‘Where is Miss Palliser?’ inquired Miss Pew, in that awful voice of hers, at which the class-room trembled, as at unexpected thunder. A murmur1 ran along the desks, from girl to girl, and then some one, near that end of the long room which was sacred to Miss Pew and her lieutenants2, said that Miss Palliser was not in the class-room.
‘I think she is taking her music lesson, ma’am,’ faltered4 the girl who had ventured diffidently to impart this information to the schoolmistress.
‘Think?’ exclaimed Miss Pew, in her stentorian5 voice. ‘How can you think about an absolute fact? Either she is taking her lesson, or she is not taking her lesson. There is no room for thought. Let Miss Palliser be sent for this moment.’
At this command, as at the behest of the Homeric Jove himself, half a dozen Irises6 started up to carry the ruler’s message; but again Miss Pew’s mighty7 tones resounded8 in the echoing class-room.
‘I don’t want twenty girls to carry one message. Let Miss Rylance go.’
There was a grim smile on the principal’s coarsely-featured countenance9 as she gave this order. Miss Rylance was not one of the six who had started up to do the schoolmistress’s bidding. She was a young lady who considered her mission in life anything rather than to carry a message — a young lady who thought herself quite the most refined and elegant thing at Mauleverer Manor10, and so entirely11 superior to her surroundings as to be absolved12 from the necessity of being obliging. But Miss Pew’s voice, when fortified13 by anger, was too much even for Miss Rylance’s calm sense of her own merits, and she rose at the lady’s bidding, laid down her ivory penholder on the neatly14 written exercise, and walked out of the room quietly, with the slow and stately deportment imparted by a long course of instruction from Madame Rigolette, the fashionable dancing-mistress.
‘Rylance won’t much like being sent on a message,’ whispered Miss Cobb, the Kentish brewer’s daughter, to Miss Mullins, the Northampton carriage-builder’s heiress.
‘And old Pew delights in taking her down a peg,’ said Miss Cobb, who was short, plump, and ruddy, a picture of rude health and unrefined good looks — a girl who bore ‘beer’ written in unmistakable characters across her forehead, Miss Rylance had observed to her own particular circle. ‘I will say that for the old lady,’ added Miss Cobb, ‘she never cottons to stuckupishness.’
Vulgarity of speech is the peculiar15 delight of a schoolgirl off duty. She spends so much of her life under the all-pervading eye of authority, she is so drilled, and lectured, and ruled and regulated, that, when the eye of authority is off her, she seems naturally to degenerate16 into licence. No speech so interwoven with slang as the speech of a schoolgirl — except that of a schoolboy.
There came a sudden hush17 upon the class-room after Miss Rylance had departed on her errand. It was a sultry afternoon in late June, and the four rows of girls seated at the two long desks in the long bare room, with its four tall windows facing a hot blue sky, felt almost as exhausted18 by the heat as if they had been placed under an air-pump. Miss Pew had a horror of draughts19, so the upper sashes were only lowered a couple of inches, to let out the used atmosphere. There was no chance of a gentle west wind blowing in to ruffle20 the loose hair upon the foreheads of those weary students.
Thursday afternoons were devoted21 to the study of German. The sandy-haired young woman at the end of the room furthest from Miss Pew’s throne was Fr?ulein Wolf, from Frankfort, and it was Fr?ulein Wolf’s mission to go on eternally explaining the difficulties of her native language to the pupils at Mauleverer Manor, and to correct those interesting exercises of Ollendorff’s which ascend22 from the primitive23 simplicity24 of golden candlesticks and bakers’ dogs, to the loftiest themes in romantic literature.
For five minutes there was no sound save the scratching of pens, and the placid25 voice of the Fr?ulein demonstrating to Miss Mullins that in an exercise of twenty lines, ten words out of every twenty were wrong, and then the door was opened suddenly — not at all in the manner so carefully instilled26 by the teacher of deportment. It was flung back, rather, as if with an angry hand, and a young woman, taller than the generality of her sex, walked quickly up the room to Miss Pew’s desk, and stood before that bar of justice, with head erect27, and dark flashing eyes, the incarnation of defiance29.
’Was für ein M?dchen.‘ muttered the Fr?ulein, blinking at that distant figure, with her pale gray-green eyes.
Miss Pew pretended not to see the challenge in the girl’s angry eyes. She turned to her subordinate, Miss Pillby, the useful drudge30 who did a little indifferent teaching in English grammar and geography, looked after the younger girls’ wardrobes, and toadied31 the mistress of the house.
‘Miss Pillby, will you be kind enough to show Ida Palliser the state of her desk?’ asked Miss Pew, with awe-inspiring politeness.
‘She needn’t do anything of the kind, ‘said Ida coolly. ‘I know the state of my desk quite as well as she does. I daresay it’s untidy. I haven’t had time to put things straight.’
‘Untidy!’ exclaimed Miss Pew, in her appalling32 baritone; ‘untidy is not the word. It’s degrading. Miss Pillby, be good enough to call over the various articles which you have found in Ida Palliser’s desk.’
Miss Pillby rose to do her employer’s bidding. She was a dull piece of human machinery33 to which the idea of resistance to authority was impossible. There was no dirty work she would not have done meekly34, willingly even, at Miss Pew’s bidding. The girls were never tired of expatiating35 upon Miss Pillby’s meanness; but the lady herself did not even know that she was mean. She had been born so.
She went to the locker36, lifted the wooden lid, and proceeded in a flat, drawling voice to call over the items which she found in that receptacle.
‘A novel, “The Children of the Abbey,” without a cover.’
‘Ah!’ sighed Miss Pew.
‘One stocking with a rusty37 darning-needle sticking in it. Five apples, two mouldy. A square of hardbake. An old neck-ribbon. An odd cuff38. Seven letters. A knife, with the blade broken. A bundle of pen-and-ink — well, I suppose they are meant for sketches39.’
‘Hand them over to me,’ commanded Miss Pew.
She had seen some of Ida Palliser’s pen-and-ink sketches before to-day — had seen herself represented in every ridiculous guise40 and attitude by that young person’s facile pen. Her large cheeks reddened in anticipation41 of her pupil’s insolence42. She took the sheaf of crumpled43 paper and thrust it hastily into her pocket.
A ripple44 of laughter swept over Miss Palliser’s resolute45 face; but she said not a word.
‘Half a New Testament46 — the margins47 shamefully48 scribbled49 over,’ pursued Miss Pillby, with implacable monotony. ‘Three Brazil nuts. A piece of slate-pencil. The photograph of a little boy —’
‘My brother,’ cried Ida hastily. ‘I hope you are not going to confiscate50 that, Miss Pew, as you have confiscated51 my sketches.’
‘It would be no more than you deserve if I were to burn everything in your locker, Miss Palliser,’ said the schoolmistress.
‘Burn everything except my brother’s portrait. I might never get another. Papa is so thoughtless. Oh, please, Miss Pillby, give me back the photo.’
‘Give her the photograph,’ said Miss Pew, who was not all inhuman52, although she kept a school, a hardening process which is supposed to deaden the instincts of womanhood. ‘And now, pray, Miss Palliser, what excuse have you to offer for your untidiness?’
‘None,’ said Ida, ‘except that I have no time to be tidy. You can’t expect tidiness from a drudge like me.’
And with this cool retort Miss Palliser turned her back upon her mistress and left the room.
‘Did you ever see such cheek?’ murmured the irrepressible Miss Cobb to her neighbour.
‘She can afford to be cheeky,’ retorted the neighbour. ‘She has nothing to lose. Old Pew couldn’t possibly treat her any worse than she does. If she did, it would be a police case.’
When Ida Palliser was in the little lobby outside the class room, she took the little boy’s photograph from her pocket, and kissed it passionately54. Then she ran upstairs to a small room on the landing, where there was nothing but emptiness and a worn-out old square piano, and sat down for her hour’s practice. She was always told off to the worst pianos in the house. She took out a book of five-finger exercises, by a Leipsic professor, placed it on the desk, and then, just as she was beginning to play, her whole frame was shaken like a bulrush in a sudden gust55 of wind; she let her head fall forward on the desk, and burst into tears, hot, passionate53 tears, that came like a flood, in spite of her determination not to cry.
What was the matter with Ida Palliser? Not much, perhaps. Only poverty, and poverty’s natural corollary, a lack of friends. She was the handsomest girl in the school, and one of the cleverest — clever in an exceptional way, which claimed admiration56 even from the coldest. She occupied the anomalous57 position of a pupil teacher, or an articled pupil. Her father, a military man, living abroad on his half pay, with a young second wife, and a five-year old son, had paid Miss Pew a lump sum of fifty pounds, and for those fifty pounds Miss Pew had agreed to maintain and educate Ida Palliser during the space of three years, to give her the benefit of instruction from the masters who attended the school, and to befit her for the brilliant and lucrative58 career of governess in a gentleman’s family. As a set-off against these advantages, Miss Pew had full liberty to exact what services she pleased from Miss Palliser, stopping short, as Miss Green had suggested, of a police case.
Miss Pew had not shown herself narrow in her ideas of the articled pupil’s capacity. It was her theory that no amount of intellectual labour, including some manual duties in the way of assisting in the lavatory59 on tub-nights, washing hair-brushes, and mending clothes, could be too much for a healthy young woman of nineteen. She always talked of Ida as a young woman. The other pupils of the same age she called girls; but of Ida she spoke60 uncompromisingly as a ‘young woman.’
‘Oh, how I hate them all!’ said Ida, in the midst of her sobs61. ‘I hate everybody, myself most of all!’
Then she pulled herself together with an effort, dried her tears hurriedly, and began her five-finger exercises, tum, tum, tum, with the little finger, all the other fingers pinned resolutely62 down upon the keys.
‘I wonder whether, if I had been ugly and stupid, they would have been a little more merciful to me?’ she said to herself.
Miss Palliser’s ability had been a disadvantage to her at Mauleverer Manor. When Miss Pew discovered that the girl had a knack63 of teaching she enlarged her sphere of tuition, and from taking the lowest class only, as former articled pupils had done, Miss Palliser was allowed to preside over the second and third classes, and thereby64 saved her employers forty pounds a year.
To teach two classes, each consisting of from fifteen to twenty girls, was in itself no trifling65 labour. But besides this Ida had to give music lessons to that lowest class which she had ceased to instruct in English and French, and whose studies were now conducted by Miss Pillby. She had her own studies, and she was eager to improve herself, for that career of governess in a gentleman’s family was the only future open to her. She used to read the advertisements in the governess column of the Times supplement, and it comforted her to see that an all-accomplished teacher demanded from eighty to a hundred a year for her services. A hundred a year was Ida’s idea of illimitable wealth. How much she might do with such a sum! She could dress herself handsomely, she could save enough money for a summer holiday in Normandy with her neglectful father and her weak little vulgar step-mother, and the half-brother, whom she loved better than anyone else in the world.
The thought of this avenue to fortune gave her fortitude66. She braced67 herself up, and set herself valourously to unriddle the perplexities of a nocturne by Chopin.
‘After all I have only to work on steadily,’ she told herself; ‘there will come an end to my slavery.’
Presently she began to laugh to herself softly:
‘I wonder whether old Pew has looked at my caricatures,’ she thought, ‘and whether she’ll treat me any worse on account of them?’
She finished her hour’s practice, put her music back into her portfolio68, which lived in an ancient canterbury under the ancient piano, and went to the room where she slept, in company with seven other spirits, as mischievous69 and altogether evilly disposed as her own.
Mauleverer Manor had not been built for a school, or it would hardly have been called a manor. There were none of those bleak70, bare dormitories, specially71 planned for the accommodation of thirty sleepers72 — none of those barrack-like rooms which strike desolation to the soul. With the exception of the large classroom which had been added at one end of the house, the manor was very much as it had been in the days of the Mauleverers, a race now as extinct as the Dodo. It was a roomy, rambling73 old house of the time of the Stuarts, and bore the date of its erection in many unmistakable peculiarities74. There were fine rooms on the ground floor, with handsome chimney-pieces and oak panelling. There were small low rooms above, curious old passages, turns and twists, a short flight of steps here, and another flight there, various levels, irregularities of all kinds, and, in the opinion of every servant who had ever lived in the house, an unimpeachable75 ghost. All Miss Pew’s young ladies believed firmly in that ghost; and there was a legend of a frizzy-haired girl from Barbados who had seen the ghost, and had incontinently gone out of one epileptic fit into another, until her father had come in a fly — presumably from Barbados — and carried her away for ever, epileptic to the last.
Nobody at present located at Mauleverer Manor remembered that young lady from Barbados, nor had any of the existing pupils ever seen the ghost. But the general faith in him was unshaken. He was described as an elderly man in a snuff-coloured, square-cut coat, knee-breeches, and silk stockings rolled up over his knees. He was supposed to be one of the extinct Mauleverers; harmless and even benevolently76 disposed; given to plucking flowers in the garden at dusk; and to gliding77 along passages, and loitering on the stairs in a somewhat inane78 manner. The bolder-spirited among the girls would have given a twelve-month’s pocket money to see him. Miss Pillby declared that the sight of that snuff-coloured stranger would be her death.
‘I’ve a weak ‘art, you know,’ said Miss Pillby, who was not mistress of her aspirates — she managed them sometimes, but they often evaded79 her — ‘the doctor said so when I was quite a little thing.’
‘Were you ever a little thing, Pillby?’ asked Miss Rylance with superb disdain80, the present Pillby being long and gaunt.
And the group of listeners laughed, with that frank laughter of school girls keenly alive to the ridiculous in other people. There was as much difference in the standing81 of the various bedrooms at Mauleverer Manor as in that of the London squares, but in this case it was the inhabitants who gave character to the locality. The five-bedded room off the front landing was occupied by the stiffest and best behaved of the first division, and might be ranked with Grosvenor Square or Lancaster Gate. There were rooms on the second floor where girls of the second and third division herded82 in inelegant obscurity, the Bloomsbury and Camden Town of the mansion83. On this story, too, slept the rabble84 of girls under twelve — creatures utterly85 despicable in the minds of girls in their teens, and the rooms they inhabited ranked as low as St. Giles’s.
Ida Palliser was fortunate enough to have a bed in the butterfly-room, so called on account of a gaudy86 wall paper, whereon Camberwell Beauties disported87 themselves among roses and lilies in a strictly88 conventional style of art. The butterfly-room was the most fashionable and altogether popular dormitory at the Manor. It was the May Fair — a district not without a shade of Bohemianism, a certain fastness of tone. The wildest girls in the school were to be found in the butterfly-room.
It was a pleasant enough room in itself, even apart from its association with pleasant people. The bow window looked out upon the garden and across the garden to the Thames, which at this point took a wide curve between banks shaded by old pollard willows89. The landscape was purely90 pastoral. Beyond the level meadows came an undulating line of low hill and woodland, with here and there a village spire91 dark against the blue.
Mauleverer Manor lay midway between Hampton and Chertsey, in a land of meadows and gardens which the speculating builder had not yet invaded.
The butterfly-room was furnished a little better than the common run of boarding-school bedchambers. Miss Pew had taken a good deal of the Mauleverer furniture at a valuation when she bought the old house; and the Mauleverer furniture being of a rococo92 and exploded style, the valuation had been ridiculously low. Thus it happened that a big wainscot wardrobe, with doors substantial enough for a church, projected its enormous bulk upon one side of the butterfly-room, while a tall narrow cheval glass stood in front of a window. That cheval was the glory of the butterfly-room. The girls could see how their skirts hung, and if the backs of their dresses fitted. On Sunday mornings there used to be an incursion of outsiders, eager to test the effect of their Sabbath bonnets93, and the sets of their jackets, by the cheval.
And now Ida Palliser came into the butterfly-room, yawning wearily, to brush herself up a little before tea, knowing that Miss Pew and her younger sister, Miss Dulcibella — who devoted herself to dress and the amenities94 of life generally — would scrutinize95 her with eyes only too ready to see anything amiss.
The butterfly-room was not empty. Miss Rylance was plaiting her long flaxen hair in front of the toilet table, and another girl, a plump little sixteen-year-old, with nut-brown hair, and a fresh complexion96, was advancing and retiring before the cheval, studying the effect of a cherry-coloured neck-ribbon with a gray gown.
‘Cherry’s a lovely colour in the abstract,’ said this damsel, ‘but it reminds one too dreadfully of barmaids.’
‘Did you ever see a barmaid?’ asked Miss Rylance, languidly, slowly winding97 the long flaxen plait into a shining knob at the back of her head, and contemplating98 her reflection placidly99 with large calm blue eyes which saw no fault in the face they belonged to.
With features so correctly modelled, and a complexion so delicately tinted100, Miss Rylance ought to have been lovely. But she had escaped loveliness by a long way. There was something wanting, and that something was very big.
‘Good gracious, yes; I’ve seen dozens of barmaids,’ answered Bessie Wendover, with her frank voice. ‘Do you suppose I’ve never been into an hotel, or even into a tavern101? When I go for a long drive with papa he generally wants brandy and soda102, and that’s how I get taken into the bar and introduced to the barmaid.’
‘When you say introduced, of course you don’t mean it,’ said Miss Rylance, fastening her brooch. ‘Calling things by their wrong names is your idea of wit.’
‘I would rather have a mistaken idea of wit than none at all,’ retorted Miss Wendover, and then she pirouetted on the tips of her toes, and surveyed her image in the glass from head to foot, with an aggravated103 air. ‘I hope I’m not vulgar-looking, but I’m rather afraid I am,’ she said. ‘What’s the good of belonging to an old Saxon family if one has a thick waist and large hands?’
‘What’s the good of anything at Mauleverer Manor?’ asked Ida, coming into the room, and seating herself on the ground with a dejected air.
Bessie Wendover ran across the room and sat down beside her.
‘So you were in for it again this afternoon, you poor dear thing,’ she murmured, in a cooing voice. ‘I wish I had been there. It would have been “Up, guards, and at ’em!” if I had. I’m sure I should have said something cheeky to old Pew. The idea of overhauling104 your locker! I should just like her to see the inside of mine. It would make her blood run cold.’
‘Ah!’ sighed Ida, ‘she can’t afford to make an example of you. You mean a hundred and fifty pounds a year. I am of no more account in her eyes than an artist’s lay figure, which is put away in a dark closet when it isn’t in use. She wanted to give you girls a lesson in tidiness, so she put me into her pillory105. Fortunately I’m used to the pillory.’
‘But you are looking white and worried, you dear lovely thing,’ exclaimed Bessie, who was Ida Palliser’s bosom106 friend. ‘It’s too bad the way they use you. Have this neck-ribbon,’ suddenly untying107 the bow so carefully elaborated five minutes ago. ‘You must, you shall; I don’t want it; I hate it. Do, dear.’
And for consolation108 Miss Wendover tied the cherry-coloured ribbon under her friend’s collar, patted Ida’s pale cheeks, and kissed and hugged her.
‘Be happy, darling, do,’ she said, in her loving half-childish way, while Miss Rylance looked on with ineffable109 contempt. ‘You are so clever and so beautiful; you were born to be happy.’
‘Do you think so, pet?’ asked Ida, with cold scorn; ‘then I ought to have been born with a little more money.’
‘What does money matter?’ cried Bessie.
‘Not very much to a girl like you, who has never known the want of it.’
‘That’s not true, darling. I never go home for the holidays that I don’t hear father grumble110 about his poverty. The rents are so slow to come in; the tenants3 are always wanting drain-pipes and barns and things. Last Christmas his howls were awful. We are positive paupers111. Mother has to wait ages for a cheque.’
‘Ah, my pet, that’s a very different kind of poverty from mine. You have never known what it is to have only three pairs of wearable stockings.’
Bessie looked as if she were going to cry.
‘If you were not so disgustingly proud, you horrid112 thing, you need never feel the want of stockings,’ she said discontentedly.
‘If it were not for what you call my disgusting pride, I should degenerate into that loathsome113 animal a sponge,’ said Ida, rising suddenly from her dejected attitude, and standing up before her admiring little friend,
‘A daughter of the gods, divinely tall And most divinely fair.’
That fatal dower of beauty had been given to Ida Palliser in fullest measure. She had the form of a goddess, a head proudly set upon shoulders that were sloping but not narrow, the walk of a Moorish114 girl, accustomed to carrying a water-jug on her head, eyes dark as night, hair of a deep warm brown rippling115 naturally across her broad forehead, a complexion of creamiest white and richest carnation28. These were but the sensual parts of beauty which can be catalogued. But it was in the glorious light and variety of expression that Ida shone above all compeers. It was by the intellectual part of her beauty that she commanded the admiration — enthusiastic in some cases, in others grudging116 and unwilling117 — of her schoolfellows, and reigned118 by right divine, despite her shabby gowns and her cheap ready-made boots, the belle119 of the school.
收听单词发音 |
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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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lieutenants
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| n.陆军中尉( lieutenant的名词复数 )；副职官员；空军；仅低于…官阶的官员 | |
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tenants
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| n.房客( tenant的名词复数 )；佃户；占用者；占有者 | |
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faltered
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| （嗓音）颤抖( falter的过去式和过去分词 )； 支吾其词； 蹒跚； 摇晃 | |
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stentorian
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| adj.大声的，响亮的 | |
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irises
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| n.虹( iris的名词复数 )；虹膜；虹彩；鸢尾（花） | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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resounded
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| v.（指声音等）回荡于某处( resound的过去式和过去分词 )；产生回响；（指某处）回荡着声音 | |
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countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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manor
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| n.庄园，领地 | |
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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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absolved
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| 宣告…无罪，赦免…的罪行，宽恕…的罪行( absolve的过去式和过去分词 )； 不受责难，免除责任 [义务] ,开脱（罪责） | |
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fortified
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| adj. 加强的 | |
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neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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peculiar
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| adj.古怪的，异常的；特殊的，特有的 | |
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degenerate
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| v.退步，堕落；adj.退步的，堕落的；n.堕落者 | |
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hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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exhausted
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| adj.极其疲惫的，精疲力尽的 | |
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draughts
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| n. <英>国际跳棋 | |
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ruffle
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| v.弄皱，弄乱；激怒，扰乱；n.褶裥饰边 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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ascend
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| vi.渐渐上升，升高；vt.攀登，登上 | |
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primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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instilled
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| v.逐渐使某人获得（某种可取的品质），逐步灌输( instill的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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carnation
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| n.康乃馨（一种花） | |
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defiance
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| n.挑战，挑衅，蔑视，违抗 | |
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drudge
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| n.劳碌的人；v.做苦工，操劳 | |
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toadied
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| v.拍马，谄媚( toady的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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expatiating
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| v.详述，细说( expatiate的现在分词 ) | |
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36
locker
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| n.更衣箱，储物柜，冷藏室，上锁的人 | |
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37
rusty
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| adj.生锈的；锈色的；荒废了的 | |
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38
cuff
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| n.袖口；手铐；护腕；vt.用手铐铐；上袖口 | |
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39
sketches
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| n.草图( sketch的名词复数 )；素描；速写；梗概 | |
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40
guise
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| n.外表，伪装的姿态 | |
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41
anticipation
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| n.预期，预料，期望 | |
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42
insolence
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| n.傲慢；无礼；厚颜；傲慢的态度 | |
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43
crumpled
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| adj. 弯扭的, 变皱的 动词crumple的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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44
ripple
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| n.涟波，涟漪，波纹，粗钢梳；vt.使...起涟漪，使起波纹； vi.呈波浪状，起伏前进 | |
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45
resolute
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| adj.坚决的，果敢的 | |
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46
testament
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| n.遗嘱；证明 | |
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47
margins
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| 边( margin的名词复数 )； 利润； 页边空白； 差数 | |
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48
shamefully
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| 可耻地； 丢脸地； 不体面地； 羞耻地 | |
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49
scribbled
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| v.潦草的书写( scribble的过去式和过去分词 )；乱画；草草地写；匆匆记下 | |
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50
confiscate
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| v.没收(私人财产)，把…充公 | |
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51
confiscated
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| 没收，充公( confiscate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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52
inhuman
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| adj.残忍的，不人道的，无人性的 | |
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53
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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54
passionately
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| ad.热烈地，激烈地 | |
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55
gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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56
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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57
anomalous
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| adj.反常的；不规则的 | |
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58
lucrative
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| adj.赚钱的，可获利的 | |
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59
lavatory
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| n.盥洗室，厕所 | |
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60
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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61
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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62
resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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63
knack
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| n.诀窍，做事情的灵巧的，便利的方法 | |
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64
thereby
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| adv.因此，从而 | |
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65
trifling
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| adj.微不足道的；没什么价值的 | |
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66
fortitude
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| n.坚忍不拔；刚毅 | |
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67
braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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68
portfolio
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| n.公事包；文件夹；大臣及部长职位 | |
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69
mischievous
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| adj.调皮的，恶作剧的，有害的，伤人的 | |
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70
bleak
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| adj.(天气)阴冷的；凄凉的；暗淡的 | |
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specially
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| adv.特定地；特殊地；明确地 | |
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72
sleepers
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| n.卧铺（通常以复数形式出现）；卧车( sleeper的名词复数 )；轨枕；睡觉（呈某种状态）的人；小耳环 | |
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73
rambling
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| adj.[建]凌乱的，杂乱的 | |
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74
peculiarities
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| n. 特质, 特性, 怪癖, 古怪 | |
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75
unimpeachable
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| adj.无可指责的；adv.无可怀疑地 | |
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76
benevolently
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| adv.仁慈地，行善地 | |
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77
gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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78
inane
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| adj.空虚的，愚蠢的，空洞的 | |
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evaded
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| 逃避( evade的过去式和过去分词 )； 避开； 回避； 想不出 | |
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80
disdain
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| n.鄙视，轻视；v.轻视，鄙视，不屑 | |
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81
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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82
herded
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| 群集，纠结( herd的过去式和过去分词 )； 放牧； （使）向…移动 | |
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83
mansion
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| n.大厦，大楼；宅第 | |
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84
rabble
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| n.乌合之众，暴民；下等人 | |
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85
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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86
gaudy
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| adj.华而不实的；俗丽的 | |
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87
disported
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| v.嬉戏，玩乐，自娱( disport的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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88
strictly
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| adv.严厉地，严格地；严密地 | |
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89
willows
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| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
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90
purely
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| adv.纯粹地，完全地 | |
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91
spire
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| n.(教堂)尖顶，尖塔，高点 | |
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92
rococo
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| n.洛可可；adj.过分修饰的 | |
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93
bonnets
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| n.童帽( bonnet的名词复数 )；（烟囱等的）覆盖物；（苏格兰男子的）无边呢帽；（女子戴的）任何一种帽子 | |
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94
amenities
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| n.令人愉快的事物；礼仪；礼节；便利设施；礼仪( amenity的名词复数 )；便利设施；（环境等的）舒适；（性情等的）愉快 | |
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95
scrutinize
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| n.详细检查，细读 | |
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96
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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97
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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98
contemplating
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| 深思，细想，仔细考虑( contemplate的现在分词 )； 注视，凝视； 考虑接受（发生某事的可能性）； 深思熟虑，沉思，苦思冥想 | |
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99
placidly
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| adv.平稳地，平静地 | |
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100
tinted
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| adj. 带色彩的 动词tint的过去式和过去分词 | |
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101
tavern
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| n.小旅馆，客栈；小酒店 | |
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102
soda
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| n.苏打水；汽水 | |
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103
aggravated
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| 使恶化( aggravate的过去式和过去分词 )； 使更严重； 激怒； 使恼火 | |
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104
overhauling
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| n.大修；拆修；卸修；翻修v.彻底检查( overhaul的现在分词 )；大修；赶上；超越 | |
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105
pillory
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| n.嘲弄；v.使受公众嘲笑；将…示众 | |
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106
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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107
untying
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| untie的现在分词 | |
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108
consolation
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| n.安慰，慰问 | |
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109
ineffable
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| adj.无法表达的，不可言喻的 | |
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110
grumble
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| vi.抱怨；咕哝；n.抱怨，牢骚；咕哝，隆隆声 | |
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111
paupers
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| n.穷人( pauper的名词复数 )；贫民；贫穷 | |
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112
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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113
loathsome
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| adj.讨厌的，令人厌恶的 | |
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114
moorish
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| adj.沼地的，荒野的，生[住]在沼地的 | |
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115
rippling
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| 起涟漪的，潺潺流水般声音的 | |
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116
grudging
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| adj.勉强的，吝啬的 | |
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117
unwilling
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| adj.不情愿的 | |
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118
reigned
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| vi.当政，统治（reign的过去式形式） | |
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119
belle
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| n.靓女 | |
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