How cruelly hasty that summer of 1788 seemed to Caterina! Surely the roses vanished earlier, and the berries on the mountain-ash were more impatient to redden, and bring on the autumn, when she would be face to face with her misery7, and witness Anthony giving all his gentle tones, tender words, and soft looks to another.
Before the end of July, Captain Wybrow had written word that Lady Assher and her daughter were about to fly from the heat and gaiety of Bath to the shady quiet of their place at Farleigh, and that he was invited to join the party there. His letters implied that he was on an excellent footing with both the ladies, and gave no hint of a rival; so that Sir Christopher was more than usually bright and cheerful after reading them. At length, towards the close of August, came the announcement that Captain Wybrow was an accepted lover, and after much complimentary8 and congratulatory correspondence between the two families, it was understood that in September Lady Assher and her daughter would pay a visit to Cheverel Manor9, when Beatrice would make the acquaintance of her future relatives, and all needful arrangements could be discussed. Captain Wybrow would remain at Farleigh till then, and accompany the ladies on their journey.
In the interval10, every one at Cheverel Manor had something to do by way of preparing for the visitors. Sir Christopher was occupied in consultations11 with his steward12 and lawyer, and in giving orders to every one else, especially in spurring on Francesco to finish the saloon. Mr. Gilfil had the responsibility of procuring13 a lady’s horse, Miss Assher being a great rider. Lady Cheverel had unwonted calls to make and invitations to deliver. Mr. Bates’s turf, and gravel14, and flower-beds were always at such a point of neatness and finish that nothing extraordinary could be done in the garden, except a little extraordinary scolding of the under-gardener, and this addition Mr. Bates did not neglect.
Happily for Caterina, she too had her task, to fill up the long dreary15 daytime: it was to finish a chair-cushion which would complete the set of embroidered16 covers for the drawing-room, Lady Cheverel’s year-long work, and the only noteworthy bit of furniture in the Manor. Over this embroidery17 she sat with cold lips and a palpitating heart, thankful that this miserable18 sensation throughout the daytime seemed to counteract19 the tendency to tears which returned with night and solitude20. She was most frightened when Sir Christopher approached her. The Baronet’s eye was brighter and his step more elastic21 than ever, and it seemed to him that only the most leaden or churlish souls could be otherwise than brisk and exulting22 in a world where everything went so well. Dear old gentleman! he had gone through life a little flushed with the power of his will, and now his latest plan was succeeding, and Cheverel Manor would be inherited by a grand-nephew, whom he might even yet live to see a fine young fellow with at least the down on his chin. Why not? one is still young at sixty.
Sir Christopher had always something playful to say to Caterina.
‘Now, little monkey, you must be in your best voice: you’re the minstrel of the Manor, you know, and be sure you have a pretty gown and a new ribbon. You must not be dressed in russet, though you are a singing-bird.’ Or perhaps, ‘It is your turn to be courted next, Tina. But don’t you learn any naughty proud airs. I must have Maynard let off easily.’
Caterina’s affection for the old Baronet helped her to summon up a smile as he stroked her cheek and looked at her kindly23, but that was the moment at which she felt it most difficult not to burst out crying. Lady Cheverel’s conversation and presence were less trying; for her ladyship felt no more than calm satisfaction in this family event; and besides, she was further sobered by a little jealousy24 at Sir Christopher’s anticipation25 of pleasure in seeing Lady Assher, enshrined in his memory as a mild-eyed beauty of sixteen, with whom he had exchanged locks before he went on his first travels. Lady Cheverel would have died rather than confess it, but she couldn’t help hoping that he would be disappointed in Lady Assher, and rather ashamed of having called her so charming.
Mr. Gilfil watched Caterina through these days with mixed feelings. Her suffering went to his heart; but, even for her sake, he was glad that a love which could never come to good should be no longer fed by false hopes; and how could he help saying to himself, ‘Perhaps, after a while, Caterina will be tired of fretting26 about that cold-hearted puppy, and then . . .’
At length the much-expected day arrived, and the brightest of September suns was lighting27 up the yellowing lime-trees, as about five o’clock Lady Assher’s carriage drove under the portico28. Caterina, seated at work in her own room, heard the rolling of the wheels, followed presently by the opening and shutting of doors, and the sound of voices in the corridors. Remembering that the dinner-hour was six, and that Lady Cheverel had desired her to be in the drawing-room early, she started up to dress, and was delighted to find herself feeling suddenly brave and strong. Curiosity to see Miss Assher—the thought that Anthony was in the house—the wish not to look unattractive, were feelings that brought some colour to her lips, and made it easy to attend to her toilette. They would ask her to sing this evening, and she would sing well. Miss Assher should not think her utterly29 insignificant30. So she put on her grey silk gown and her cherry coloured ribbon with as much care as if she had been herself the betrothed31; not forgetting the pair of round pearl earrings32 which Sir Christopher had told Lady Cheverel to give her, because Tina’s little ears were so pretty.
Quick as she had been, she found Sir Christopher and Lady Cheverel in the drawing-room chatting with Mr. Gilfil, and telling him how handsome Miss Assher was, but how entirely33 unlike her mother—apparently resembling her father only.
‘Aha!’ said Sir Christopher, as he turned to look at Caterina, ‘what do you think of this, Maynard? Did you ever see Tina look so pretty before? Why, that little grey gown has been made out of a bit of my lady’s, hasn’t it? It doesn’t take anything much larger than a pocket-handkerchief to dress the little monkey.’
Lady Cheverel, too, serenely34 radiant in the assurance a single glance had given her of Lady Assher’s inferiority, smiled approval, and Caterina was in one of those moods of self possession and indifference35 which come as the ebb-tide between the struggles of passion. She retired36 to the piano, and busied herself with arranging her music, not at all insensible to the pleasure of being looked at with admiration37 the while, and thinking that, the next time the door opened, Captain Wybrow would enter, and she would speak to him quite cheerfully. But when she heard him come in, and the scent38 of roses floated towards her, her heart gave one great leap. She knew nothing till he was pressing her hand, and saying, in the old easy way, ‘Well, Caterina, how do you do? You look quite blooming.’
She felt her cheeks reddening with anger that he could speak and look with such perfect nonchalance39. Ah! he was too deeply in love with some one else to remember anything he had felt for her. But the next moment she was conscious of her folly40;—‘as if he could show any feeling then!’ This conflict of emotions stretched into a long interval the few moments that elapsed before the door opened again, and her own attention, as well as that of all the rest, was absorbed by the entrance of the two ladies.
The daughter was the more striking, from the contrast she presented to her mother, a round-shouldered, middle-sized woman, who had once had the transient pink-and-white beauty of a blonde, with ill-defined features and early embonpoint. Miss Assher was tall, and gracefully42 though substantially formed, carrying herself with an air of mingled43 graciousness and self-confidence; her dark-brown hair, untouched by powder, hanging in bushy curls round her face, and falling in long thick ringlets nearly to her waist. The brilliant carmine44 tint45 of her well-rounded cheeks, and the finely-cut outline of her straight nose, produced an impression of splendid beauty, in spite of commonplace brown eyes, a narrow forehead, and thin lips. She was in mourning, and the dead black of her crape dress, relieved here and there by jet ornaments46, gave the fullest effect to her complexion47, and to the rounded whiteness of her arms, bare from the elbow. The first coup48 d’œil was dazzling, and as she stood looking down with a gracious smile on Caterina, whom Lady Cheverel was presenting to her, the poor little thing seemed to herself to feel, for the first time, all the folly of her former dream.
‘We are enchanted49 with your place, Sir Christopher,’ said Lady Assher, with a feeble kind of pompousness50, which she seemed to be copying from some one else: ‘I’m sure your nephew must have thought Farleigh wretchedly out of order. Poor Sir John was so very careless about keeping up the house and grounds. I often talked to him about it, but he said, “Pooh pooh! as long as my friends find a good dinner and a good bottle of wine, they won’t care about my ceilings being rather smoky.” He was so very hospitable51, was Sir John.’
‘I think the view of the house from the park, just after we passed the bridge, particularly fine,’ said Miss Assher, interposing rather eagerly, as if she feared her mother might be making infelicitous52 speeches, ‘and the pleasure of the first glimpse was all the greater because Anthony would describe nothing to us beforehand. He would not spoil our first impressions by raising false ideas. I long to go over the house, Sir Christopher, and learn the history of all your architectural designs, which Anthony says have cost you so much time and study.’
‘Take care how you set an old man talking about the past, my dear,’ said the Baronet; ‘I hope we shall find something pleasanter for you to do than turning over my old plans and pictures. Our friend Mr. Gilfil here has found a beautiful mare53 for you and you can scour54 the country to your heart’s content. Anthony has sent us word what a horsewoman you are.’
Miss Assher turned to Mr. Gilfil with her most beaming smile, and expressed her thanks with the elaborate graciousness of a person who means to be thought charming, and is sure of success.
‘Pray do not thank me,’ said Mr. Gilfil, ‘till you have tried the mare. She has been ridden by Lady Sara Linter for the last two years; but one lady’s taste may not be like another’s in horses, any more than in other matters.’
While this conversation was passing, Captain Wybrow was leaning against the mantelpiece, contenting himself with responding from under his indolent eyelids55 to the glances Miss Assher was constantly directing towards him as she spoke56. ‘She is very much in love with him,’ thought Caterina. But she was relieved that Anthony remained passive in his attentions. She thought, too, that he was looking paler and more languid than usual. ‘If he didn’t love her very much—if he sometimes thought of the past with regret, I think I could bear it all, and be glad to see Sir Christopher made happy.’
During dinner there was a little incident which confirmed these thoughts. When the sweets were on the table, there was a mould of jelly just opposite Captain Wybrow, and being inclined to take some himself, he first invited Miss Assher, who coloured, and said, in rather a sharper key than usual, ‘Have you not learned by this time that I never take jelly?’
‘Don’t you?’ said Captain Wybrow, whose perceptions were not acute enough for him to notice the difference of a semitone. ‘I should have thought you were fond of it. There was always some on the table at Farleigh, I think.’
‘You don’t seem to take much interest in my likes and dislikes.’
‘I’m too much possessed57 by the happy thought that you like me,’ was the ex officio reply, in silvery tones.
This little episode was unnoticed by every one but Caterina. Sir Christopher was listening with polite attention to Lady Assher’s history of her last man-cook, who was first-rate at gravies58, and for that reason pleased Sir John—he was so particular about his gravies, was Sir John: and so they kept the man six years in spite of his bad pastry59. Lady Cheverel and Mr. Gilfil were smiling at Rupert the bloodhound, who had pushed his great head under his master’s arm, and was taking a survey of the dishes, after snuffing at the contents of the Baronet’s plate.
When the ladies were in the drawing-room again, Lady Assher was soon deep in a statement to Lady Cheverel of her views about burying people in woollen.
‘To be sure, you must have a woollen dress, because it’s the law, you know; but that need hinder no one from putting linen60 underneath61. I always used to say, “If Sir John died to-morrow, I would bury him in his shirt;” and I did. And let me advise you to do so by Sir Christopher. You never saw Sir John, Lady Cheverel. He was a large tall man, with a nose just like Beatrice, and so very particular about his shirts.’
Miss Assher, meanwhile, had seated herself by Caterina, and, with that smiling affability which seems to say, ‘I am really not at all proud, though you might expect it of me,’ said,—‘Anthony tells me you sing so very beautifully. I hope we shall hear you this evening.’
‘O yes,’ said Caterina, quietly, without smiling; ‘I always sing when I am wanted to sing.’
‘I envy you such a charming talent. Do you know, I have no ear; I cannot hum the smallest tune62, and I delight in music so. Is it not unfortunate? But I shall have quite a treat while I am here; Captain Wybrow says you will give us some music every day.’
‘I should have thought you wouldn’t care about music if you had no ear,’ said Caterina, becoming epigrammatic by force of grave simplicity63.
‘O, I assure you, I doat on it; and Anthony is so fond of it; it would be so delightful64 if I could play and sing to him; though he says he likes me best not to sing, because it doesn’t belong to his idea of me. What style of music do you like best?’
‘I don’t know. I like all beautiful music.’
‘And are you as fond of riding as of music?’
‘No; I never ride. I think I should be very frightened.’
‘O no! indeed you would not, after a little practice. I have never been in the least timid. I think Anthony is more afraid for me than I am for myself; and since I have been riding with him, I have been obliged to be more careful, because he is so nervous about me.’
Caterina made no reply; but she said to herself, ‘I wish she would go away and not talk to me. She only wants me to admire her good-nature, and to talk about Anthony.’
Miss Assher was thinking at the same time, ‘This Miss Sarti seems a stupid little thing. Those musical people often are. But she is prettier than I expected; Anthony said she was not pretty.’
Happily at this moment Lady Assher called her daughter’s attention to the embroidered cushions, and Miss Assher, walking to the opposite sofa, was soon in conversation with Lady Cheverel about tapestry65 and embroidery in general, while her mother, feeling herself superseded66 there, came and placed herself beside Caterina.
‘I hear you are the most beautiful singer,’ was of course the opening remark. ‘All Italians sing so beautifully. I travelled in Italy with Sir John when we were first married, and we went to Venice, where they go about in gondolas67, you know. You don’t wear powder, I see. No more will Beatrice; though many people think her curls would look all the better for powder. She has so much hair, hasn’t she? Our last maid dressed it much better than this; but, do you know, she wore Beatrice’s stockings before they went to the wash, and we couldn’t keep her after that, could we?’
Caterina, accepting the question as a mere68 bit of rhetorical effect, thought it superfluous69 to reply, till Lady Assher repeated, ‘Could we, now?’ as if Tina’s sanction were essential to her repose70 of mind. After a faint ‘No’, she went on.
‘Maids are so very troublesome, and Beatrice is so particular, you can’t imagine. I often say to her, “My dear, you can’t have perfection.” That very gown she has on—to be sure, it fits her beautifully now—but it has been unmade and made up again twice. But she is like poor Sir John—he was so very particular about his own things, was Sir John. Is Lady Cheverel particular?’
‘Rather. But Mrs. Sharp has been her maid twenty years.’
‘I wish there was any chance of our keeping Griffin twenty years. But I am afraid we shall have to part with her because her health is so delicate; and she is so obstinate71, she will not take bitters as I want her. You look delicate, now. Let me recommend you to take camomile tea in a morning, fasting. Beatrice is so strong and healthy, she never takes any medicine; but if I had had twenty girls, and they had been delicate, I should have given them all camomile tea. It strengthens the constitution beyond anything. Now, will you promise me to take camomile tea?’
‘Thank you: I’m not at all ill,’ said Caterina. ‘I’ve always been pale and thin.’
Lady Assher was sure camomile tea would make all the difference in the world—Caterina must see if it wouldn’t—and then went dribbling72 on like a leaky shower-bath, until the early entrance of the gentlemen created a diversion, and she fastened on Sir Christopher, who probably began to think that, for poetical73 purposes, it would be better not to meet one’s first love again, after a lapse41 of forty years.
Captain Wybrow, of course, joined his aunt and Miss Assher, and Mr. Gilfil tried to relieve Caterina from the awkwardness of sitting aloof74 and dumb, by telling her how a friend of his had broken his arm and staked his horse that morning, not at all appearing to heed75 that she hardly listened, and was looking towards the other side of the room. One of the tortures of jealousy is, that it can never turn its eyes away from the thing that pains it.
By-and-by every one felt the need of a relief from chit-chat—Sir Christopher perhaps the most of all—and it was he who made the acceptable proposition—
‘Come, Tina, are we to have no music to-night before we sit down to cards? Your ladyship plays at cards, I think?’ he added, recollecting76 himself, and turning to Lady Assher.
‘O yes! Poor dear Sir John would have a whist-table every night.’
Caterina sat down to the harpsichord77 at once, and had no sooner begun to sing than she perceived with delight that Captain Wybrow was gliding78 towards the harpsichord, and soon standing79 in the old place. This consciousness gave fresh strength to her voice; and when she noticed that Miss Assher presently followed him with that air of ostentatious admiration which belongs to the absence of real enjoyment80, her closing bravura81 was none the worse for being animated82 by a little triumphant83 contempt.
‘Why, you are in better voice than ever, Caterina,’ said Captain Wybrow, when she had ended. ‘This is rather different from Miss Hibbert’s small piping that we used to be glad of at Farleigh, is it not, Beatrice?’
‘Indeed it is. You are a most enviable creature, Miss Sarti—Caterina—may I not call you Caterina? for I have heard Anthony speak of you so often, I seem to know you quite well. You will let me call you Caterina?’
‘O yes, every one calls me Caterina, only when they call me Tina.’
‘Come, come, more singing, more singing, little monkey,’ Sir Christopher called out from the other side of the room. ‘We have not had half enough yet.’
Caterina was ready enough to obey, for while she was singing she was queen of the room, and Miss Assher was reduced to grimacing84 admiration. Alas85! you see what jealousy was doing in this poor young soul. Caterina, who had passed her life as a little unobtrusive singing-bird, nestling so fondly under the wings that were outstretched for her, her heart beating only to the peaceful rhythm of love, or fluttering with some easily stifled86 fear, had begun to know the fierce palpitations of triumph and hatred87.
When the singing was over, Sir Christopher and Lady Cheverel sat down to whist with Lady Assher and Mr. Gilfil, and Caterina placed herself at the Baronet’s elbow, as if to watch the game, that she might not appear to thrust herself on the pair of lovers. At first she was glowing with her little triumph, and felt the strength of pride; but her eye would steal to the opposite side of the fireplace, where Captain Wybrow had seated himself close to Miss Assher, and was leaning with his arm over the back of the chair, in the most lover-like position. Caterina began to feel a choking sensation. She could see, almost without looking, that he was taking up her arm to examine her bracelet88; their heads were bending close together, her curls touching89 his cheek—now he was putting his lips to her hand. Caterina felt her cheeks burn—she could sit no longer. She got up, pretended to be gliding about in search of something, and at length slipped out of the room.
Outside, she took a candle, and, hurrying along the passages and up the stairs to her own room, locked the door.
‘O, I cannot bear it, I cannot bear it!’ the poor thing burst out aloud, clasping her little fingers, and pressing them back against her forehead, as if she wanted to break them.
Then she walked hurriedly up and down the room.
‘And this must go on for days and days, and I must see it.’
She looked about nervously90 for something to clutch. There was a muslin kerchief lying on the table; she took it up and tore it into shreds91 as she walked up and down, and then pressed it into hard balls in her hand.
‘And Anthony,’ she thought, ‘he can do this without caring for what I feel. O, he can forget everything: how he used to say he loved me—how he used to take my hand in his as we walked—how he used to stand near me in the evenings for the sake of looking into my eyes.’
‘Oh, it is cruel, it is cruel!’ she burst out again aloud, as all those love-moments in the past returned upon her. Then the tears gushed92 forth93, she threw herself on her knees by the bed, and sobbed94 bitterly.
She did not know how long she had been there, till she was startled by the prayer-bell; when, thinking Lady Cheverel might perhaps send some one to inquire after her, she rose, and began hastily to undress, that there might be no possibility of her going down again. She had hardly unfastened her hair, and thrown a loose gown about her, before there was a knock at the door, and Mrs. Sharp’s voice said—‘Miss Tina, my lady wants to know if you’re ill.’
Caterina opened the door and said, ‘Thank you, dear Mrs. Sharp; I have a bad headache; please tell my lady I felt it come on after singing.’
‘Then, goodness me! why aren’t you in bed, istid o’ standing shivering there, fit to catch your death? Come, let me fasten up your hair and tuck you up warm.’
‘O no, thank you; I shall really be in bed very soon. Good-night, dear Sharpy; don’t scold; I will be good, and get into bed.’
Caterina kissed her old friend coaxingly95, but Mrs. Sharp was not to be ‘come over’ in that way, and insisted on seeing her former charge in bed, taking away the candle which the poor child had wanted to keep as a companion. But it was impossible to lie there long with that beating heart; and the little white figure was soon out of bed again, seeking relief in the very sense of chill and uncomfort. It was light enough for her to see about her room, for the moon, nearly at full, was riding high in the heavens among scattered96 hurrying clouds. Caterina drew aside the window-curtain; and, sitting with her forehead pressed against the cold pane97, looked out on the wide stretch of park and lawn.
How dreary the moonlight is! robbed of all its tenderness and repose by the hard driving wind. The trees are harassed98 by that tossing motion, when they would like to be at rest; the shivering grass makes her quake with sympathetic cold; and the willows99 by the pool, bent100 low and white under that invisible harshness, seem agitated101 and helpless like herself. But she loves the scene the better for its sadness: there is some pity in it. It is not like that hard unfeeling happiness of lovers, flaunting102 in the eyes of misery.
She set her teeth tight against the window-frame, and the tears fell thick and fast. She was so thankful she could cry, for the mad passion she had felt when her eyes were dry frightened her. If that dreadful feeling were to come on when Lady Cheverel was present, she should never be able to contain herself.
Then there was Sir Christopher—so good to her—so happy about Anthony’s marriage; and all the while she had these wicked feelings.
‘O, I cannot help it, I cannot help it!’ she said in a loud whisper between her sobs103. ‘O God, have pity upon me!’
In this way Tina wore out the long hours of the windy moonlight, till at last, with weary aching limbs, she lay down in bed again, and slept from mere exhaustion104.
While this poor little heart was being bruised105 with a weight too heavy for it, Nature was holding on her calm inexorable way, in unmoved and terrible beauty. The stars were rushing in their eternal courses; the tides swelled106 to the level of the last expectant weed; the sun was making brilliant day to busy nations on the other side of the swift earth. The stream of human thought and deed was hurrying and broadening onward107. The astronomer108 was at his telescope; the great ships were labouring over the waves; the toiling109 eagerness of commerce, the fierce spirit of revolution, were only ebbing110 in brief rest; and sleepless111 statesmen were dreading112 the possible crisis of the morrow. What were our little Tina and her trouble in this mighty113 torrent114, rushing from one awful unknown to another? Lighter115 than the smallest centre of quivering life in the waterdrop, hidden and uncared for as the pulse of anguish in the breast of the tiniest bird that has fluttered down to its nest with the long-sought food, and has found the nest torn and empty.
该作者的其它作品
《弗洛斯河上的磨坊 The Mill on the Floss》
《米德尔马契 Middlemarch》
该作者的其它作品
《弗洛斯河上的磨坊 The Mill on the Floss》
《米德尔马契 Middlemarch》
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throb
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| v.震颤，颤动；(急速强烈地)跳动，搏动 | |
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tinged
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| v.（使）发丁丁声( ting的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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reapers
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| n.收割者，收获者( reaper的名词复数 )；收割机 | |
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streaks
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| n.（与周围有所不同的）条纹( streak的名词复数 )；（通常指不好的）特征（倾向）；（不断经历成功或失败的）一段时期v.快速移动( streak的第三人称单数 )；使布满条纹 | |
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anguish
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| n.(尤指心灵上的)极度痛苦，烦恼 | |
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dread
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| vt.担忧，忧虑；惧怕，不敢；n.担忧，畏惧 | |
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misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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complimentary
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| adj.赠送的，免费的，赞美的，恭维的 | |
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manor
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| n.庄园，领地 | |
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interval
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| n.间隔，间距；幕间休息，中场休息 | |
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consultations
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| n.磋商（会议）( consultation的名词复数 )；商讨会；协商会；查找 | |
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steward
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| n.乘务员，服务员；看管人；膳食管理员 | |
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procuring
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的现在分词 )；拉皮条 | |
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gravel
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| n.砂跞；砂砾层；结石 | |
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dreary
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| adj.令人沮丧的，沉闷的，单调乏味的 | |
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embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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embroidery
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| n.绣花，刺绣；绣制品 | |
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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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counteract
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| vt.对…起反作用，对抗，抵消 | |
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solitude
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| n. 孤独; 独居,荒僻之地,幽静的地方 | |
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elastic
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| n.橡皮圈，松紧带；adj.有弹性的；灵活的 | |
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exulting
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| vi. 欢欣鼓舞，狂喜 | |
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kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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jealousy
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anticipation
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fretting
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| n. 微振磨损 adj. 烦躁的, 焦虑的 | |
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27
lighting
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| n.照明，光线的明暗，舞台灯光 | |
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28
portico
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| n.柱廊，门廊 | |
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29
utterly
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| adv.完全地，绝对地 | |
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30
insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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31
betrothed
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| n. 已订婚者 动词betroth的过去式和过去分词 | |
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32
earrings
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| n.耳环( earring的名词复数 )；耳坠子 | |
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33
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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34
serenely
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| adv.安详地，宁静地，平静地 | |
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35
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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36
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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37
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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38
scent
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| n.气味，香味，香水，线索，嗅觉；v.嗅，发觉 | |
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39
nonchalance
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| n.冷淡，漠不关心 | |
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40
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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41
lapse
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| n.过失，流逝，失效，抛弃信仰，间隔；vi.堕落，停止，失效，流逝；vt.使失效 | |
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42
gracefully
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| ad.大大方方地；优美地 | |
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43
mingled
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| 混合，混入( mingle的过去式和过去分词 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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44
carmine
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| n.深红色，洋红色 | |
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45
tint
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| n.淡色，浅色；染发剂；vt.着以淡淡的颜色 | |
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46
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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47
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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48
coup
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| n.政变；突然而成功的行动 | |
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49
enchanted
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| adj. 被施魔法的，陶醉的，入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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50
pompousness
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| 豪华；傲慢 | |
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51
hospitable
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| adj.好客的；宽容的；有利的，适宜的 | |
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52
infelicitous
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| adj.不适当的 | |
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53
mare
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| n.母马，母驴 | |
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54
scour
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| v.搜索；擦，洗，腹泻，冲刷 | |
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55
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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56
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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57
possessed
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| adj.疯狂的；拥有的，占有的 | |
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58
gravies
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| n.肉汁( gravy的名词复数 )；肉卤；意外之财；飞来福 | |
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59
pastry
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| n.油酥面团，酥皮糕点 | |
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60
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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61
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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62
tune
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| n.调子；和谐，协调；v.调音，调节，调整 | |
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63
simplicity
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| n.简单，简易；朴素；直率，单纯 | |
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64
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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65
tapestry
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| n.挂毯，丰富多采的画面 | |
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66
superseded
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| [医]被代替的，废弃的 | |
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67
gondolas
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| n.狭长小船( gondola的名词复数 )；货架（一般指商店，例如化妆品店）；吊船工作台 | |
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68
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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69
superfluous
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| adj.过多的，过剩的，多余的 | |
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70
repose
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| v.(使)休息；n.安息 | |
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71
obstinate
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| adj.顽固的，倔强的，不易屈服的，较难治愈的 | |
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72
dribbling
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| n.（燃料或油从系统内）漏泄v.流口水( dribble的现在分词 )；（使液体）滴下或作细流；运球，带球 | |
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73
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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74
aloof
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| adj.远离的；冷淡的，漠不关心的 | |
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75
heed
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| v.注意，留意；n.注意，留心 | |
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76
recollecting
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| v.记起，想起( recollect的现在分词 ) | |
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77
harpsichord
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| n.键琴（钢琴前身） | |
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78
gliding
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| v. 滑翔 adj. 滑动的 | |
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79
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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80
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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81
bravura
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| n.华美的乐曲；勇敢大胆的表现；adj.壮勇华丽的 | |
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82
animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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83
triumphant
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| adj.胜利的，成功的；狂欢的，喜悦的 | |
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84
grimacing
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| v.扮鬼相，做鬼脸( grimace的现在分词 ) | |
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85
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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86
stifled
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| （使）窒息， （使）窒闷( stifle的过去式和过去分词 )； 镇压，遏制； 堵 | |
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87
hatred
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| n.憎恶，憎恨，仇恨 | |
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88
bracelet
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| n.手镯，臂镯 | |
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89
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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90
nervously
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| adv.神情激动地，不安地 | |
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91
shreds
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| v.撕碎，切碎( shred的第三人称单数 )；用撕毁机撕毁（文件） | |
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92
gushed
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| v.喷，涌( gush的过去式和过去分词 )；滔滔不绝地说话 | |
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93
forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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94
sobbed
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| 哭泣，啜泣( sob的过去式和过去分词 )； 哭诉，呜咽地说 | |
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95
coaxingly
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| adv. 以巧言诱哄，以甘言哄骗 | |
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96
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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97
pane
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| n.窗格玻璃，长方块 | |
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98
harassed
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| adj. 疲倦的，厌烦的 动词harass的过去式和过去分词 | |
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99
willows
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| n.柳树( willow的名词复数 )；柳木 | |
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100
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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101
agitated
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| adj.被鼓动的，不安的 | |
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102
flaunting
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| adj.招摇的，扬扬得意的，夸耀的v.炫耀，夸耀( flaunt的现在分词 )；有什么能耐就施展出来 | |
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103
sobs
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| 啜泣（声），呜咽（声）( sob的名词复数 ) | |
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104
exhaustion
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| n.耗尽枯竭，疲惫，筋疲力尽，竭尽，详尽无遗的论述 | |
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105
bruised
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| [医]青肿的，瘀紫的 | |
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106
swelled
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| 增强( swell的过去式和过去分词 )； 肿胀； （使）凸出； 充满（激情） | |
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107
onward
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| adj.向前的，前进的；adv.向前，前进，在先 | |
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108
astronomer
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| n.天文学家 | |
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109
toiling
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| 长时间或辛苦地工作( toil的现在分词 )； 艰难缓慢地移动，跋涉 | |
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110
ebbing
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| （指潮水）退( ebb的现在分词 )； 落； 减少； 衰落 | |
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111
sleepless
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| adj.不睡眠的，睡不著的，不休息的 | |
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112
dreading
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| v.害怕，恐惧，担心( dread的现在分词 ) | |
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113
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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114
torrent
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| n.激流，洪流；爆发，(话语等的)连发 | |
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115
lighter
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| n.打火机，点火器；驳船；v.用驳船运送；light的比较级 | |
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