Little Women - Chapter 46
时间：2020-09-30 07:43:32
（单词翻译:单击）
While Laurie and Amy were taking conjugal1 strolls over velvet2 carpets, as they set their house in order, and planned a blissful future, Mr. Bhaer and Jo were enjoying promenades5 of a different sort, along muddy roads and sodden6 fields.
"I always do take a walk toward evening, and I don't know why I should give it up, just because I happen to meet the Professor on his way out," said Jo to herself, after two or three encounters, for though there were two paths to Meg's whichever one she took she was sure to meet him, either going or returning. He was always walking rapidly, and never seemed to see her until quite close, when he would look as if his short-sighted eyes had failed to recognize the approaching lady till that moment. Then, if she was going to Meg's he always had something for the babies. If her face was turned homeward, he had merely strolled down to see the river, and was just returning, unless they were tired of his frequent calls.
Under the circumstances, what could Jo do but greet him civilly, and invite him in? If she was tired of his visits, she concealed7 her weariness with perfect skill, and took care that there should be coffee for supper, "as Friedrich - I mean Mr. Bhaer - doesn't like tea."
By the second week, everyone knew perfectly8 well what was going on, yet everyone tried to look as if they were stone-blind to the changes in Jo's face. They never asked why she sang about her work, did up her hair three times a day, and got so blooming with her evening exercise. And no one seemed to have the slightest suspicion that Professor Bhaer, while talking philosophy with the father, was giving the daughter lessons in love.
Jo couldn't even lose her heart in a decorous manner, but sternly tried to quench9 her feelings, and failing to do so, led a somewhat agitated10 life. She was mortally afraid of being laughed at for surrendering, after her many and vehement11 declarations of independence. Laurie was her especial dread12, but thanks to the new manager, he behaved with praiseworthy propriety14, never called Mr. Bhaer 'a capital old fellow' in public, never alluded15, in the remotest manner, to Jo's improved appearance, or expressed the least surprise at seeing the Professor's hat on the Marches' table nearly every evening. But he exulted16 in private and longed for the time to come when he could give Jo a piece of plate, with a bear and a ragged17 staff on it as an appropriate coat of arms.
For a fortnight, the Professor came and went with lover-like regularity18. Then he stayed away for three whole days, and made no sign, a proceeding19 which caused everybody to look sober, and Jo to become pensive21, at first, and then - alas22 for romance - very cross.
"Disgusted, I dare say, and gone home as suddenly as he came. It's nothing to me, of course, but I should think he would have come and bid us goodbye like a gentleman," she said to herself, with a despairing look at the gate, as she put on her things for the customary walk one dull afternoon.
"You'd better take the little umbrella, dear. It looks like rain," said her mother, observing that she had on her new bonnet23, but not alluding24 to the fact.
"Yes, Marmee, do you want anything in town? I've got to run in and get some paper," returned Jo, pulling out the bow under her chin before the glass as an excuse for not looking at her mother.
"Yes, I want some twilled silesia, a paper of number nine needles, and two yards of narrow lavender ribbon. Have you got your thick boots on, and something warm under your cloak?"
"I believe so," answered Jo absently.
"If you happen to meet Mr. Bhaer, bring him home to tea. I quite long to see the dear man," added Mrs. March.
Jo heard that, but made no answer, except to kiss her mother, and walk rapidly away, thinking with a glow of gratitude25, in spite of her heartache, "How good she is to me! What do girls do who haven't any mothers to help them through their troubles?"
The dry-goods stores were not down among the counting-houses, banks, and wholesale26 warerooms, where gentlemen most do congregate27, but Jo found herself in that part of the city before she did a single errand, loitering along as if waiting for someone, examining engineering instruments in one window and samples of wool in another, with most unfeminine interest, tumbling over barrels, being half-smothered by descending28 bales, and hustled29 unceremoniously by busy men who looked as if they wondered 'how the deuce she got there'. A drop of rain on her cheek recalled her thoughts from baffled hopes to ruined ribbons. For the drops continued to fall, and being a woman as well as a lover, she felt that, though it was too late to save her heart, she might her bonnet. Now she remembered the little umbrella, which she had forgotten to take in her hurry to be off, but regret was unavailing, and nothing could be done but borrow one or submit to a drenching30. She looked up at the lowering sky, down at the crimson31 bow already flecked with black, forward along the muddy street, then one long, lingering look behind, at a certain grimy warehouse32, with 'Hoffmann, Swartz, & Co.' over the door, and said to herself, with a sternly reproachful air . . .
"It serves me right! what business had I to put on all my best things and come philandering33 down here, hoping to see the Professor? Jo, I'm ashamed of you! No, you shall not go there to borrow an umbrella, or find out where he is, from his friends. You shall trudge34 away, and do your errands in the rain, and if you catch your death and ruin your bonnet, it's no more than you deserve. Now then!"
With that she rushed across the street so impetuously that she narrowly escaped annihilation from a passing truck, and precipitated35 herself into the arms of a stately old gentleman, who said, "I beg pardon, ma'am," and looked mortally offended. Somewhat daunted36, Jo righted herself, spread her handkerchief over the devoted37 ribbons, and putting temptation behind her, hurried on, with increasing dampness about the ankles, and much clashing of umbrellas overhead. The fact that a somewhat dilapidated blue one remained stationary38 above the unprotected bonnet attracted her attention, and looking up, she saw Mr. Bhaer looking down.
"I feel to know the strong-minded lady who goes so bravely under many horse noses, and so fast through much mud. What do you down here, my friend?"
"I'm shopping."
Mr. Bhaer smiled, as he glanced from the pickle39 factory on one side to the wholesale hide and leather concern on the other, but he only said politely, "You haf no umbrella. May I go also, and take for you the bundles?"
"Yes, thank you."
Jo's cheeks were as red as her ribbon, and she wondered what he thought of her, but she didn't care, for in a minute she found herself walking away arm in arm with her Professor, feeling as if the sun had suddenly burst out with uncommon40 brilliancy, that the world was all right again, and that one thoroughly41 happy woman was paddling through the wet that day.
"We thought you had gone," said Jo hastily, for she knew he was looking at her. Her bonnet wasn't big enough to hide her face, and she feared he might think the joy it betrayed unmaidenly.
"Did you believe that I should go with no farewell to those who haf been so heavenly kind to me?" he asked so reproachfully that she felt as if she had insulted him by the suggestion, and answered heartily43 . . .
"No, I didn't. I knew you were busy about your own affairs, but we rather missed you, Father and Mother especially."
"And you?"
"I'm always glad to see you, sir."
In her anxiety to keep her voice quite calm, Jo made it rather cool, and the frosty little monosyllable at the end seemed to chill the Professor, for his smile vanished, as he said gravely . . .
"I thank you, and come one more time before I go."
"You are going, then?"
"I haf no longer any business here, it is done."
"Successfully, I hope?" said Jo, for the bitterness of disappointment was in that short reply of his.
"I ought to think so, for I haf a way opened to me by which I can make my bread and gif my Junglings much help."
"Tell me, please! I like to know all about the - the boys," said Jo eagerly.
"That is so kind, I gladly tell you. My friends find for me a place in a college, where I teach as at home, and earn enough to make the way smooth for Franz and Emil. For this I should be grateful, should I not?"
"Indeed you should. How splendid it will be to have you doing what you like, and be able to see you often, and the boys!" cried Jo, clinging to the lads as an excuse for the satisfaction she could not help betraying.
"Ah! But we shall not meet often, I fear, this place is at the West."
"So far away!" and Jo left her skirts to their fate, as if it didn't matter now what became of her clothes or herself.
Mr. Bhaer could read several languages, but he had not learned to read women yet. He flattered himself that he knew Jo pretty well, and was, therefore, much amazed by the contradictions of voice, face, and manner, which she showed him in rapid succession that day, for she was in half a dozen different moods in the course of half an hour. When she met him she looked surprised, though it was impossible to help suspecting that she had come for that express purpose. When he offered her his arm, she took it with a look that filled him with delight, but when he asked if she missed him, she gave such a chilly44, formal reply that despair fell upon him. On learning his good fortune she almost clapped her hands. Was the joy all for the boys? Then on hearing his destination, she said, "So far away!" in a tone of despair that lifted him on to a pinnacle45 of hope, but the next minute she tumbled him down again by observing, like one entirely46 absorbed in the matter . . .
"Here's the place for my errands. Will you come in? It won't take long."
Jo rather prided herself upon her shopping capabilities47, and particularly wished to impress her escort with the neatness and dispatch with which she would accomplish the business. But owing to the flutter she was in, everything went amiss. She upset the tray of needles, forgot the silesia was to be 'twilled' till it was cut off, gave the wrong change, and covered herself with confusion by asking for lavender ribbon at the calico counter. Mr. Bhaer stood by, watching her blush and blunder, and as he watched, his own bewilderment seemed to subside48, for he was beginning to see that on some occasions, women, like dreams, go by contraries.
When they came out, he put the parcel under his arm with a more cheerful aspect, and splashed through the puddles50 as if he rather enjoyed it on the whole.
"Should we no do a little what you call shopping for the babies, and haf a farewell feast tonight if I go for my last call at your so pleasant home?" he asked, stopping before a window full of fruit and flowers.
"What will we buy?" asked Jo, ignoring the latter part of his speech, and sniffing51 the mingled52 odors with an affectation of delight as they went in.
"They eat them when they can get them."
"Do you care for nuts?"
"Like a squirrel."
"Hamburg grapes. Yes, we shall drink to the Fatherland in those?"
Jo frowned upon that piece of extravagance, and asked why he didn't buy a frail55 of dates, a cask of raisins56, and a bag of almonds, and be done with it? Whereat Mr. Bhaer confiscated57 her purse, produced his own, and finished the marketing58 by buying several pounds of grapes, a pot of rosy59 daisies, and a pretty jar of honey, to be regarded in the light of a demijohn. Then distorting his pockets with knobby bundles, and giving her the flowers to hold, he put up the old umbrella, and they traveled on again.
"Miss Marsch, I haf a great favor to ask of you," began the Professor, after a moist promenade4 of half a block.
"Yes, sir?" and Jo's heart began to beat so hard she was afraid he would hear it.
"Yes, sir," and Jo nearly crushed the small flowerpot with the sudden squeeze she gave it.
"I wish to get a little dress for my Tina, and I am too stupid to go alone. Will you kindly61 gif me a word of taste and help?"
"Yes, sir," and Jo felt as calm and cool all of a sudden as if she had stepped into a refrigerator.
"Perhaps also a shawl for Tina's mother, she is so poor and sick, and the husband is such a care. Yes, yes, a thick, warm shawl would be a friendly thing to take the little mother."
"I'll do it with pleasure, Mr. Bhaer." "I'm going very fast, and he's getting dearer every minute," added Jo to herself, then with a mental shake she entered into the business with an energy that was pleasant to behold62.
Mr. Bhaer left it all to her, so she chose a pretty gown for Tina, and then ordered out the shawls. The clerk, being a married man, condescended63 to take an interest in the couple, who appeared to be shopping for their family.
"Your lady may prefer this. It's a superior article, a most desirable color, quite chaste64 and genteel," he said, shaking out a comfortable gray shawl, and throwing it over Jo's shoulders.
"Does this suit you, Mr. Bhaer?" she asked, turning her back to him, and feeling deeply grateful for the chance of hiding her face.
"Excellently well, we will haf it," answered the Professor, smiling to himself as he paid for it, while Jo continued to rummage65 the counters like a confirmed bargain-hunter.
"Now shall we go home?" he asked, as if the words were very pleasant to him.
"Yes, it's late, and I'm so tired." Jo's voice was more pathetic than she knew. For now the sun seemed to have gone in as suddenly as it came out, and the world grew muddy and miserable66 again, and for the first time she discovered that her feet were cold, her head ached, and that her heart was colder than the former, fuller of pain than the latter. Mr. Bhaer was going away, he only cared for her as a friend, it was all a mistake, and the sooner it was over the better. With this idea in her head, she hailed an approaching omnibus with such a hasty gesture that the daisies flew out of the pot and were badly damaged.
"This is not our omniboos," said the Professor, waving the loaded vehicle away, and stopping to pick up the poor little flowers.
"I beg your pardon. I didn't see the name distinctly. Never mind, I can walk. I'm used to plodding67 in the mud," returned Jo, winking68 hard, because she would have died rather than openly wipe her eyes.
Mr. Bhaer saw the drops on her cheeks, though she turned her head away. The sight seemed to touch him very much, for suddenly stooping down, he asked in a tone that meant a great deal, "Heart's dearest, why do you cry?"
Now, if Jo had not been new to this sort of thing she would have said she wasn't crying, had a cold in her head, or told any other feminine fib proper to the occasion. Instead of which, that undignified creature answered, with an irrepressible sob20, "Because you are going away."
"Ach, mein Gott, that is so good!" cried Mr. Bhaer, managing to clasp his hands in spite of the umbrella and the bundles, "Jo, I haf nothing but much love to gif you. I came to see if you could care for it, and I waited to be sure that I was something more than a friend. Am I? Can you make a little place in your heart for old Fritz?" he added, all in one breath.
"Oh, yes!" said Jo, and he was quite satisfied, for she folded both hands over his arm, and looked up at him with an expression that plainly showed how happy she would be to walk through life beside him, even though she had no better shelter than the old umbrella, if he carried it.
It was certainly proposing under difficulties, for even if he had desired to do so, Mr. Bhaer could not go down upon his knees, on account of the mud. Neither could he offer Jo his hand, except figuratively, for both were full. Much less could he indulge in tender remonstrations in the open street, though he was near it. So the only way in which he could express his rapture69 was to look at her, with an expression which glorified70 his face to such a degree that there actually seemed to be little rainbows in the drops that sparkled on his beard. If he had not loved Jo very much, I don't think he could have done it then, for she looked far from lovely, with her skirts in a deplorable state, her rubber boots splashed to the ankle, and her bonnet a ruin. Fortunately, Mr. Bhaer considered her the most beautiful woman living, and she found him more "Jove-like" than ever, though his hatbrim was quite limp with the little rills trickling71 thence upon his shoulders (for he held the umbrella all over Jo), and every finger of his gloves needed mending.
Passers-by probably thought them a pair of harmless lunatics, for they entirely forgot to hail a bus, and strolled leisurely72 along, oblivious73 of deepening dusk and fog. Little they cared what anybody thought, for they were enjoying the happy hour that seldom comes but once in any life, the magical moment which bestows74 youth on the old, beauty on the plain, wealth on the poor, and gives human hearts a foretaste of heaven. The Professor looked as if he had conquered a kingdom, and the world had nothing more to offer him in the way of bliss3. While Jo trudged75 beside him, feeling as if her place had always been there, and wondering how she ever could have chosen any other lot. Of course, she was the first to speak - intelligibly76, I mean, for the emotional remarks which followed her impetuous "Oh, yes!" were not of a coherent or reportable character.
"Friedrich, why didn't you . . ."
"Ah, heaven, she gifs me the name that no one speaks since Minna died!" cried the Professor, pausing in a puddle49 to regard her with grateful delight.
"I always call you so to myself - I forgot, but I won't unless you like it."
"Like it? It is more sweet to me than I can tell. Say 'thou', also, and I shall say your language is almost as beautiful as mine."
"Sentimental? Yes. Thank Gott, we Germans believe in sentiment, and keep ourselves young mit it. Your English 'you' is so cold, say 'thou', heart's dearest, it means so much to me," pleaded Mr. Bhaer, more like a romantic student than a grave professor.
"Well, then, why didn't thou tell me all this sooner?" asked Jo bashfully.
"Now I shall haf to show thee all my heart, and I so gladly will, because thou must take care of it hereafter. See, then, my Jo - ah, the dear, funny little name - I had a wish to tell something the day I said goodbye in New York, but I thought the handsome friend was betrothed79 to thee, and so I spoke80 not. Wouldst thou have said 'Yes', then, if I had spoken?"
"I don't know. I'm afraid not, for I didn't have any heart just then."
"Prut! That I do not believe. It was asleep till the fairy prince came through the wood, and waked it up. Ah, well, 'Die erste Liebe ist die beste', but that I should not expect."
"Yes, the first love is the best, but be so contented81, for I never had another. Teddy was only a boy, and soon got over his little fancy," said Jo, anxious to correct the Professor's mistake.
"Good! Then I shall rest happy, and be sure that thou givest me all. I haf waited so long, I am grown selfish, as thou wilt82 find, Professorin."
"I like that," cried Jo, delighted with her new name. "Now tell me what brought you, at last, just when I wanted you?"
"This," and Mr. Bhaer took a little worn paper out of his waistcoat pocket.
Jo unfolded it, and looked much abashed83, for it was one of her own contributions to a paper that paid for poetry, which accounted for her sending it an occasional attempt.
"How could that bring you?" she asked, wondering what he meant.
"I found it by chance. I knew it by the names and the initials, and in it there was one little verse that seemed to call me. Read and find him. I will see that you go not in the wet."
IN THE GARRET
Four little chests all in a row,
Dim with dust, and worn by time,
All fashioned and filled, long ago,
By children now in their prime.
Four little keys hung side by side,
With faded ribbons, brave and gay
When fastened there, with childish pride,
Long ago, on a rainy day.
Four little names, one on each lid,
Carved out by a boyish hand,
And underneath84 there lieth hid
Histories of the happpy band
Once playing here, and pausing oft
To hear the sweet refrain,
That came and went on the roof aloft,
In the falling summer rain.
"Meg" on the first lid, smooth and fair.
I look in with loving eyes,
For folded here, with well-known care,
The record of a peaceful life -
Gifts to gentle child and girl,
A bridal gown, lines to a wife,
A tiny shoe, a baby curl.
No toys in this first chest remain,
For all are carried away,
In their old age, to join again
In another small Meg's play.
Ah, happy mother! Well I know
You hear, like a sweet refrain,
Lullabies ever soft and low
In the falling summer rain.
"Jo" on the next lid, scratched and worn,
And within a motley store
Of headless dolls, of schoolbooks torn,
Birds and beasts that speak no more,
Spoils brought home from the fairy ground
Only trod by youthful feet,
Dreams of a future never found,
Memories of a past still sweet,
Half-writ poems, stories wild,
April letters, warm and cold,
Hints of a woman early old,
A woman in a lonely home,
Hearing, like a sad refrain -
In the falling summer rain.
My Beth! the dust is always swept
From the lid that bears your name,
As if by loving eyes that wept,
By careful hands that often came.
Death cannonized for us one saint,
Ever less human than divine,
And still we lay, with tender plaint,
The silver bell, so seldom rung,
The little cap which last she wore,
The fair, dead Catherine that hung
By angels borne above her door.
In her prison-house of pain,
Forever are they sweetly blent
With the falling summer rain.
Upon the last lid's polished field -
Legend now both fair and true
"Amy" in letters gold and blue.
Within lie snoods that bound her hair,
Faded flowers laid by with care,
Trifles that have borne their part
In girlish hopes and fears and shames,
Now learning fairer, truer spells,
The silver sound of bridal bells
In the falling summer rain.
Four little chests all in a row,
Dim with dust, and worn by time,
Four sisters, parted for an hour,
None lost, one only gone before,
Nearest and dearest evermore.
Oh, when these hidden stores of ours
Lie open to the Father's sight,
May they be rich in golden hours,
Deeds that show fairer for the light,
Lives whose brave music long shall ring,
Like a spirit-stirring strain,
Souls that shall gladly soar and sing
In the long sunshine after rain.
"It's very bad poetry, but I felt it when I wrote it, one day when I was very lonely, and had a good cry on a rag bag. I never thought it would go where it could tell tales," said Jo, tearing up the verses the Professor had treasured so long.
"Let it go, it has done it's duty, and I will haf a fresh one when I read all the brown book in which she keeps her little secrets," said Mr. Bhaer with a smile as he watched the fragments fly away on the wind. "Yes," he added earnestly, "I read that, and I think to myself, She has a sorrow, she is lonely, she would find comfort in true love. I haf a heart full, full for her. Shall I not go and say, 'If this is not too poor a thing to gif for what I shall hope to receive, take it in Gott's name?'"
"And so you came to find that it was not too poor, but the one precious thing I needed," whispered Jo.
"I had no courage to think that at first, heavenly kind as was your welcome to me. But soon I began to hope, and then I said, 'I will haf her if I die for it,' and so I will!" cried Mr. Bhaer, with a defiant99 nod, as if the walls of mist closing round them were barriers which he was to surmount100 or valiantly101 knock down.
Jo thought that was splendid, and resolved to be worthy of her knight, though he did not come prancing102 on a charger in gorgeous array.
"What made you stay away so long?" she asked presently, finding it so pleasant to ask confidential103 questions and get delightful104 answers that she could not keep silent.
"It was not easy, but I could not find the heart to take you from that so happy home until I could haf a prospect105 of one to gif you, after much time, perhaps, and hard work. How could I ask you to gif up so much for a poor old fellow, who has no fortune but a little learning?"
"I'm glad you are poor. I couldn't bear a rich husband," said Jo decidedly, adding in a softer tone, "Don't fear poverty. I've known it long enough to lose my dread and be happy working for those I love, and don't call yourself old - forty is the prime of life. I couldn't help loving you if you were seventy!"
The Professor found that so touching106 that he would have been glad of his handkerchief, if he could have got at it. As he couldn't, Jo wiped his eyes for him, and said, laughing, as she took away a bundle or two . . .
"I may be strong-minded, but no one can say I'm out of my sphere now, for woman's special mission is supposed to be drying tears and bearing burdens. I'm to carry my share, Friedrich, and help to earn the home. Make up your mind to that, or I'll never go," she added resolutely107, as he tried to reclaim108 his load.
"We shall see. Haf you patience to wait a long time, Jo? I must go away and do my work alone. I must help my boys first, because, even for you, I may not break my word to Minna. Can you forgif that, and be happy while we hope and wait?"
"Yes, I know I can, for we love one another, and that makes all the rest easy to bear. I have my duty, also, and my work. I couldn't enjoy myself if I neglected them even for you, so there's no need of hurry or impatience109. You can do your part out West, I can do mine here, and both be happy hoping for the best, and leaving the future to be as God wills."
"Ah! Thou gifest me such hope and courage, and I haf nothing to gif back but a full heart and these empty hands," cried the Professor, quite overcome.
Jo never, never would learn to be proper, for when he said that as they stood upon the steps, she just put both hands into his, whispering tenderly, "Not empty now," and stooping down, kissed her Friedrich under the umbrella. It was dreadful, but she would have done it if the flock of draggle-tailed sparrows on the hedge had been human beings, for she was very far gone indeed, and quite regardless of everything but her own happiness. Though it came in such a very simple guise110, that was the crowning moment of both their lives, when, turning from the night and storm and loneliness to the household light and warmth and peace waiting to receive them, with a glad "Welcome home!" Jo led her lover in, and shut the door.
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conjugal
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| adj.婚姻的，婚姻性的 | |
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velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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bliss
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| n.狂喜，福佑，天赐的福 | |
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promenade
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promenades
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| n.人行道( promenade的名词复数 )；散步场所；闲逛v.兜风( promenade的第三人称单数 ) | |
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sodden
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concealed
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perfectly
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| adv.完美地，无可非议地，彻底地 | |
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quench
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agitated
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vehement
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dread
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worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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propriety
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| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
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alluded
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exulted
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| 狂喜，欢跃( exult的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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regularity
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| n.规律性，规则性；匀称，整齐 | |
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proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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sob
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| n.空间轨道的轰炸机；呜咽，哭泣 | |
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pensive
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| a.沉思的,哀思的,忧沉的 | |
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22
alas
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| int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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23
bonnet
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| n.无边女帽；童帽 | |
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24
alluding
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| 提及，暗指( allude的现在分词 ) | |
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25
gratitude
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| adj.感激，感谢 | |
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26
wholesale
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| n.批发；adv.以批发方式；vt.批发，成批出售 | |
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27
congregate
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| v.(使)集合，聚集 | |
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28
descending
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| n. 下行 adj. 下降的 | |
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29
hustled
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| 催促（hustle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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30
drenching
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| n.湿透v.使湿透( drench的现在分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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31
crimson
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| n./adj.深(绯)红色(的)；vi.脸变绯红色 | |
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32
warehouse
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| n.仓库；vt.存入仓库 | |
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33
philandering
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| v.调戏，玩弄女性( philander的现在分词 ) | |
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34
trudge
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| v.步履艰难地走；n.跋涉，费力艰难的步行 | |
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35
precipitated
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| v.（突如其来地）使发生( precipitate的过去式和过去分词 )；促成；猛然摔下；使沉淀 | |
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36
daunted
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| 使（某人）气馁，威吓( daunt的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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37
devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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38
stationary
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| adj.固定的，静止不动的 | |
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39
pickle
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| n.腌汁，泡菜；v.腌，泡 | |
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40
uncommon
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| adj.罕见的，非凡的，不平常的 | |
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41
thoroughly
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| adv.完全地，彻底地，十足地 | |
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42
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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43
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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44
chilly
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| adj.凉快的，寒冷的 | |
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45
pinnacle
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| n.尖塔，尖顶，山峰；(喻)顶峰 | |
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46
entirely
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| ad.全部地，完整地；完全地，彻底地 | |
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47
capabilities
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| n.能力( capability的名词复数 )；可能；容量；[复数]潜在能力 | |
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48
subside
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| vi.平静，平息；下沉，塌陷，沉降 | |
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49
puddle
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| n.(雨)水坑，泥潭 | |
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50
puddles
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| n.水坑， （尤指道路上的）雨水坑( puddle的名词复数 ) | |
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51
sniffing
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| n.探查法v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的现在分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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52
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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53
figs
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| figures 数字，图形，外形 | |
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54
paternal
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| adj.父亲的，像父亲的，父系的，父方的 | |
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55
frail
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| adj.身体虚弱的；易损坏的 | |
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56
raisins
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| n.葡萄干( raisin的名词复数 ) | |
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57
confiscated
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| 没收，充公( confiscate的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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58
marketing
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| n.行销，在市场的买卖，买东西 | |
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59
rosy
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| adj.美好的，乐观的，玫瑰色的 | |
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60
remains
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| n.剩余物，残留物；遗体，遗迹 | |
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61
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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62
behold
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| v.看，注视，看到 | |
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63
condescended
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| 屈尊，俯就( condescend的过去式和过去分词 )； 故意表示和蔼可亲 | |
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64
chaste
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| adj.贞洁的；有道德的；善良的；简朴的 | |
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65
rummage
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| v./n.翻寻，仔细检查 | |
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66
miserable
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| adj.悲惨的，痛苦的；可怜的，糟糕的 | |
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67
plodding
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| a.proceeding in a slow or dull way | |
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68
winking
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| n.瞬眼，目语v.使眼色( wink的现在分词 )；递眼色（表示友好或高兴等）；（指光）闪烁；闪亮 | |
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69
rapture
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| n.狂喜；全神贯注；着迷；v.使狂喜 | |
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70
glorified
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| 美其名的，变荣耀的 | |
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71
trickling
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| n.油画底色含油太多而成泡沫状突起v.滴( trickle的现在分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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72
leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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73
oblivious
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| adj.易忘的，遗忘的，忘却的，健忘的 | |
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74
bestows
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| 赠给，授予( bestow的第三人称单数 ) | |
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75
trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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76
intelligibly
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| adv.可理解地，明了地，清晰地 | |
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77
sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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78
privately
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| adv.以私人的身份，悄悄地，私下地 | |
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79
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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80
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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81
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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82
wilt
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| v.(使)植物凋谢或枯萎；(指人)疲倦，衰弱 | |
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83
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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84
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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85
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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86
wilful
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| adj.任性的，故意的 | |
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87
relics
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| [pl.］n.遗物，遗迹，遗产；遗体，尸骸 | |
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88
shrine
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| n.圣地，神龛，庙；v.将...置于神龛内，把...奉为神圣 | |
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89
lament
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| n.悲叹，悔恨，恸哭；v.哀悼，悔恨，悲叹 | |
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90
gallant
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| adj.英勇的，豪侠的；(向女人)献殷勤的 | |
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91
knight
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| n.骑士，武士；爵士 | |
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92
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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93
toils
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| 网 | |
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94
ardent
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，强烈的，烈性的 | |
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95
blithe
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| adj.快乐的，无忧无虑的 | |
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96
woe
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| n.悲哀，苦痛，不幸，困难；int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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97
labor
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| n.劳动，努力，工作，劳工；分娩；vi.劳动，努力，苦干；vt.详细分析；麻烦 | |
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98
immortal
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| adj.不朽的；永生的，不死的；神的 | |
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99
defiant
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| adj.无礼的，挑战的 | |
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100
surmount
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| vt.克服；置于…顶上 | |
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101
valiantly
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| adv.勇敢地，英勇地；雄赳赳 | |
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102
prancing
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| v.（马）腾跃( prance的现在分词 ) | |
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103
confidential
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| adj.秘（机）密的，表示信任的，担任机密工作的 | |
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104
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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105
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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106
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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107
resolutely
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| adj.坚决地，果断地 | |
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108
reclaim
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| v.要求归还，收回；开垦 | |
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109
impatience
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| n.不耐烦，急躁 | |
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110
guise
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| n.外表，伪装的姿态 | |
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