An Old-Fashioned Girl - Chapter 5
时间：2020-11-11 08:05:36
（单词翻译:单击）
AFTER being unusually good, children are apt to turn short round and refresh themselves by acting1 like Sancho. For a week after Tom's mishap2, the young folks were quite angelic, so much so that grandma said she was afraid "something was going to happen to them." The dear old lady need n't have felt anxious, for such excessive virtue3 does n't last long enough to lead to translation, except with little prigs in the goody story-books; and no sooner was Tom on his legs again, when the whole party went astray, and much tribulation4 was the consequence.
It all began with "Polly's stupidity," as Fan said afterward5. Just as Polly ran down to meet Mr. Shaw one evening, and was helping6 him off with his coat, the bell rang, and a fine bouquet7 of hothouse flowers was left in Polly's hands, for she never could learn city ways, and opened the door herself.
"Hey! what's this? My little Polly is beginning early, after all," said Mr. Shaw, laughing, as he watched the girl's face dimple and flush, as she smelt8 the lovely nosegay, and glanced at a note half hidden in the heliotrope9.
Now, if Polly had n't been "stupid," as Fan said, she would have had her wits about her, and let it pass; but, you see, Polly was an honest little soul and it never occurred to her that there was any need of concealment10, so she answered in her straightforward11 way, "Oh, they ain't for me, sir; they are for Fan; from Mr. Frank, I guess. She'll be so pleased."
"That puppy sends her things of this sort, does he?" And Mr. Shaw looked far from pleased as he pulled out the note, and coolly opened it.
Polly had her doubts about Fan's approval of that "sort of thing," but dared not say a word, and stood thinking how she used to show her father the funny valentines the boys sent her, and how they laughed over them together. But Mr. Shaw did not laugh when he had read the sentimental12 verses accompanying the bouquet, and his face quite scared Polly, as he asked, angrily, "How long has this nonsense been going on?"
"Indeed, sir, I don't know. Fan does n't mean any harm. I wish I had n't said anything!" stammered13 Polly, remembering the promise given to Fanny the day of the concert. She had forgotten all about it and had become accustomed to see the "big boys," as she called Mr. Frank and his friends, with the girls on all occasions. Now, it suddenly occurred to her that Mr. Shaw did n't like such amusements, and had forbidden Fan to indulge in them. "Oh, dear! how mad she will be. Well, I can't help it. Girls should n't have secrets from their fathers, then there would n't be any fuss," thought Polly, as she watched Mr. Shaw twist up the pink note and poke14 it back among the flowers which he took from her, saying, shortly, "Send Fanny to me in the library."
"Now you've done it, you stupid thing!" cried Fanny, both angry and dismayed, when Polly delivered the message.
"Why, what else could I do?" asked Polly, much disturbed.
"Let him think the bouquet was for you; then there'd have been no trouble."
"But that would have been doing a lie, which is most as bad as telling one."
"Don't be a goose. You've got me into a scrape, and you ought to help me out."
"I will if I can; but I won't tell lies for anybody!" cried Polly, getting excited.
"Nobody wants you to just hold, your tongue, and let me manage."
"Then I'd better not go down," began Polly, when a stern voice from below called, like Bluebeard, "Are you coming down?"
"Yes, sir," answered a meek15 voice; and Fanny clutched Polly, whispering, "You must come; I'm frightened out of my wits when he speaks like that. Stand by me, Polly; there's a dear."
"I will," whispered "sister Ann"; and down they went with fluttering hearts.
Mr. Shaw stood on the rug, looking rather grim; the bouquet lay on the table, and beside it a note, directed to "Frank Moore, Esq.," in a very decided16 hand, with a fierce-looking flourish after the "Esq." Pointing to this impressive epistle, Mr. Shaw said, knitting his black eyebrows17 as he looked at Fanny, "I'm going to put a stop to this nonsense at once; and if I see any more of it, I'll send you to school in a Canadian convent."
This awful threat quite took Polly's breath away; but Fanny had heard it before, and having a temper of her own, said, pertly, "I'm sure I have n't done anything so very dreadful. I can't help it if the boys send me philopena presents, as they do to the other girls."
"There was nothing about philopenas in the note. But that's not the question. I forbid you to have anything to do with this Moore. He's not a boy, but a fast fellow, and I won't have him about. You knew this, and yet disobeyed me."
"I hardly ever see him," began Fanny.
"Is that true?" asked Mr. Shaw, turning suddenly to Polly.
"Oh, please, sir, don't ask me. I promised I would n't that is Fanny will tell you," cried Polly, quite red with distress19 at the predicament she was in.
"No matter about your promise; tell me all you know of this absurd affair. It will do Fanny more good than harm." And Mr. Shaw sat down looking more amiable20, for Polly's dismay touched him.
"May I?" she whispered to Fanny.
"I don't care," answered Fan, looking both angry and ashamed, as she stood sullenly21 tying knots in her handkerchief.
So Polly told, with much reluctance22 and much questioning, all she knew of the walks, the lunches, the meetings, and the notes. It was n't much, and evidently less serious than Mr. Shaw expected; for, as he listened, his eyebrows smoothed themselves out, and more than once his lips twitched23 as if he wanted to laugh, for after all, it was rather comical to see how the young people aped their elders, playing the new-fashioned game, quite unconscious of its real beauty, power, and sacredness.
"Oh, please, sir, don't blame Fan much, for she truly is n't half as silly as Trix and the other, girls. She would n't go sleigh-riding, though Mr. Frank teased, and she wanted to ever so much. She's sorry, I know, and won't forget what you say any more, if you'll forgive her this once," cried Polly, very earnestly, when the foolish little story was told.
"I don't see how I can help it, when you plead so well for her. Come here, Fan, and mind this one thing; drop all this nonsense, and attend to your books, or off you go; and Canada is no joke in winter time, let me tell you."
As he spoke24, Mr. Shaw stroked his sulky daughter's cheek, hoping to see some sign of regret; but Fanny felt injured, and would n't show that she was sorry, so she only said, pettishly25, "I suppose I can have my flowers, now the fuss is over."
"They are going straight back where they came from, with a line from me, which will keep that puppy from ever sending you any more." Ringing the bell, Mr. Shaw despatched the unfortunate posy, and then turned to Polly, saying, kindly26 but gravely, "Set this silly child of mine a good example and do your best for her, won't you?"
"Me? What can I do, sir?" asked Polly, looking ready, but quite ignorant how to begin.
"Make her as like yourself as possible, my dear; nothing would please me better. Now go, and let us hear no more of this folly27."
They went without a word, and Mr. Shaw heard no more of the affair; but poor Polly did, for Fan scolded her, till Polly thought seriously of packing up and going home next day. I really have n't the heart to relate the dreadful lectures she got, the snubs she suffered, or the cold shoulders turned upon her for several days after this. Polly's heart was full, but she told no one, and bore her trouble silently, feeling her friend's ingratitude28 and injustice29 deeply.
Tom found out what the matter was, and sided with Polly, which proceeding30 led to scrape number two.
"Where's Fan?" asked the young gentleman, strolling into his sister's room, where Polly lay on the sofa, trying to forget her troubles in an interesting book.
"Down stairs, seeing company."
"Why did n't you go, too?"
"I don't like Trix, and I don't know her fine New York friends."
"Don't want to, neither, why don't you say?"
"Not polite."
"Who cares? I say, Polly, come and have some fun."
"I'd rather read."
"That is n't polite."
Polly laughed, and turned a page. Tom whistled a minute, then sighed deeply, and put his hand to his forehead, which the black plaster still adorned31.
"Does your head ache?" asked Polly.
"Better lie down, then."
"Can't; I'm fidgety, and want to be'amoosed' as Pug says."
"Just wait till I finish my chapter, and then I'll come," said pitiful Polly.
"All right," returned the perjured33 boy, who had discovered that a broken head was sometimes more useful than a whole one, and exulting34 in his base stratagem35, he roved about the room, till Fan's bureau arrested him. It was covered with all sorts of finery, for she had dressed in a hurry, and left everything topsy-turvy. A well-conducted boy would have let things alone, or a moral brother would have put things to rights; being neither, Tom rummaged36 to his hearts content, till Fan's drawers looked as if some one had been making hay in them. He tried the effect of ear-rings, ribbons, and collars; wound up the watch, though it was n't time; burnt his inquisitive37 nose with smelling-salts; deluged38 his grimy handkerchief with Fan's best cologne; anointed his curly crop with her hair-oil; powdered his face with her violet-powder; and finished off by pinning on a bunch of false ringlets, which Fanny tried, to keep a profound secret. The ravages39 committed by this bad boy are beyond the power of language to describe, as he revelled40 in the interesting drawers, boxes, and cases, which held his sister's treasures.
When the curls had been put on, with much pricking41 of fingers, and a blue ribbon added, la Fan, he surveyed himself with satisfaction, and considered the effect so fine, that he was inspired to try a still greater metamorphosis. The dress Fan had taken off lay on a chair, and into it got Tom, chuckling42 with suppressed laughter, for Polly was absorbed, and the bed-curtains hid his iniquity43. Fan's best velvet44 jacket and hat, ermine muff, and a sofa-pillow for pannier, finished off the costume, and tripping along with elbows out, Tom appeared before the amazed Polly just as the chapter ended. She enjoyed the joke so heartily45, that Tom forgot consequences, and proposed going down into the parlor46 to surprise, the girls.
"Goodness, no! Fanny never would forgive us if you showed her curls and things to those people. There are gentlemen among them, and it would n't be proper," said Polly, alarmed at the idea.
"All the more fun. Fan has n't treated you well, and it will serve her right if you introduce me as your dear friend, Miss Shaw. Come on, it will be a jolly lark47."
"I would n't for the world; it would be so mean. Take'em off, Tom, and I'll play anything else you like."
"I ain't going to dress up for nothing; I look so lovely, someone must admire me. Take me down, Polly, and see if they don't call me'a sweet creature.'"
Tom looked so unutterably ridiculous as he tossed his curls and pranced48, that Polly went off into another gale49 of merriment; but even while she laughed, she resolved not to let him mortify50 his sister.
"Now, then, get out of the way if you won't come; I'm going down," said Tom.
"No, you're not."
Tom was a pepper-pot as to temper, and anything like opposition53 always had a bad effect. Forgetting his costume, he strode up to Polly, saying, with a threatening wag of the head, "None of that. I won't stand it."
"Promise not to plague Fan, and I'll let you out."
"Won't promise anything. Give me that key, or I'll make you."
"Now, Tom, don't be savage54. I only want to keep you out of a scrape, for Fan will be raging if you go. Take off her things, and I'll give up."
Tom vouchsafed55 no reply, but marched to the other door, which was fast, as Polly knew, looked out of the three-story window, and finding no escape possible, came back with a wrathful face. "Will you give me that key?"
"I'm stronger than you are; so you'd better hand over."
"I know you are; but it's cowardly for a great boy like you to rob a girl."
"I don't want to hurt you; but, by George! I won't stand this!"
Tom paused as Polly spoke, evidently ashamed of himself; but his temper was up, and he would n't give in. If Polly had cried a little just here, he would have yielded; unfortunately she giggled58, for Tom's fierce attitude was such a funny contrast to his dress that she could n't help it. That settled the matter. No girl that ever lived should giggle57 at him, much less lock him up like a small child. Without a word, he made a grab at Polly's arm, for the hand holding the key was still in her, pocket. With her other hand she clutched her frock, and for a minute held on stoutly59. But Tom's strong fingers were irresistible60; rip went the pocket, out came the hand, and with a cry of pain from Polly, the key fell on the floor.
"It's your own fault if you're hurt. I did n't mean to," muttered Tom, as he hastily departed, leaving Polly to groan61 over her sprained62 wrist. He went down, but not into the parlor, for somehow the joke seemed to have lost its relish63; so he made the girls in the kitchen laugh, and then crept up the back way, hoping to make it all right with Polly. But she had gone to grandma's room, for, though the old lady was out, it seemed a refuge. He had just time to get things in order, when Fanny came up, crosser than ever; for Trix had been telling her of all sorts of fun in which she might have had a share, if Polly had held her tongue.
"Moping in her room, I suppose," replied Tom, who was discovered reading studiously.
Now, while this had been happening, Maud had been getting into hot water also; for when her maid left her, to see a friend below, Miss Maud paraded into Polly's room, and solaced64 herself with mischief65. In an evil hour Polly had let her play boat in her big trunk, which stood empty. Since then Polly had stored some of her most private treasures in the upper tray, so that she might feel sure they were safe from all eyes. She had forgotten to lock the trunk, and when Maud raised the lid to begin her voyage, several objects of interest met her eyes. She was deep in her researches when Fan came in and looked over her shoulder, feeling too cross with Polly to chide66 Maud.
As Polly had no money for presents, she had exerted her ingenuity67 to devise all sorts of gifts, hoping by quantity to atone68 for any shortcomings in quality. Some of her attempts were successful, others were failures; but she kept them all, fine or funny, knowing the children at home would enjoy anything new. Some of Maud's cast-off toys had been neatly69 mended for Kitty; some of Fan's old ribbons and laces were converted into dolls' finery; and Tom's little figures, whittled70 out of wood in idle minutes, were laid away to show Will what could be done with a knife.
"What rubbish!" said Fanny.
"Queer girl, is n't she?" added Tom, who had followed to see what was going on.
"Don't you laugh at Polly's things. She makes nicer dolls than you, Fan; and she can wite and dwar ever so much better than Tom," cried Maud. "How do you know? I never saw her draw," said Tom.
"Here's a book with lots of pictures in it. I can't wead the witing; but the pictures are so funny."
Eager to display her friend's accomplishments71, Maud pulled out a fat little book, marked "Polly's Journal," and spread it in her lap.
"Only the pictures; no harm in taking a look at'em," said Tom.
"Just one peep," answered Fanny; and the next minute both were laughing at a droll72 sketch73 of Tom in the gutter74, with the big dog howling over him, and the velocipede running away. Very rough and faulty, but so funny, that it was evident Polly's sense of humor was strong. A few pages farther back came Fanny and Mr. Frank, caricatured; then grandma, carefully done; Tom reciting his battle-piece; Mr. Shaw and Polly in the park; Maud being borne away by Katy; and all the school-girls turned into ridicule75 with an unsparing hand.
"Sly little puss, to make fun of us behind our backs," said Fan, rather nettled76 by Polly's quiet retaliation77 for many slights from herself and friends.
"She does draw well," said Tom, looking critically at the sketch of a boy with a pleasant face, round whom Polly had drawn78 rays like the sun, and under which was written, "My dear Jimmy."
"You would n't admire her, if you knew what she wrote here about you," said Fanny, whose eyes had strayed to the written page opposite, and lingered there long enough to read something that excited her curiosity.
"What is it?" asked Tom, forgetting his honorable resolves for a minute.
"She says, 'I try to like Tom, and when he is pleasant we do very well; but he don't stay so long. He gets cross and rough, and disrespectful to his father and mother, and plagues us girls, and is so horrid79 I almost hate him. It's very wrong, but I can't help it.' How do you like that?" asked Fanny.
"Go ahead, and see how she comes down on you, ma'am," retorted Tom, who had read on a bit.
"Does she?" And Fanny continued, rapidly: "As for Fan, I don't think we can be friends any more; for she told her father a lie, and won't forgive me for not doing so too. I used to think her a very fine girl; but I don't now. If she would be as she was when I first knew her, I should love her just the same; but she is n't kind to me; and though she is always talking about politeness, I don't think it is polite to treat company as she does me. She thinks I am odd and countrified, and I dare say I am; but I should n't laugh at a girl's clothes because she was poor, or keep her out of the way because she did n't do just as other girls do here. I see her make fun of me, and I can't feel as I did; and I'd go home, only it would seem ungrateful to Mr. Shaw and grandma, and I do love them dearly."
"I say, Fan, you've got it now. Shut the book and come away," cried Tom, enjoying this broadside immensely, but feeling guilty, as well he might.
"Just one bit more," whispered Fanny, turning on a page or two, and stopping at a leaf that was blurred80 here and there as if tears had dropped on it.
"Sunday morning, early. Nobody is up to spoil my quiet time, and I must write my journal, for I've been so bad lately, I could n't bear to do it. I'm glad my visit is most done, for things worry me here, and there is n't any one to help me get right when I get wrong. I used to envy Fanny; but I don't now, for her father and mother don't take care of her as mine do of me. She is afraid of her father, and makes her mother do as she likes. I'm glad I came though, for I see money don't give people everything; but I'd like a little all the same, for it is so comfortable to buy nice things. I read over my journal just now, and I'm afraid it's not a good one; for I have said all sorts of things about the people here, and it is n't kind. I should tear it out, only I promised to keep my diary, and I want to talk over things that puzzle me with mother. I see now that it is my fault a good deal; for I have n't been half as patient, and pleasant as I ought to be. I will truly try for the rest of the time, and be as good and grateful as I can; for I want them to like me, though I'm only'an old-fashioned country girl.'"
That last sentence made Fanny shut the book, with a face full of self-reproach; for she had said those words herself, in a fit of petulance81, and Polly had made no answer, though her eyes filled and her cheeks burned. Fan opened her lips to say something, but not a sound followed, for there stood Polly looking at them with an expression they had never seen before.
"What are you doing with my things?" she demanded, in a low tone, while her eyes kindled82 and her color changed.
"Maud showed us a book she found, and we were just looking at the pictures," began Fanny, dropping it as if it burnt her fingers.
"And reading my journal, and laughing at my presents, and then putting the blame on Maud. It's the meanest thing I ever saw; and I'll never forgive you as long as I live!"
Polly said, this all in one indignant breath, and then as if afraid of saying too much, ran out of the room with such a look of mingled83 contempt, grief, and anger, that the three culprits stood dumb with shame. Tom had n't even a whistle at his command; Maud was so scared at gentle Polly's outbreak, that she sat as still as a mouse; while Fanny, conscience stricken, laid back the poor little presents with a respectful hand, for somehow the thought of Polly's poverty came over her as it never had done before; and these odds84 and ends, so carefully treasured up for those at home, touched Fanny, and grew beautiful in her eyes. As she laid by the little book, the confessions85 in it reproached her more sharply that any words Polly could have spoken; for she had laughed at her friend, had slighted her sometimes, and been unforgiving for an innocent offence. That last page, where Polly took the blame on herself, and promised to "truly try" to be more kind and patient, went to Fanny's heart, melting all the coldness away, and she could only lay her head on the trunk, sobbing86, "It was n't Polly's fault; it was all mine."
Tom, still red with shame at being caught in such a scrape, left Fanny to her tears, and went manfully away to find the injured Polly, and confess his manifold transgressions87. But Polly could n't be found. He searched high and low in every room, yet no sign of the girt appeared, and Tom began to get anxious. "She can't have run away home, can she?" he said to himself, as he paused before the hat-tree. There was the little round hat, and Tom gave it a remorseful89 smooth, remembering how many times he had tweaked it half off, or poked90 it over poor Polly's eyes. "Maybe she's gone down to the office, to tell pa. 'T is n't a bit like her, though. Anyway, I'll take a look round the corner."
Eager to get his boots, Tom pulled open the door of a dark closet under the stairs, and nearly tumbled over backward with surprise; for there, on the floor, with her head pillowed on a pair of rubbers, lay Polly in an attitude of despair. This mournful spectacle sent Tom's penitent91 speech straight out of his head, and with an astonished "Hullo!" he stood and stared in impressive silence. Polly was n't crying, and lay so still, that Tom began to think she might be in a fit or a faint, and bent92 anxiously down to inspect the pathetic bunch. A glimpse of wet eyelashes, a round cheek redder than usual, and lips parted by quick, breathing, relieved his mind upon that point; so, taking courage, he sat down on the boot-jack, and begged pardon like a man.
Now, Polly was very angry, and I think she had a right to be; but she was not resentful, and after the first flash was over, she soon began to feel better about it. It was n't easy to forgive; but, as she listened to Tom's honest voice, getting gruff with remorse88 now and then, she could n't harden her heart against him, or refuse to make up when he so frankly93 owned that it "was confounded mean to read her book that way." She liked his coming and begging pardon at once; it was a handsome thing to do; she appreciated it, and forgave him in her heart some time before she did with her lips; for, to tell the truth, Polly had a spice of girlish malice94, and rather liked to see domineering Tom eat humble95-pie, just enough to do him good, you know. She felt that atonement was proper, and considered it no more than just that Fan should drench96 a handkerchief or two with repentant97 tears, and that Tom should sit on a very uncomfortable seat and call himself hard names for five or ten minutes before she relented.
"Come, now, do say a word to a fellow. I'm getting the worst of it, anyway; for there's Fan, crying her eyes out upstairs, and here are you stowed away in a dark closet as dumb as a fish, and nobody but me to bring you both round. I'd have cut over to the Smythes and got ma home to fix things, only it looked like backing out of the scrape; so I did n't," said Tom, as a last appeal.
Polly was glad to hear that Fan was crying. It would do her good; but she could n't help softening98 to Tom, who did seem in a predicament between two weeping damsels. A little smile began to dimple the cheek that was n't hidden, and then a hand came slowly out from under the curly head, and was stretched toward him silently. Tom was just going to give it a hearty99 shake, when he saw a red mark on the wrist, and knew what made it. His face changed, and he took the chubby100 hand so gently, that Polly peeped to see what it meant.
"Will you forgive that, too?" he asked, in a whisper, stroking the red wrist.
"Yes, it don't hurt much now." And Polly drew her hand away, sorry he had seen it.
"I was a beast, that's what I was!" said Tom, in a tone of great disgust. And just at that awkward minute down tumbled his father's old beaver101 over his head and face, putting a comical quencher102 on his self-reproaches. Of course, neither could help laughing at that; and when he emerged, Polly was sitting up, looking as much better for her shower as he did for his momentary103 eclipse.
"Fan feels dreadfully. Will you kiss and be friends, if I trot104 her down?" asked Tom, remembering his fellow-sinner.
"I'll go to her." And Polly whisked out of the closet as suddenly as she had whisked in, leaving Tom sitting on the boot-jack, with a radiant countenance105.
How the girls made it up no one ever knew. But after much talking and crying, kissing and laughing, the breach106 was healed, and peace declared. A slight haze107 still lingered in the air after the storm, for Fanny was very humble and tender that evening; Tom a trifle pensive108, but distressingly109 polite, and Polly magnanimously friendly to every one; for generous natures like to forgive, and Polly enjoyed the petting after the insult, like a very human girl.
As she was brushing her hair at bedtime there came a tap on her door and, opening it, she beheld110 nothing but a tall black bottle, with a strip of red flannel111 tied round it like a cravat112, and a cocked-hat note on the cork113. Inside were these lines, written in a sprawling114 hand with very black ink:
DEAR POLLY, Opydilldock is first-rate for sprains115. You put a lot on the flannel and do up your wrist, and I guess it will be all right in the morning. Will you come a sleigh-ride tomorrow? I'm awful sorry I hurt you.
TOM
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acting
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| n.演戏，行为，假装；adj.代理的，临时的，演出用的 | |
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mishap
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| n.不幸的事，不幸；灾祸 | |
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virtue
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| n.德行，美德；贞操；优点；功效，效力 | |
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tribulation
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| n.苦难，灾难 | |
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afterward
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| adv.后来；以后 | |
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helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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bouquet
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| n.花束，酒香 | |
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smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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heliotrope
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| n.天芥菜；淡紫色 | |
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concealment
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| n.隐藏, 掩盖，隐瞒 | |
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straightforward
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| adj.正直的，坦率的；易懂的，简单的 | |
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sentimental
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| adj.多愁善感的，感伤的 | |
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stammered
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| v.结巴地说出( stammer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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poke
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| n.刺，戳，袋；vt.拨开，刺，戳；vi.戳，刺，捅，搜索，伸出，行动散慢 | |
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meek
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| adj.温顺的，逆来顺受的 | |
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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eyebrows
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| 眉毛( eyebrow的名词复数 ) | |
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vent
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| n.通风口，排放口；开衩；vt.表达，发泄 | |
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distress
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| n.苦恼，痛苦，不舒适；不幸；vt.使悲痛 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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21
sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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22
reluctance
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| n.厌恶，讨厌，勉强，不情愿 | |
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23
twitched
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| vt.& vi.（使）抽动，（使）颤动（twitch的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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24
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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25
pettishly
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26
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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27
folly
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| n.愚笨，愚蠢，蠢事，蠢行，傻话 | |
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28
ingratitude
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| n.忘恩负义 | |
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29
injustice
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| n.非正义，不公正，不公平，侵犯（别人的）权利 | |
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30
proceeding
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| n.行动，进行，(pl.)会议录，学报 | |
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31
adorned
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| [计]被修饰的 | |
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32
awfully
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| adv.可怕地，非常地，极端地 | |
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33
perjured
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| adj.伪证的，犯伪证罪的v.发假誓，作伪证( perjure的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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34
exulting
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| vi. 欢欣鼓舞，狂喜 | |
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35
stratagem
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| n.诡计，计谋 | |
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36
rummaged
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| 翻找，搜寻( rummage的过去式和过去分词 )； 已经海关检查 | |
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37
inquisitive
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| adj.求知欲强的，好奇的，好寻根究底的 | |
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38
deluged
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| v.使淹没( deluge的过去式和过去分词 )；淹没；被洪水般涌来的事物所淹没；穷于应付 | |
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39
ravages
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| 劫掠后的残迹，破坏的结果，毁坏后的残迹 | |
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40
revelled
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| v.作乐( revel的过去式和过去分词 )；狂欢；着迷；陶醉 | |
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41
pricking
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| 刺，刺痕，刺痛感 | |
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42
chuckling
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| 轻声地笑( chuckle的现在分词 ) | |
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43
iniquity
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| n.邪恶；不公正 | |
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44
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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45
heartily
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| adv.衷心地，诚恳地，十分，很 | |
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46
parlor
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| n.店铺，营业室；会客室，客厅 | |
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47
lark
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| n.云雀，百灵鸟；n.嬉戏，玩笑；vi.嬉戏 | |
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48
pranced
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| v.（马）腾跃( prance的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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49
gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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50
mortify
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| v.克制，禁欲，使受辱 | |
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51
prim
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| adj.拘泥形式的，一本正经的；n.循规蹈矩，整洁；adv.循规蹈矩地，整洁地 | |
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52
defiantly
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| adv.挑战地，大胆对抗地 | |
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53
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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54
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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55
vouchsafed
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| v.给予，赐予( vouchsafe的过去式和过去分词 )；允诺 | |
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56
valiantly
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| adv.勇敢地，英勇地；雄赳赳 | |
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57
giggle
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| n.痴笑，咯咯地笑；v.咯咯地笑着说 | |
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58
giggled
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| v.咯咯地笑( giggle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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59
stoutly
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| adv.牢固地，粗壮的 | |
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60
irresistible
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| adj.非常诱人的，无法拒绝的，无法抗拒的 | |
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61
groan
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| vi./n.呻吟，抱怨；(发出)呻吟般的声音 | |
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62
sprained
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| v.&n. 扭伤 | |
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63
relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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64
solaced
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| v.安慰，慰藉( solace的过去分词 ) | |
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65
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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66
chide
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| v.叱责；谴责 | |
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67
ingenuity
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| n.别出心裁；善于发明创造 | |
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68
atone
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| v.赎罪，补偿 | |
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69
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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70
whittled
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| v.切，削（木头），使逐渐变小( whittle的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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71
accomplishments
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| n.造诣；完成( accomplishment的名词复数 )；技能；成绩；成就 | |
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72
droll
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| adj.古怪的，好笑的 | |
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73
sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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74
gutter
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| n.沟，街沟，水槽，檐槽，贫民窟 | |
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75
ridicule
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| v.讥讽，挖苦；n.嘲弄 | |
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76
nettled
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| v.拿荨麻打，拿荨麻刺（nettle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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77
retaliation
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| n.报复，反击 | |
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78
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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79
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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80
blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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81
petulance
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| n.发脾气，生气，易怒，暴躁，性急 | |
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82
kindled
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| （使某物）燃烧，着火( kindle的过去式和过去分词 )； 激起（感情等）； 发亮，放光 | |
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83
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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84
odds
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| n.让步，机率，可能性，比率；胜败优劣之别 | |
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85
confessions
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| n.承认( confession的名词复数 )；自首；声明；（向神父的）忏悔 | |
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86
sobbing
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| <主方>Ⅰ adj.湿透的 | |
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87
transgressions
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| n.违反，违法，罪过( transgression的名词复数 ) | |
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88
remorse
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| n.痛恨，悔恨，自责 | |
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89
remorseful
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| adj.悔恨的 | |
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90
poked
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| v.伸出( poke的过去式和过去分词 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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91
penitent
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| adj.后悔的；n.后悔者；忏悔者 | |
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92
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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93
frankly
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| adv.坦白地，直率地；坦率地说 | |
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94
malice
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| n.恶意，怨恨，蓄意；[律]预谋 | |
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95
humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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96
drench
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| v.使淋透，使湿透 | |
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97
repentant
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| adj.对…感到悔恨的 | |
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98
softening
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| 变软，软化 | |
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99
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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100
chubby
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| adj.丰满的，圆胖的 | |
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101
beaver
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| n.海狸，河狸 | |
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102
quencher
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| 淬火，骤冷； 猝灭 | |
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103
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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104
trot
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| n.疾走，慢跑；n.老太婆；现成译本；(复数）trots:腹泻（与the 连用）；v.小跑，快步走，赶紧 | |
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105
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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106
breach
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| n.违反，不履行；破裂；vt.冲破，攻破 | |
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107
haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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108
pensive
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| a.沉思的,哀思的,忧沉的 | |
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109
distressingly
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| adv. 令人苦恼地；悲惨地 | |
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110
beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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111
flannel
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| n.法兰绒；法兰绒衣服 | |
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112
cravat
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| n.领巾，领结；v.使穿有领结的服装，使结领结 | |
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113
cork
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| n.软木，软木塞 | |
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114
sprawling
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| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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115
sprains
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| 扭伤( sprain的名词复数 ) | |
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