Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Short stories, English
Produced by Charles Keller. HTML version by Al Haines.
FRIVOLOUS CUPID
BY
SIR ANTHONY HOPE HAWKINS
(ANTHONY HOPE, PSEUD.)
Cupid, I met thee yesterday
With an empty quiver,
Coming from Clarinda's house
By the reedy river.
And I saw Clarinda stand
Near the pansies, weeping,
With her hands upon her breast
All thine arrows keeping.
CONTENTS
I. RELUCTANCE
II. WHY MEN DON'T MARRY
III. A CHANGE OF HEART
IV. A REPENTANT SINNER
V. 'TWIXT WILL AND WILL NOT
VI. WHICH SHALL IT BE?
VII. MARRIAGE BY COMPULSION
VIII. ALL'S WELL THAT ENDS WELL
FRIVOLOUS CUPID.
I.
RELUCTANCE.
I.
Neither life nor the lawn-tennis club was so full at Natterley that the
news of Harry Sterling's return had not some importance.
He came back, moreover, to assume a position very different from his
old one. He had left Harrow now, departing in the sweet aroma of a
long score against Eton at Lord's, and was to go up to Oxford in
October. Now between a schoolboy and a University man there is a gulf,
indicated unmistakably by the cigarette which adorned Harry's mouth as
he walked down the street with a newly acquiescent father, and
thoroughly realized by his old playmates. The young men greeted him as
an equal, the boys grudgingly accepted his superiority, and the girls
received him much as though they had never met him before in their
lives and were pressingly in need of an introduction. These features
of his reappearance amused Mrs. Mortimer; she recollected him as an
untidy, shy, pretty boy; but mind, working on matter, had so
transformed him that she was doubtful enough about him to ask her
husband if that were really Harry Sterling.
Mr. Mortimer, mopping his bald head after one of his energetic failures
at lawn tennis, grunted assent, and remarked that a few years more
would see a like development in their elder son, a remark which
bordered on absurdity; for Johnny was but eight, and ten years are not
a few years to a lady of twenty-eight, whatever they may seem to a man
of forty-four.
Presently Harry, shaking himself free from an entangling group of the
Vicarage girls, joined his father, and the two came across to Mrs.
Mortimer.
She was a favorite of old Sterling's, and he was proud to present his
handsome son to her. She listened graciously to his jocosities,
stealing a glance at Harry when his father called him "a good boy."
Harry blushed and assumed an air of indifference, tossing his hair back
from his smooth forehead, and swinging his racket carelessly in his
hand. The lady addressed some words of patronizing kindness to him,
seeking to put him at his ease. She seemed to succeed to some extent,
for he let his father and her husband go off together, and sat down by
her on the bench, regardless of the fact that the Vicarage girls were
waiting for him to make a fourth.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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