Market Harborough, and Inside the BarWhyte-Melville, G. J. (George John)
General
Market Harborough, and Inside the Bar
Whyte-Melville, G. J. (George John)
Country life -- England -- Fiction; English fiction -- 19th century; Fox hunting -- Fiction
looked back either, which was sufficiently provoking. No; she rode on,
always in the same calm business-like manner, perfectly quiet, and
perfectly straight. She cured me of following her, though, after a time;
for I found it safer and easier to skirt a little, with the generality
of the other sportsmen, so as to come in somewhere at the finish, and
take my chance of riding with her part of the way home.
“It was hard that such devotion as mine should not have met with better
success. You, my dear Softly, who are fond of that uncomfortable
diversion which men call hunting, can scarcely appreciate what I had to
undergo; but when I tell you that in addition to unintermitting
agitation of mind, I suffered from constant abrasion of body, you will
pity, though you cannot sympathise with, my distress. Apprehension,
amounting to actual _funk_, is a disagreeable sensation enough; but to
be partially flayed alive, and that on portions of the person called
into daily use by a man of sedentary habits, amounts to a cruel and
unbearable infliction. I wonder whether she ever pitied me! I am
inclined to think she scarcely thought about me at all.
“At one time, however, our acquaintance seemed likely to ripen into
intimacy; and it happened that at the same period a detachment from a
regiment of Hussars was quartered in our neighbourhood. The Captain
hunted of course, so did the Lieutenant; and two harder riders never
dirtied their coats with the X.Y.Z., nor washed them, when dirty, in the
Swimley brook. Also they danced, dined, drank, and flirted, as is the
custom of their kind. But the Cornet was an exception to the rule.
Strange anomaly! a Cornet of Hussars, who seldom, when off duty, got
upon a horse; who did not waltz or give conundrums, or squeeze young
ladies’ hands; who retired from mess early, not to smoke nor play whist,
nor get into scrapes, but to practise on the pianoforte; whose general
appearance was sedate and steady, though, to do him justice, he was a
good-looking fellow enough, in a manly Anglo-Saxon style, and, in short,
whose whole character and habits appeared more those of a travelling
tutor than a dissipated young officer of Dragoons.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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