章节正文
"Ah, but one doesn't make laws. It's a great humbug."
"I don't believe that," the young girl declared.
"It must be a great privilege, and I should think that if one
thought of it in the right way--from a high point of view--
it would be very inspiring."
"The less one thinks of it, the better," Lord Lambeth affirmed.
"I think it's tremendous," said Bessie Alden; and on
another occasion she asked him if he had any tenantry.
Hereupon it was that, as I have said, he was a little bored.
"Do you want to buy up their leases?" he asked.
"Well, have you got any livings?" she demanded.
"Oh, I say!" he cried. "Have you got a clergyman that is looking out?"
But she made him tell her that he had a castle; he confessed to but one.
It was the place in which he had been born and brought up, and, as he had
an old-timeliking for it, he was beguiled into describing it a little
and saying it was really very jolly. Bessie Alden listened with great
interest and declared that she would give the world to see such a place.
Whereupon--"It would be awfully kind of you to come and stay there,"
said Lord Lambeth. He took a vague satisfaction in the circumstance
that Percy Beaumont had not heard him make the remark I have just recorded.
Mr. Westgate all this time had not, as they said at Newport, "come on."
His wife more than once announced that she expected him on the morrow;
but on the morrow she wandered about a little, with a telegram in her
jeweled fingers, declaring it was very tiresome that his business detained him
in New York; that he could only hope the Englishmen were having a good time.
"I must say," said Mrs. Westgate, "that it is no thanks to him if you are."
And she went on to explain, while she continued that slow-paced
promenade which enabled her well-adjusted skirts to display themselves
so advantageously, that unfortunately in America there was no leisure class.
It was Lord Lambeth's theory, freely propounded when the young men
were together, that Percy Beaumont was having a very good time with
Mrs. Westgate, and that, under the pretext of meeting for the purpose
of animateddiscussion, they were indulging in practices that imparted
a shade of hypocrisy to the lady's regret for her husband's absence.
"I assure you we are always discussing and differing,"
said Percy Beaumont. "She is awfully argumentative.
American ladies certainly don't mind contradicting you.
Upon my word I don't think I was ever treated so by a woman before.
She's so devilishpositive."
Mrs. Westgate's positive quality, however, evidently had
its attractions, for Beaumont was constantly at his hostess's side.
He detached himself one day to the extent of going to New
York to talk over the Tennessee Central with Mr. Westgate;
but he was absent only forty-eight hours, during which,
with Mr. Westgate's assistance, he completely settled this piece
of business. "They certainly do things quickly in New York,"
he observed to his cousin; and he added that Mr. Westgate
had seemed very uneasy lest his wife should miss her visitor--
he had been in such an awful hurry to send him back to her.
"I'm afraid you'll never come up to an American husband,
if that's what the wives expect," he said to Lord Lambeth.
Mrs. Westgate, however, was not to enjoy much longer the entertainment
with which an indulgent husband had desired to keep her provided.
On the 21st of August Lord Lambeth received a telegram from his mother,
requesting him to return immediately to England; his father had been
taken ill, and it was his filial duty to come to him.
The young Englishman was visibly annoyed. "What the deuce does it mean?"
he asked of his kinsman. "What am I to do?"
Percy Beaumont was annoyed as well; he had deemed it his duty,
as I have narrated, to write to the duchess, but he had not expected
that this distinguished woman would act so promptly upon his hint.
"It means," he said, "that your father is laid up.
I don't suppose it's anything serious; but you have no option.
Take the first steamer; but don't be alarmed.
Lord Lambeth made his farewells; but the few last words that he exchanged
with Bessie Alden are the only ones that have a place in our record.
"Of course I needn't assure you," he said, "that if you should come to England
next year, I expect to be the first person that you inform of it."
Bessie Alden looked at him a little, and she smiled.
"Oh, if we come to London," she answered, "I should think you
would hear of it."
Percy Beaumont returned with his cousin, and his sense of duty
compelled him, one windless afternoon, in mid-Atlantic, to say
to Lord Lambeth that he suspected that the duchess's telegram was
in part the result of something he himself had written to her.
"I wrote to her--as I explicitly notified you I had promised to do--
that you were extremely interested in a little American girl."
Lord Lambeth was extremely angry, and he indulged for some
moments in the simple language of indignation. But I have said
that he was a reasonable young man, and I can give no better
proof of it than the fact that he remarked to his companion
at the end of half an hour, "You were quite right, after all.
I am very much interested in her. Only, to be fair,"
he added, "you should have told my mother also that she
is not--seriously--interested in me."
Percy Beaumont gave a little laugh. "There is nothing
so charming as modesty in a young man in your position.
That speech is a capital proof that you are sweet on her."
"She is not interested--she is not!" Lord Lambeth repeated.
"My dear fellow," said his companion, "you are very far gone."
PART II
In point of fact, as Percy Beaumont would have said,
Mrs. Westgate disembarked on the 18th of May on
the British coast. She was accompanied by her sister,
but she was not attended by any other member of her family.
To the deprivation of her husband's society Mrs. Westgate was,
however, habituated; she had made half a dozen journeys
to Europe without him, and she now accounted for his absence,
to interrogative friends on this side of the Atlantic,
by allusion to the regrettable but conspicuous fact that in
America there was no leisure class. The two ladies came up
to London and alighted at Jones's Hotel, where Mrs. Westgate,
who had made on former occasions the most agreeable impression
at this establishment, received an obsequious greeting.
Bessie Alden had felt much excited about coming to England;
she had expected the "associations" would be very charming,
that it would be an infinite pleasure to rest her eyes upon
the things she had read about in the poets and historians.
She was very fond of the poets and historians, of the picturesque,
of the past, of retrospect, of mementos and reverberations
of greatness; so that on coming into the English world,
where strangeness and familiarity would go hand in hand,
she was prepared for a multitude of fresh emotions.
They began very promptly--these tender, fluttering sensations;
they began with the sight of the beautiful English landscape,
whose dark richness was quickened and brightened by the season;
with the carpeted fields and flowering hedgerows, as she
looked at them from the window of the train; with the spires
of the rural churches peeping above the rook-haunted treetops;
with the oak-studded parks, the ancient homes, the cloudy light,
the speech, the manners, the thousand differences.
Mrs. Westgate's impressions had, of course, much less novelty
and keenness, and she gave but a wandering attention to her
sister's ejaculations and rhapsodies.
"You know my enjoyment of England is not so intellectual as Bessie's," she
said to several of her friends in the course of her visit to this country.
"And yet if it is not intellectual, I can't say it is physical.
I don't think I can quite say what it is, my enjoyment of England."
When once it was settled that the two ladies should come abroad and should
spend a few weeks in England on their way to the Continent, they of course
exchanged a good many allusions to their London acquaintance.
"It will certainly be much nicer having friends there,"
Bessie Alden had said one day as she sat on the sunny deck
of the steamer at her sister's feet on a large blue rug.
"Whom do you mean by friends?" Mrs. Westgate asked.
"All those English gentlemen whom you have known and entertained.
Captain Littledale, for instance. And Lord Lambeth and Mr. Beaumont,"
added Bessie Alden.
"Do you expect them to give us a very grand reception?"
Bessie reflected a moment; she was addicted, as we know,
to reflection. "Well, yes."
"My poor, sweet child," murmured her sister.
"What have I said that is so silly?" asked Bessie.
"You are a little too simple; just a little. It is very becoming,
but it pleases people at your expense."
"I am certainly too simple to understand you," said Bessie.
"Shall I tell you a story?" asked her sister.
"If you would be so good. That is what they do to amuse simple people."
Mrs. Westgate consulted her memory, while her companion sat gazing
at the shining sea. "Did you ever hear of the Duke of Green-Erin?"
"I think not," said Bessie.
"Well, it's no matter," her sister went on.
"It's a proof of my simplicity."
"My story is meant to illustrate that of some other people,"
said Mrs. Westgate. "The Duke of Green-Erin is what they call in
England a great swell, and some five years ago he came to America.
He spent most of his time in New York, and in New York he spent his
days and his nights at the Butterworths'. You have heard, at least,
of the Butterworths. Bien. They did everything in the world for him--
they turned themselves inside out. They gave him a dozen dinner parties
and balls and were the means of his being invited to fifty more.
At first he used to come into Mrs. Butterworth's box at the opera
in a tweed traveling suit; but someone stopped that. At any rate,
he had a beautiful time, and they parted the best friends in the world.
Two years elapse, and the Butterworths come abroad and go to London.
The first thing they see in all the papers--in England those things
are in the most prominent place--is that the Duke of Green-Erin
has arrived in town for the Season. They wait a little, and then
Mr. Butterworth--as polite as ever--goes and leaves a card.
They wait a little more; the visit is not returned; they wait
three weeks--silence de mort--the Duke gives no sign.
The Butterworths see a lot of other people, put down the Duke
of Green-Erin as a rude, ungrateful man, and forget all about him.
One fine day they go to Ascot Races, and there they meet him face
to face. He stares a moment and then comes up to Mr. Butterworth,
taking something from his pocketbook--something which proves
to be a banknote. 'I'm glad to see you, Mr. Butterworth,' he says,
'so that I can pay you that ten pounds I lost to you in New York.
I saw the other day you remembered our bet; here are the ten pounds,
Mr. Butterworth. Goodbye, Mr. Butterworth.' And off he goes,
and that's the last they see of the Duke of Green-Erin."
"Is that your story?" asked Bessie Alden.
"Don't you think it's interesting?" her sister replied.
"I don't believe it," said the young girl.
"Ah," cried Mrs. Westgate, "you are not so simple after all!
Believe it or not, as you please; there is no smoke without fire."
"Is that the way," asked Bessie after a moment, "that you expect
your friends to treat you?"
"I defy them to treat me very ill, because I shall not give
them the opportunity. With the best will in the world,
in that case they can't be very offensive."
Bessie Alden was silent a moment. "I don't see what makes you talk that way,"
she said. "The English are a great people."
"Exactly; and that is just the way they have grown great--
by dropping you when you have ceased to be useful.
People say they are not clever; but I think they are very clever."
"You know you have liked them--all the Englishmen you have seen," said Bessie.
"They have liked me," her sister rejoined; "it would be more correct
to say that. And, of course, one likes that."
Bessie Alden resumed for some moments her studies in sea green.
"Well," she said, "whether they like me or not, I mean to like them.
"I don't believe that," the young girl declared.
"It must be a great privilege, and I should think that if one
thought of it in the right way--from a high point of view--
it would be very inspiring."
"The less one thinks of it, the better," Lord Lambeth affirmed.
"I think it's tremendous," said Bessie Alden; and on
another occasion she asked him if he had any tenantry.
Hereupon it was that, as I have said, he was a little bored.
"Do you want to buy up their leases?" he asked.
"Well, have you got any livings?" she demanded.
"Oh, I say!" he cried. "Have you got a clergyman that is looking out?"
But she made him tell her that he had a castle; he confessed to but one.
It was the place in which he had been born and brought up, and, as he had
an old-timeliking for it, he was beguiled into describing it a little
and saying it was really very jolly. Bessie Alden listened with great
interest and declared that she would give the world to see such a place.
Whereupon--"It would be awfully kind of you to come and stay there,"
said Lord Lambeth. He took a vague satisfaction in the circumstance
that Percy Beaumont had not heard him make the remark I have just recorded.
Mr. Westgate all this time had not, as they said at Newport, "come on."
His wife more than once announced that she expected him on the morrow;
but on the morrow she wandered about a little, with a telegram in her
jeweled fingers, declaring it was very tiresome that his business detained him
in New York; that he could only hope the Englishmen were having a good time.
"I must say," said Mrs. Westgate, "that it is no thanks to him if you are."
And she went on to explain, while she continued that slow-paced
promenade which enabled her well-adjusted skirts to display themselves
so advantageously, that unfortunately in America there was no leisure class.
It was Lord Lambeth's theory, freely propounded when the young men
were together, that Percy Beaumont was having a very good time with
Mrs. Westgate, and that, under the pretext of meeting for the purpose
of animateddiscussion, they were indulging in practices that imparted
a shade of hypocrisy to the lady's regret for her husband's absence.
"I assure you we are always discussing and differing,"
said Percy Beaumont. "She is awfully argumentative.
American ladies certainly don't mind contradicting you.
Upon my word I don't think I was ever treated so by a woman before.
She's so devilishpositive."
Mrs. Westgate's positive quality, however, evidently had
its attractions, for Beaumont was constantly at his hostess's side.
He detached himself one day to the extent of going to New
York to talk over the Tennessee Central with Mr. Westgate;
but he was absent only forty-eight hours, during which,
with Mr. Westgate's assistance, he completely settled this piece
of business. "They certainly do things quickly in New York,"
he observed to his cousin; and he added that Mr. Westgate
had seemed very uneasy lest his wife should miss her visitor--
he had been in such an awful hurry to send him back to her.
"I'm afraid you'll never come up to an American husband,
if that's what the wives expect," he said to Lord Lambeth.
Mrs. Westgate, however, was not to enjoy much longer the entertainment
with which an indulgent husband had desired to keep her provided.
On the 21st of August Lord Lambeth received a telegram from his mother,
requesting him to return immediately to England; his father had been
taken ill, and it was his filial duty to come to him.
The young Englishman was visibly annoyed. "What the deuce does it mean?"
he asked of his kinsman. "What am I to do?"
Percy Beaumont was annoyed as well; he had deemed it his duty,
as I have narrated, to write to the duchess, but he had not expected
that this distinguished woman would act so promptly upon his hint.
"It means," he said, "that your father is laid up.
I don't suppose it's anything serious; but you have no option.
Take the first steamer; but don't be alarmed.
Lord Lambeth made his farewells; but the few last words that he exchanged
with Bessie Alden are the only ones that have a place in our record.
"Of course I needn't assure you," he said, "that if you should come to England
next year, I expect to be the first person that you inform of it."
Bessie Alden looked at him a little, and she smiled.
"Oh, if we come to London," she answered, "I should think you
would hear of it."
Percy Beaumont returned with his cousin, and his sense of duty
compelled him, one windless afternoon, in mid-Atlantic, to say
to Lord Lambeth that he suspected that the duchess's telegram was
in part the result of something he himself had written to her.
"I wrote to her--as I explicitly notified you I had promised to do--
that you were extremely interested in a little American girl."
Lord Lambeth was extremely angry, and he indulged for some
moments in the simple language of indignation. But I have said
that he was a reasonable young man, and I can give no better
proof of it than the fact that he remarked to his companion
at the end of half an hour, "You were quite right, after all.
I am very much interested in her. Only, to be fair,"
he added, "you should have told my mother also that she
is not--seriously--interested in me."
Percy Beaumont gave a little laugh. "There is nothing
so charming as modesty in a young man in your position.
That speech is a capital proof that you are sweet on her."
"She is not interested--she is not!" Lord Lambeth repeated.
"My dear fellow," said his companion, "you are very far gone."
PART II
In point of fact, as Percy Beaumont would have said,
Mrs. Westgate disembarked on the 18th of May on
the British coast. She was accompanied by her sister,
but she was not attended by any other member of her family.
To the deprivation of her husband's society Mrs. Westgate was,
however, habituated; she had made half a dozen journeys
to Europe without him, and she now accounted for his absence,
to interrogative friends on this side of the Atlantic,
by allusion to the regrettable but conspicuous fact that in
America there was no leisure class. The two ladies came up
to London and alighted at Jones's Hotel, where Mrs. Westgate,
who had made on former occasions the most agreeable impression
at this establishment, received an obsequious greeting.
Bessie Alden had felt much excited about coming to England;
she had expected the "associations" would be very charming,
that it would be an infinite pleasure to rest her eyes upon
the things she had read about in the poets and historians.
She was very fond of the poets and historians, of the picturesque,
of the past, of retrospect, of mementos and reverberations
of greatness; so that on coming into the English world,
where strangeness and familiarity would go hand in hand,
she was prepared for a multitude of fresh emotions.
They began very promptly--these tender, fluttering sensations;
they began with the sight of the beautiful English landscape,
whose dark richness was quickened and brightened by the season;
with the carpeted fields and flowering hedgerows, as she
looked at them from the window of the train; with the spires
of the rural churches peeping above the rook-haunted treetops;
with the oak-studded parks, the ancient homes, the cloudy light,
the speech, the manners, the thousand differences.
Mrs. Westgate's impressions had, of course, much less novelty
and keenness, and she gave but a wandering attention to her
sister's ejaculations and rhapsodies.
"You know my enjoyment of England is not so intellectual as Bessie's," she
said to several of her friends in the course of her visit to this country.
"And yet if it is not intellectual, I can't say it is physical.
I don't think I can quite say what it is, my enjoyment of England."
When once it was settled that the two ladies should come abroad and should
spend a few weeks in England on their way to the Continent, they of course
exchanged a good many allusions to their London acquaintance.
"It will certainly be much nicer having friends there,"
Bessie Alden had said one day as she sat on the sunny deck
of the steamer at her sister's feet on a large blue rug.
"Whom do you mean by friends?" Mrs. Westgate asked.
"All those English gentlemen whom you have known and entertained.
Captain Littledale, for instance. And Lord Lambeth and Mr. Beaumont,"
added Bessie Alden.
"Do you expect them to give us a very grand reception?"
Bessie reflected a moment; she was addicted, as we know,
to reflection. "Well, yes."
"My poor, sweet child," murmured her sister.
"What have I said that is so silly?" asked Bessie.
"You are a little too simple; just a little. It is very becoming,
but it pleases people at your expense."
"I am certainly too simple to understand you," said Bessie.
"Shall I tell you a story?" asked her sister.
"If you would be so good. That is what they do to amuse simple people."
Mrs. Westgate consulted her memory, while her companion sat gazing
at the shining sea. "Did you ever hear of the Duke of Green-Erin?"
"I think not," said Bessie.
"Well, it's no matter," her sister went on.
"It's a proof of my simplicity."
"My story is meant to illustrate that of some other people,"
said Mrs. Westgate. "The Duke of Green-Erin is what they call in
England a great swell, and some five years ago he came to America.
He spent most of his time in New York, and in New York he spent his
days and his nights at the Butterworths'. You have heard, at least,
of the Butterworths. Bien. They did everything in the world for him--
they turned themselves inside out. They gave him a dozen dinner parties
and balls and were the means of his being invited to fifty more.
At first he used to come into Mrs. Butterworth's box at the opera
in a tweed traveling suit; but someone stopped that. At any rate,
he had a beautiful time, and they parted the best friends in the world.
Two years elapse, and the Butterworths come abroad and go to London.
The first thing they see in all the papers--in England those things
are in the most prominent place--is that the Duke of Green-Erin
has arrived in town for the Season. They wait a little, and then
Mr. Butterworth--as polite as ever--goes and leaves a card.
They wait a little more; the visit is not returned; they wait
three weeks--silence de mort--the Duke gives no sign.
The Butterworths see a lot of other people, put down the Duke
of Green-Erin as a rude, ungrateful man, and forget all about him.
One fine day they go to Ascot Races, and there they meet him face
to face. He stares a moment and then comes up to Mr. Butterworth,
taking something from his pocketbook--something which proves
to be a banknote. 'I'm glad to see you, Mr. Butterworth,' he says,
'so that I can pay you that ten pounds I lost to you in New York.
I saw the other day you remembered our bet; here are the ten pounds,
Mr. Butterworth. Goodbye, Mr. Butterworth.' And off he goes,
and that's the last they see of the Duke of Green-Erin."
"Is that your story?" asked Bessie Alden.
"Don't you think it's interesting?" her sister replied.
"I don't believe it," said the young girl.
"Ah," cried Mrs. Westgate, "you are not so simple after all!
Believe it or not, as you please; there is no smoke without fire."
"Is that the way," asked Bessie after a moment, "that you expect
your friends to treat you?"
"I defy them to treat me very ill, because I shall not give
them the opportunity. With the best will in the world,
in that case they can't be very offensive."
Bessie Alden was silent a moment. "I don't see what makes you talk that way,"
she said. "The English are a great people."
"Exactly; and that is just the way they have grown great--
by dropping you when you have ceased to be useful.
People say they are not clever; but I think they are very clever."
"You know you have liked them--all the Englishmen you have seen," said Bessie.
"They have liked me," her sister rejoined; "it would be more correct
to say that. And, of course, one likes that."
Bessie Alden resumed for some moments her studies in sea green.
"Well," she said, "whether they like me or not, I mean to like them.
- privilege [´privilidʒ]
n.特权 vt.给....特权 (初中英语单词) - satisfaction [,sætis´fækʃən] n.满意；满足 (初中英语单词)
- telegram [´teligræm] n.电报 (初中英语单词)
- freely [´fri:li] ad.自由地；慷慨地 (初中英语单词)
- discussion [di´skʌʃən] n.讨论；辩论 (初中英语单词)
- evidently [´evidəntli] ad.明显地 (初中英语单词)
- constantly [´kɔnstəntli] ad.经常地；不断地 (初中英语单词)
- extent [ik´stent] n.长度；程度；范围 (初中英语单词)
- absent [´æbsənt, əb´sent] a.不在的 vt.使缺席 (初中英语单词)
- assistance [ə´sistəns] n.协作；援助；帮助 (初中英语单词)
- promptly [´prɔmptli] ad.敏捷地；即时地 (初中英语单词)
- steamer [´sti:mə] n.汽船；轮船；蒸笼 (初中英语单词)
- extremely [ik´stri:mli] ad.极端地；非常地 (初中英语单词)
- reasonable [´rizənəbəl] a.合理的；有理智的 (初中英语单词)
- charming [´tʃɑ:miŋ] a.可爱的；极好的 (初中英语单词)
- companion [kəm´pæniən] n.同伴；同事；伴侣 (初中英语单词)
- agreeable [ə´gri:əbəl] a.适合的；符合的 (初中英语单词)
- establishment [i´stæbliʃmənt] n.建(成)立；研究所 (初中英语单词)
- multitude [´mʌltitju:d] n.大群(批)；众多 (初中英语单词)
- abroad [ə´brɔ:d] ad.海外；到处；广泛 (初中英语单词)
- continent [´kɔntinənt] n.大陆，陆地 (初中英语单词)
- instance [´instəns] n.例子，实例，例证 (初中英语单词)
- reflection [ri´flekʃən] n.反射；映象；想法 (初中英语单词)
- illustrate [´iləstreit] vt.加插图；举例说明 (初中英语单词)
- prominent [´prɔminənt] a.突起的；凸出的 (初中英语单词)
- polite [pə´lait] a.有礼貌的；温和的 (初中英语单词)
- banknote [´bæŋknəut] n.纸币 (初中英语单词)
- clergyman [´klə:dʒimən] n.牧师；教士 (高中英语单词)
- saying [´seiŋ, ´sei-iŋ] n.言语；言论；格言 (高中英语单词)
- awfully [´ɔ:fuli] ad.令人畏惧地 (高中英语单词)
- unfortunately [ʌn´fɔ:tʃunitli] ad.不幸；不朽；可惜 (高中英语单词)
- leisure [´leʒə] n.空闲；悠闲；安定 (高中英语单词)
- positive [´pɔzətiv] a.确定的 (高中英语单词)
- uneasy [ʌn´i:zi] a.不安的；不自在的 (高中英语单词)
- duchess [´dʌtʃis] n.公爵夫人；女公爵 (高中英语单词)
- distinguished [di´stiŋgwiʃt] a.卓越的，著名的 (高中英语单词)
- indignation [,indig´neiʃən] n.愤慨；气愤 (高中英语单词)
- conspicuous [kən´spikjuəs] a.显著的；出众的 (高中英语单词)
- infinite [´infinit] a.无限的，无穷的 (高中英语单词)
- greatness [´greitnis] n.巨大；高尚；卓越 (高中英语单词)
- enjoyment [in´dʒɔimənt] n.享受；愉快；乐趣 (高中英语单词)
- intellectual [,inti´lektʃuəl] n.知识分子 (高中英语单词)
- old-time [´əuld-´taim] a.老资格的；古时的 (英语四级单词)
- morrow [´mɔrəu] n.翌日 (英语四级单词)
- tiresome [´taiəsəm] a.令人厌倦的；讨厌的 (英语四级单词)
- modesty [´mɔdisti] n.谨慎；端庄；羞怯 (英语四级单词)
- allusion [ə´lu:ʒən] n.暗指；提及；引喻 (英语四级单词)
- elapse [i´læps] n.&vi.(时间)流逝 (英语四级单词)
- liking [´laikiŋ] n.爱好；嗜好；喜欢 (英语六级单词)
- animated [´ænimeitid] a.栩栩如生的；活跃的 (英语六级单词)
- hypocrisy [hi´pɔkrisi] n.伪善 (英语六级单词)
- devilish [´devəliʃ] a.魔鬼般的，凶恶的 (英语六级单词)
- august [ɔ:´gʌst] a.尊严的；威严的 (英语六级单词)
- filial [´filiəl] a.子女的；孝顺的 (英语六级单词)
- familiarity [fə,mili´æriti] n.熟悉；新近；随便 (英语六级单词)
- richness [´ritʃnis] n.富饶；富裕；华美 (英语六级单词)
文章标签:名著
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