’ said Diana, and observed Emma’s rather saddened eyelids26 for a proof that schemes to rob her of dear liberty were certainly planned.
They conversed27 of expeditions to Redworth’s Berkshire mansion29, and to The Crossways, untenanted at the moment, as he had informed Emma, who fancied it would please Tony to pass a night in the house she loved; but as he was to be of the party she coldly acquiesced30.
The woman of flesh refuses pliancy31 when we want it of her, and will not, until it is her good pleasure, be bent32 to the development called a climax33, as the puppet-woman, mother of Fiction and darling of the multitude! ever amiably34 does, at a hint of the Nuptial35 Chapter. Diana in addition sustained the weight of brains. Neither with waxen optics nor with subservient36 jointings did she go through her pathways of the world. Her direct individuality rejected the performance of simpleton, and her lively blood, the warmer for its containment37 quickened her to penetrate38 things and natures; and if as yet, in justness to the loyal male friend, she forbore to name him conspirator39, she read both him and Emma, whose inner bosom40 was revealed to her, without an effort to see. But her characteristic chasteness41 of mind, not coldness of the ‘blood,—which had supported an arduous42 conflict, past all existing rights closely to depict43, and which barbed her to pierce to the wishes threatening her freedom, deceived her now to think her flaming blushes came of her relentless44 divination45 on behalf of her recovered treasure: whereby the clear reading of others distracted the view of herself. For one may be the cleverest alive, and still hoodwinked while blood is young and warm.
The perpetuity of the contrast presented to her reflections, of Redworth’s healthy, open, practical, cheering life, and her own freakishly interwinding, darkly penetrative, simulacrum of a life, cheerless as well as useless, forced her humiliated46 consciousness by degrees, in spite of pride, to the knowledge that she was engaged in a struggle with him; and that he was the stronger;—it might be, the worthier47: she thought him the handsomer. He throve to the light of day, and she spun48 a silly web that meshed49 her in her intricacies. Her intuition of Emma’s wishes led to this; he was constantly before her. She tried to laugh at the image of the concrete cricketer, half-flannelled, and red of face: the ‘lucky calculator,’ as she named him to Emma, who shook her head, and sighed. The abstract, healthful and powerful man, able to play besides profitably working, defied those poor efforts. Consequently, at once she sent up a bubble to the skies, where it became a spheral realm, of far too fine an atmosphere for men to breathe in it; and thither50 she transported herself at will, whenever the contrast, with its accompanying menace of a tyrannic subjugation51, overshadowed her. In the above, the kingdom composed of her shattered romance of life and her present aspirings, she was free and safe. Nothing touched her there—nothing that Redworth did. She could not have admitted there her ideal of a hero. It was the sublimation52 of a virgin’s conception of life, better fortified53 against the enemy. She peopled it with souls of the great and pure, gave it illimitable horizons, dreamy nooks, ravishing landscapes, melodies of the poets of music. Higher and more-celestial than the Salvatore, it was likewise, now she could assure herself serenely54, independent of the horrid55 blood-emotions. Living up there, she had not a feeling.
The natural result of this habit of ascending56 to a superlunary home, was the loss of an exact sense of how she was behaving below. At the Berkshire mansion, she wore a supercilious57 air, almost as icy as she accused the place of being. Emma knew she must have seen in the library a row of her literary ventures, exquisitely58 bound; but there was no allusion59 to the books. Mary Paynham’s portrait of Mrs. Warwick hung staring over the fireplace, and was criticized, as though its occupancy of that position had no significance.
‘He thinks she has a streak60 of genius,’ Diana said to Emma.
‘It may be shown in time,’ Emma replied, for a comment on the work. ‘He should know, for the Spanish pictures are noble acquisitions.’
‘They are, doubtless, good investments.’
He had been foolish enough to say, in Diana’s hearing, that he considered the purchase of the Berkshire estate a good investment. It had not yet a name. She suggested various titles for Emma to propose: ‘The Funds’; or ‘Capital Towers’; or ‘Dividend Manor’; or ‘Railholm’; blind to the evidence of inflicting61 pain. Emma, from what she had guess concerning the purchaser of The Crossways, apprehended62 a discovery there which might make Tony’s treatment of him unkinder, seeing that she appeared actuated contrariously; and only her invalid’s new happiness in the small excursions she was capable of taking to a definite spot, of some homely63 attractiveness, moved her to follow her own proposal for the journey. Diana pleaded urgently, childishly in tone, to have Arthur Rhodes with them, ‘so as to be sure of a sympathetic companion for a walk on the Downs.’ At The Crossways, they were soon aware that Mr. Redworth’s domestics were in attendance to serve them. Manifestly the house was his property, and not much of an investment! The principal bed-room, her father’s once, and her own, devoted64 now to Emma’s use, appalled65 her with a resemblance to her London room. She had noticed some of her furniture at ‘Dividend Manor,’ and chosen to consider it in the light of a bargain from a purchase at the sale of her goods. Here was her bed, her writing-table, her chair of authorship, desks, books, ornaments66, water-colour sketches67. And the drawing-room was fitted with her brackets and etageres, holding every knickknack she had possessed68 and scattered69, small bronzes, antiques, ivory junks, quaint70 ivory figures Chinese and Japanese, bits of porcelain71, silver incense-urns, dozens of dainty sundries. She had a shamed curiosity to spy for an omission72 of one of them; all were there. The Crossways had been turned into a trap.
Her reply to this blunt wooing, conspired73, she felt justifled in thinking, between him and Emma, was emphatic74 in muteness. She treated it as if unobserved. At night, in bed, the scene of his mission from Emma to her under this roof, barred her customary ascent75 to her planetary kingdom. Next day she took Arthur after breakfast for a walk on the Downs and remained absent till ten minutes before the hour of dinner. As to that young gentleman, he was near to being caressed76 in public. Arthur’s opinions, his good sayings, were quoted; his excellent companionship on really poetical78 walks, and perfect sympathy, praised to his face. Challenged by her initiative to a kind of language that threw Redworth out, he declaimed: ‘We pace with some who make young morning stale.’
‘Oh! stale as peel of fruit long since consumed,’ she chimed.
And go they proceeded; and they laughed, Emma smiled a little, Redworth did the same beneath one of his questioning frowns—a sort of fatherly grimace79.
A suspicion that this man, when infatuated, was able to practise the absurdest benevolence80, the burlesque81 of chivalry82, as a man-admiring sex esteems84 it, stirred very naughty depths of the woman in Diana, labouring under her perverted85 mood. She put him to proof, for the chance of arming her wickedest to despise him. Arthur was petted, consulted, cited, flattered all round; all but caressed. She played, with a reserve, the maturish young woman smitten86 by an adorable youth; and enjoyed doing it because she hoped for a visible effect—more paternal87 benevolence—and could do it so dispassionately. Coquettry, Emma thought, was most unworthily shown; and it was of the worst description. Innocent of conspiracy88, she had seen the array of Tony’s lost household treasures she wondered at a heartlessness that would not even utter common thanks to the friendly man for the compliment of prizing her portrait and the things she had owned; and there seemed an effort to wound him.
The invalided89 woman, charitable with allowances for her erratic90 husband, could offer none for the woman of a long widowhood, that had become a trebly sensitive maidenhood91; abashed93 by her knowledge of the world, animated94 by her abounding95 blood; cherishing her new freedom, dreading96 the menacer; feeling that though she held the citadel97, she was daily less sure of its foundations, and that her hope of some last romance in life was going; for in him shone not a glimpse. He appeared to Diana as a fatal power, attracting her without sympathy, benevolently98 overcoming: one of those good men, strong men, who subdue99 and do not kindle100. The enthralment revolted a nature capable of accepting subjection only by burning. In return for his moral excellence101, she gave him the moral sentiments: esteem83, gratitude102, abstract admiration103, perfect faith. But the man? She could not now say she had never been loved; and a flood of tenderness rose in her bosom, swelling104 from springs that she had previously105 reproved with a desperate severity: the unhappy, unsatisfied yearning106 to be more than loved, to love. It was alive, out of the wreck107 of its first trial. This, the secret of her natural frailty108, was bitter to her pride: chastely-minded as she was, it whelmed her. And then her comic imagination pictured Redworth dramatically making love. And to a widow! It proved him to be senseless of romance. Poetic77 men take aim at maidens109. His devotedness110 to a widow was charged against him by the widow’s shudder111 at antecedents distasteful to her soul, a discolouration of her life. She wished to look entirely112 forward, as upon a world washed clear of night, not to be cast back on her antecedents by practical wooings or words of love; to live spiritually; free of the shower at her eyelids attendant on any idea of her loving. The woman who talked of the sentimentalist’s ‘fiddling harmonics,’ herself stressed the material chords, in her attempt to escape out of herself and away from her pursuer.
Meanwhile she was as little conscious of what she was doing as of how she appeared. Arthur went about with the moony air of surcharged sweetness, and a speculation113 on it, alternately tiptoe and prostrate114. More of her intoxicating115 wine was administered to him, in utter thoughtlessness of consequences to one who was but a boy and a friend, almost of her own rearing. She told Emma, when leaving The Crossways, that she had no desire to look on the place again: she wondered at Mr. Redworth’s liking116 such a solitude117. In truth, the look back on it let her perceive that her husband haunted it, and disfigured the man, of real generosity118, as her heart confessed, but whom she accused of a lack of prescient delicacy119, for not knowing she would and must be haunted there. Blaming him, her fountain of colour shot up, at a murmur17 of her unjustness and the poor man’s hopes.
A week later, the youth she publicly named ‘her Arthur’ came down to Copsley with news of his having been recommended by Mr. Redworth for the post of secretary to an old Whig nobleman famous for his patronage120 of men of letters. And besides, he expected to inherit, he said, and gazed in a way to sharpen her instincts. The wine he had drunk of late from her flowing vintage was in his eyes. They were on their usual rambles121 out along the heights. ‘Accept, by all means, and thank Mr. Redworth,’ said she, speeding her tongue to intercept122 him. ‘Literature is a good stick and a bad horse. Indeed, I ought to know. You can always write; I hope you will.’
She stepped fast, hearing: ‘Mrs. Warwick—Diana! May I take your hand?’
This was her pretty piece of work! ‘Why should you? If you speak my Christian123 name, no: you forfeit124 any pretext125. And pray, don’t loiter. We are going at the pace of the firm of Potter and Dawdle126, and you know they never got their shutters127 down till it was time to put them up again.’
Nimble-footed as she was, she pressed ahead too fleetly for amorous128 eloquence129 to have a chance. She heard ‘Diana!’ twice, through the rattling130 of her discourse131 and flapping of her dress.
‘Christian names are coin that seem to have an indifferent valuation of the property they claim,’ she said in the Copsley garden; ‘and as for hands, at meeting and parting, here is the friendliest you could have. Only don’t look rueful. My dear Arthur, spare me that, or I shall blame myself horribly.’
His chance had gone, and he composed his face. No hope in speaking had nerved him; merely the passion to speak. Diana understood the state, and pitied the naturally modest young fellow, and chafed132 at herself as a senseless incendiary, who did mischief133 right and left, from seeking to shun134 the apparently135 inevitable136. A sidethought intruded137, that he would have done his wooing poetically—not in the burly storm, or bull-Saxon, she apprehended. Supposing it imperative138 with her to choose? She looked up, and the bird of broader wing darkened the whole sky, bidding her know that she had no choice.
Emma was requested to make Mr. Redworth acquainted with her story, all of it:—‘So that this exalted139 friendship of his may be shaken to a common level. He has an unbearably140 high estimate of me, and it hurts me. Tell him all; and more than even you have known:—but for his coming to me, on the eve of your passing under the surgeon’s hands, I should have gone—flung the world my glove! A matter of minutes. Ten minutes later! The train was to start for France at eight, and I was awaited. I have to thank heaven that the man was one of those who can strike icily. Tell Mr. Redworth what I say. You two converse28 upon every subject. One may be too loftily respected—in my case. By and by—for he is a tolerant reader of life and women, I think—we shall be humdrum141 friends of the lasting142 order.’
Emma’s cheeks were as red as Diana’s. ‘I fancy Tom Redworth has not much to learn concerning any person he cares for,’ she said. ‘You like him? I have lost touch of you, my dear, and ask.’
‘I like him: that I can say. He is everything I am not. But now I am free, the sense of being undeservedly over-esteemed imposes fetters143, and I don’t like them. I have been called a Beauty. Rightly or other, I have had a Beauty’s career; and a curious caged beast’s life I have found it. Will you promise me to speak to him? And also, thank him for helping144 Arthur Rhodes to a situation.’
At this, the tears fell from her. And so enigmatical had she grown to Emma, that her bosom friend took them for a confessed attachment145 to the youth.
Diana’s wretched emotion shamed her from putting any inquiries146 whether Redworth had been told. He came repeatedly, and showed no change of face, always continuing in the form of huge hovering147 griffin; until an idea, instead of the monster bird, struck her. Might she not, after all, be cowering148 under imagination? The very maidenly149 idea wakened her womanliness—to reproach her remainder of pride, not to see more accurately150. It was the reason why she resolved, against Emma’s extreme entreaties151, to take lodgings152 in the South valley below the heights, where she could be independent of fancies and perpetual visitors, but near her beloved at any summons of urgency; which Emma would not habitually153 send because of the coming of a particular gentleman. Dresses were left at Copsley for dining and sleeping there upon occasion, and poor Danvers, despairing over the riddle154 of her mistress, was condemned155 to the melancholy156 descent.
‘It’s my belief,’ she confided157 to Lady Dunstane’s maid Bartlett, ‘she’ll hate men all her life after that Mr. Dacier.’
If women were deceived, and the riddle deceived herself, there is excuse for a plain man like Redworth in not having the slightest clue to the daily shifting feminine maze158 he beheld159. The strange thing was, that during her maiden92 time she had never been shifty or flighty, invariably limpid160 and direct.
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bowling
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| n.保龄球运动 | |
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vertical
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| adj.垂直的，顶点的，纵向的；n.垂直物，垂直的位置 | |
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expenditure
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| n.(时间、劳力、金钱等)支出；使用，消耗 | |
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illiterate
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| adj.文盲的；无知的；n.文盲 | |
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lament
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| n.悲叹，悔恨，恸哭；v.哀悼，悔恨，悲叹 | |
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flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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honourable
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| adj.可敬的；荣誉的，光荣的 | |
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stumps
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| （被砍下的树的）树桩( stump的名词复数 )； 残肢； （板球三柱门的）柱； 残余部分 | |
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prettily
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| adv.优美地；可爱地 | |
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malicious
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| adj.有恶意的，心怀恶意的 | |
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smothered
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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wasp
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| n.黄蜂，蚂蜂 | |
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coltish
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| adj.似小马的；不受拘束的；活泼的 | |
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defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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bowlers
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| n.（板球）投球手( bowler的名词复数 )；圆顶高帽 | |
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lining
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| n.衬里，衬料 | |
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murmur
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| n.低语，低声的怨言；v.低语，低声而言 | |
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meek
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gruel
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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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bullying
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| v.恐吓，威逼( bully的现在分词 )；豪；跋扈 | |
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hymn
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| n.赞美诗，圣歌，颂歌 | |
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hurrah
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| int.好哇，万岁，乌拉 | |
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flannels
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| 法兰绒男裤； 法兰绒( flannel的名词复数 ) | |
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miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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eyelids
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| n.眼睑( eyelid的名词复数 )；眼睛也不眨一下；不露声色；面不改色 | |
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conversed
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converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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mansion
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acquiesced
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pliancy
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| n.柔软，柔顺 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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climax
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amiably
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nuptial
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| adj.婚姻的，婚礼的 | |
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subservient
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containment
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penetrate
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| v.透(渗)入；刺入，刺穿；洞察，了解 | |
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conspirator
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bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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chasteness
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| n.贞操，纯洁，简洁 | |
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arduous
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| adj.艰苦的，费力的，陡峭的 | |
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depict
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| vt.描画，描绘；描写，描述 | |
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relentless
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| adj.残酷的，不留情的，无怜悯心的 | |
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divination
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| n.占卜，预测 | |
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humiliated
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| 感到羞愧的 | |
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worthier
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| 应得某事物( worthy的比较级 )； 值得做某事； 可尊敬的； 有（某人或事物）的典型特征 | |
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48
spun
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| v.纺，杜撰，急转身 | |
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49
meshed
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| 有孔的，有孔眼的，啮合的 | |
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50
thither
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| adv.向那里；adj.在那边的，对岸的 | |
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51
subjugation
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| n.镇压，平息，征服 | |
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52
sublimation
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| n.升华，升华物，高尚化 | |
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53
fortified
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| adj. 加强的 | |
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54
serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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55
horrid
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| adj.可怕的；令人惊恐的；恐怖的；极讨厌的 | |
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56
ascending
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| adj.上升的，向上的 | |
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57
supercilious
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| adj.目中无人的，高傲的；adv.高傲地；n.高傲 | |
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58
exquisitely
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| adv.精致地；强烈地；剧烈地；异常地 | |
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59
allusion
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| n.暗示，间接提示 | |
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60
streak
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| n.条理，斑纹，倾向，少许，痕迹；v.加条纹，变成条纹，奔驰，快速移动 | |
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61
inflicting
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| 把…强加给，使承受，遭受( inflict的现在分词 ) | |
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62
apprehended
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| 逮捕，拘押( apprehend的过去式和过去分词 )； 理解 | |
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63
homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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64
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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65
appalled
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| v.使惊骇，使充满恐惧( appall的过去式和过去分词)adj.惊骇的；丧胆的 | |
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66
ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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67
sketches
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| n.草图( sketch的名词复数 )；素描；速写；梗概 | |
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68
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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69
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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70
quaint
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| adj.古雅的，离奇有趣的，奇怪的 | |
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71
porcelain
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| n.瓷；adj.瓷的，瓷制的 | |
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72
omission
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| n.省略，删节；遗漏或省略的事物，冗长 | |
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73
conspired
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| 密谋( conspire的过去式和过去分词 )； 搞阴谋； （事件等）巧合； 共同导致 | |
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74
emphatic
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| adj.强调的，着重的；无可置疑的，明显的 | |
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75
ascent
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| n.(声望或地位)提高；上升，升高；登高 | |
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76
caressed
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| 爱抚或抚摸…( caress的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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77
poetic
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| adj.富有诗意的，有诗人气质的，善于抒情的 | |
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78
poetical
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| adj.似诗人的；诗一般的；韵文的；富有诗意的 | |
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79
grimace
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| v.做鬼脸，面部歪扭 | |
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80
benevolence
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| n.慈悲，捐助 | |
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81
burlesque
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| v.嘲弄，戏仿；n.嘲弄，取笑，滑稽模仿 | |
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82
chivalry
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| n.骑士气概，侠义；（男人）对女人彬彬有礼，献殷勤 | |
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83
esteem
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| n.尊敬，尊重；vt.尊重，敬重；把…看作 | |
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84
esteems
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| n.尊敬，好评( esteem的名词复数 )v.尊敬( esteem的第三人称单数 )；敬重；认为；以为 | |
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85
perverted
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| adj.不正当的v.滥用( pervert的过去式和过去分词 )；腐蚀；败坏；使堕落 | |
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86
smitten
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| 猛打，重击，打击( smite的过去分词 ) | |
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87
paternal
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| adj.父亲的，像父亲的，父系的，父方的 | |
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88
conspiracy
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| n.阴谋，密谋，共谋 | |
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89
invalided
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| 使伤残（invalid的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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90
erratic
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| adj.古怪的，反复无常的，不稳定的 | |
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91
maidenhood
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| n. 处女性, 处女时代 | |
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92
maiden
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| n.少女，处女；adj.未婚的，纯洁的，无经验的 | |
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93
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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94
animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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95
abounding
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| adj.丰富的，大量的v.大量存在，充满，富于( abound的现在分词 ) | |
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96
dreading
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| v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的现在分词 ) | |
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97
citadel
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| n.城堡；堡垒；避难所 | |
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98
benevolently
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| adv.仁慈地，行善地 | |
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99
subdue
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| vt.制服，使顺从，征服；抑制，克制 | |
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100
kindle
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| v.点燃，着火 | |
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101
excellence
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| n.优秀，杰出，(pl.)优点，美德 | |
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102
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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103
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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104
swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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105
previously
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| adv.以前，先前（地） | |
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106
yearning
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| a.渴望的；向往的；怀念的 | |
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107
wreck
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| n.失事，遇难；沉船；vt.(船等)失事，遇难 | |
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108
frailty
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| n.脆弱；意志薄弱 | |
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109
maidens
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| 处女( maiden的名词复数 )； 少女； 未婚女子； （板球运动）未得分的一轮投球 | |
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110
devotedness
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111
shudder
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| v.战粟，震动，剧烈地摇晃；n.战粟，抖动 | |
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112
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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113
speculation
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| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
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114
prostrate
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| v.拜倒，平卧，衰竭；adj.拜倒的，平卧的，衰竭的 | |
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115
intoxicating
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| a. 醉人的,使人兴奋的 | |
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116
liking
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| n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 | |
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117
solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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118
generosity
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| n.大度，慷慨，慷慨的行为 | |
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119
delicacy
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| n.精致，细微，微妙，精良；美味，佳肴 | |
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120
patronage
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| n.赞助，支援，援助；光顾，捧场 | |
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121
rambles
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| （无目的地）漫游( ramble的第三人称单数 )； （喻）漫谈； 扯淡； 长篇大论 | |
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122
intercept
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| vt.拦截，截住，截击 | |
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123
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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124
forfeit
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| vt.丧失；n.罚金，罚款，没收物 | |
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125
pretext
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| n.借口，托词 | |
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126
dawdle
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| vi.浪费时间；闲荡 | |
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127
shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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128
amorous
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| adj.多情的；有关爱情的 | |
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129
eloquence
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| n.雄辩；口才，修辞 | |
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130
rattling
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| adj. 格格作响的, 活泼的, 很好的 adv. 极其, 很, 非常 动词rattle的现在分词 | |
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131
discourse
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| n.论文，演说；谈话；话语；vi.讲述，著述 | |
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132
chafed
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| v.擦热（尤指皮肤）( chafe的过去式 )；擦痛；发怒；惹怒 | |
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133
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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134
shun
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| vt.避开，回避，避免 | |
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135
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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136
inevitable
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| adj.不可避免的，必然发生的 | |
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137
intruded
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| n.侵入的，推进的v.侵入，侵扰，打扰( intrude的过去式和过去分词 )；把…强加于 | |
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138
imperative
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| n.命令，需要；规则；祈使语气；adj.强制的；紧急的 | |
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139
exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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140
unbearably
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| adv.不能忍受地，无法容忍地；慌 | |
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141
humdrum
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| adj.单调的，乏味的 | |
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142
lasting
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| adj.永久的，永恒的；vbl.持续，维持 | |
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143
fetters
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| n.脚镣( fetter的名词复数 )；束缚v.给…上脚镣，束缚( fetter的第三人称单数 ) | |
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144
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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145
attachment
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| n.附属物，附件；依恋；依附 | |
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146
inquiries
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| n.调查( inquiry的名词复数 )；疑问；探究；打听 | |
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147
hovering
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| 鸟( hover的现在分词 )； 靠近（某事物）； （人）徘徊； 犹豫 | |
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148
cowering
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| v.畏缩，抖缩( cower的现在分词 ) | |
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149
maidenly
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| adj. 像处女的, 谨慎的, 稳静的 | |
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150
accurately
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| adv.准确地，精确地 | |
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151
entreaties
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| n.恳求，乞求( entreaty的名词复数 ) | |
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152
lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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153
habitually
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| ad.习惯地，通常地 | |
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154
riddle
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| n.谜，谜语，粗筛；vt.解谜，给…出谜，筛，检查，鉴定，非难，充满于；vi.出谜 | |
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155
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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156
melancholy
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| n.忧郁，愁思；adj.令人感伤（沮丧）的，忧郁的 | |
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157
confided
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| v.吐露（秘密，心事等）( confide的过去式和过去分词 )；（向某人）吐露（隐私、秘密等） | |
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158
maze
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| n.迷宫，八阵图，混乱，迷惑 | |
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159
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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160
limpid
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| adj.清澈的，透明的 | |
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