章节正文
Frivolous Cupid
by Anthony Hope [Hawkins]
FRIVOLOUS CUPID
BY
SIR ANTHONY HOPE HAWKINS
(ANTHONY HOPE, PSEUD.)
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
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.
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" target="_blank" title="n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论">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.
He said nothing, and Mrs. Mortimer looked at him from under her
long lashes; in so doing she discovered that he was looking at
her.
"Aren't you going to play any more, Mr. Sterling?" she asked.
"Why aren't you playing?" he rejoined.
"My husband says I play too badly."
"Oh, play with me! We shall make a good pair."
"Then you must be very good."
"Well, no one can play a hang here, you know. Besides I'm sure
you're all right, really."
"You forget my weight of years."
He opened his blue eyes a little, and laughed. He was, in fact,
astonished to find that she was quite a young woman. Remembering
old Mortimer and the babies, he had thought of her as full
middle-aged. But she was not; nor had she that likeness to a
suet pudding, which his newborn criticalfacultycruelly detected
in his old friends, the Vicarage girls.
There was one of them--Maudie--with whom he had flirted in his
holidays; he wondered at that, especially when a relentless
memory told him that Mrs. Mortimer must have been at the
parties where the thing went on. He felt very much older, so
much older that Mrs. Mortimer became at once a contemporary.
Why, then, should she begin, as she now did, to talk to him, in
quasi maternal fashion, about his prospects? Men don't have
prospects, or, anyhow, are spared questionings thereon.
Either from impatience of this topic, or because, after all,
tennis was not to be neglected, he left her, and she sat alone
for a little while, watching him play. She was glad that she had
not played; she could not have rivaled the activity of the
Vicarage girls. She got up and joined Mrs. Sterling, who was
presiding over the club teapot. The good lady expected
compliments on her son, but for some reason Mrs. Mortimer gave
her none. Very soon, indeed, she took Johnnie away with her,
leaving her husband to follow at his leisure.
In comparing Maudie Sinclair to a suet pudding, Harry had looked
at the dark side of the matter.
The suggestion, though indisputable, was only occasionally
obtrusive, and as a rule hushed almost to silence by the pleasant
good nature which redeemed shapeless features. Mrs. Mortimer had
always liked Maudie, who ran in and out of her house continually,
and had made of herself a vice-mother to the little children.
The very next day she came, and, in the intervals of playing
cricket with Johnnie, took occasion to inform Mrs. Mortimer that
in her opinion Harry Sterling was by no means improved by his new
status and dignity. She went so far as to use the term "stuck-
up." "He didn't use to be like that," she said, shaking her
head; "he used to be very jolly." Mrs. Mortimer was relieved to
note an entire absence of romance either in the regretted past or
the condemned present. Maudie mourned a friend spoiled, not an
admirer lost; the tone of her criticisms left no doubt of it, and
Mrs. Mortimer, with a laugh, announced her intention of asking
the Sterlings to dinner and having Maudie to meet them. "You
will be able to make it up then," said she.
"Why, I see him every day at the tennis club," cried Maudie in
surprise.
The faintest of blushes tinged Mrs. Mortimer's cheek as she chid
herself for forgetting this obvious fact.
The situation now developed rapidly. The absurd thing happened:
Harry Sterling began to take a serious view of his attachment to
Mrs. Mortimer. The one thing more absurd, that she should take a
serious view of it, had not happened yet, and, indeed, would
never happen; so she told herself with a nervous little laugh.
Harry gave her no opportunity of saying so to him, for you cannot
reprove glances or discourage pressings of your hand in fashion
so blunt.
And he was very discreet: he never made her look foolish. In
public he treated her with just the degree of attention that
gained his mother's fond eulogium, and his father's approving
smile; while Mr. Mortimer, who went to London at nine o'clock
every morning and did not return till seven, was very seldom
bothered by finding the young fellow hanging about the house.
Certainly he came pretty frequently between the hours named, but
it was, as the children could have witnessed, to play with them.
And, through his comings and goings, Mrs. Mortimer moved with
pleasure, vexation, self-contempt, and eagerness.
One night she and her husband went to dine with the Sterlings.
After dinner Mr. Mortimer accepted his host's invitation to stay
for a smoke. He saw no difficulty in his wife walking home
alone; it was but half a mile, and the night was fine and
moonlit. Mrs. Mortimer made no difficulty either, but Mrs.
Sterling was sure that Harry would be delighted to see Mrs.
Mortimer to her house.
She liked the boy to learn habits of politeness, she said, and
his father eagerly proffered his escort, waving aside Mrs.
Mortimer's protest that she would not think of troubling Mr.
Harry; throughout which conversation Harry said nothing at
all, but stood smiling, with his hat in his hand, the picture of
an obedient, well-mannered youth. There are generally two ways
anywhere, and there were two from the Sterlings' to the
Mortimers': the short one through the village, and the long one
round by the lane and across the Church meadow. The path
diverging to the latter route comes very soon after you leave the
Sterlings', and not a word had passed when Mrs. Mortimer and
Harry reached it. Still without a word, Harry turned off to
follow the path. Mrs. Mortimer glanced at him; Harry smiled.
"It's much longer," she said.
"There's lots of time," rejoined Harry, "and it's such a jolly
night." The better to enjoy the night's beauty, he slackened his
pace to a very crawl.
"It's rather dark; won't you take my arm?" he said.
"What nonsense! Why, I could see to read!"
"But I'm sure you're tired."
"How absurd you are! Was it a great bore?"
"What?"
"Why, coming."
"No," said Harry.
In such affairs monosyllables are danger signals. A long
protestation might have meant nothing: in this short, sufficient
negative Mrs. Mortimer recognized the boy's sincerity. A little
thrill of pride and shame, and perhaps something else, ran
through her. The night was hot and she unfastened the clasp of
her cloak, breathing a trifle quickly. To relieve the silence,
she said, with a laugh:
"You see we poor married women have to depend on charity. Our
husbands don't care to walk home with us. Your father was bent
on your coming."
Harry laughed a short laugh; the utter darkness of Mr. Sterling's
condition struck through his agitation down to his sense of
humor. Mrs. Mortimer smiled at him; she could not help it: the
secret between them was so pleasant to her, even while she
hated herself for its existence.
They had reached the meadow now, halfway through their journey.
A little gate led into it and Harry stopped, leaning his arm on
the top rail.
"Oh, no! we must go on," she murmured.
"They won't move for an hour yet," he answered, and then he
suddenly broke out:
"How--how funny it is! I hardly remembered you, you know."
"Oh, but I remembered you, a pretty little boy;" and she looked
up at his face, half a foot above her. Mere stature has much
effect and the little boy stage seemed very far away. And he
knew that it did, for he put out his hand to take hers. She drew
back.
"No," she said.
Harry blushed. She took hold of the gate and he, yielding his
by Anthony Hope [Hawkins]
FRIVOLOUS CUPID
BY
SIR ANTHONY HOPE HAWKINS
(ANTHONY HOPE, PSEUD.)
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
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.
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" target="_blank" title="n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论">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.
He said nothing, and Mrs. Mortimer looked at him from under her
long lashes; in so doing she discovered that he was looking at
her.
"Aren't you going to play any more, Mr. Sterling?" she asked.
"Why aren't you playing?" he rejoined.
"My husband says I play too badly."
"Oh, play with me! We shall make a good pair."
"Then you must be very good."
"Well, no one can play a hang here, you know. Besides I'm sure
you're all right, really."
"You forget my weight of years."
He opened his blue eyes a little, and laughed. He was, in fact,
astonished to find that she was quite a young woman. Remembering
old Mortimer and the babies, he had thought of her as full
middle-aged. But she was not; nor had she that likeness to a
suet pudding, which his newborn criticalfacultycruelly detected
in his old friends, the Vicarage girls.
There was one of them--Maudie--with whom he had flirted in his
holidays; he wondered at that, especially when a relentless
memory told him that Mrs. Mortimer must have been at the
parties where the thing went on. He felt very much older, so
much older that Mrs. Mortimer became at once a contemporary.
Why, then, should she begin, as she now did, to talk to him, in
quasi maternal fashion, about his prospects? Men don't have
prospects, or, anyhow, are spared questionings thereon.
Either from impatience of this topic, or because, after all,
tennis was not to be neglected, he left her, and she sat alone
for a little while, watching him play. She was glad that she had
not played; she could not have rivaled the activity of the
Vicarage girls. She got up and joined Mrs. Sterling, who was
presiding over the club teapot. The good lady expected
compliments on her son, but for some reason Mrs. Mortimer gave
her none. Very soon, indeed, she took Johnnie away with her,
leaving her husband to follow at his leisure.
In comparing Maudie Sinclair to a suet pudding, Harry had looked
at the dark side of the matter.
The suggestion, though indisputable, was only occasionally
obtrusive, and as a rule hushed almost to silence by the pleasant
good nature which redeemed shapeless features. Mrs. Mortimer had
always liked Maudie, who ran in and out of her house continually,
and had made of herself a vice-mother to the little children.
The very next day she came, and, in the intervals of playing
cricket with Johnnie, took occasion to inform Mrs. Mortimer that
in her opinion Harry Sterling was by no means improved by his new
status and dignity. She went so far as to use the term "stuck-
up." "He didn't use to be like that," she said, shaking her
head; "he used to be very jolly." Mrs. Mortimer was relieved to
note an entire absence of romance either in the regretted past or
the condemned present. Maudie mourned a friend spoiled, not an
admirer lost; the tone of her criticisms left no doubt of it, and
Mrs. Mortimer, with a laugh, announced her intention of asking
the Sterlings to dinner and having Maudie to meet them. "You
will be able to make it up then," said she.
"Why, I see him every day at the tennis club," cried Maudie in
surprise.
The faintest of blushes tinged Mrs. Mortimer's cheek as she chid
herself for forgetting this obvious fact.
The situation now developed rapidly. The absurd thing happened:
Harry Sterling began to take a serious view of his attachment to
Mrs. Mortimer. The one thing more absurd, that she should take a
serious view of it, had not happened yet, and, indeed, would
never happen; so she told herself with a nervous little laugh.
Harry gave her no opportunity of saying so to him, for you cannot
reprove glances or discourage pressings of your hand in fashion
so blunt.
And he was very discreet: he never made her look foolish. In
public he treated her with just the degree of attention that
gained his mother's fond eulogium, and his father's approving
smile; while Mr. Mortimer, who went to London at nine o'clock
every morning and did not return till seven, was very seldom
bothered by finding the young fellow hanging about the house.
Certainly he came pretty frequently between the hours named, but
it was, as the children could have witnessed, to play with them.
And, through his comings and goings, Mrs. Mortimer moved with
pleasure, vexation, self-contempt, and eagerness.
One night she and her husband went to dine with the Sterlings.
After dinner Mr. Mortimer accepted his host's invitation to stay
for a smoke. He saw no difficulty in his wife walking home
alone; it was but half a mile, and the night was fine and
moonlit. Mrs. Mortimer made no difficulty either, but Mrs.
Sterling was sure that Harry would be delighted to see Mrs.
Mortimer to her house.
She liked the boy to learn habits of politeness, she said, and
his father eagerly proffered his escort, waving aside Mrs.
Mortimer's protest that she would not think of troubling Mr.
Harry; throughout which conversation Harry said nothing at
all, but stood smiling, with his hat in his hand, the picture of
an obedient, well-mannered youth. There are generally two ways
anywhere, and there were two from the Sterlings' to the
Mortimers': the short one through the village, and the long one
round by the lane and across the Church meadow. The path
diverging to the latter route comes very soon after you leave the
Sterlings', and not a word had passed when Mrs. Mortimer and
Harry reached it. Still without a word, Harry turned off to
follow the path. Mrs. Mortimer glanced at him; Harry smiled.
"It's much longer," she said.
"There's lots of time," rejoined Harry, "and it's such a jolly
night." The better to enjoy the night's beauty, he slackened his
pace to a very crawl.
"It's rather dark; won't you take my arm?" he said.
"What nonsense! Why, I could see to read!"
"But I'm sure you're tired."
"How absurd you are! Was it a great bore?"
"What?"
"Why, coming."
"No," said Harry.
In such affairs monosyllables are danger signals. A long
protestation might have meant nothing: in this short, sufficient
negative Mrs. Mortimer recognized the boy's sincerity. A little
thrill of pride and shame, and perhaps something else, ran
through her. The night was hot and she unfastened the clasp of
her cloak, breathing a trifle quickly. To relieve the silence,
she said, with a laugh:
"You see we poor married women have to depend on charity. Our
husbands don't care to walk home with us. Your father was bent
on your coming."
Harry laughed a short laugh; the utter darkness of Mr. Sterling's
condition struck through his agitation down to his sense of
humor. Mrs. Mortimer smiled at him; she could not help it: the
secret between them was so pleasant to her, even while she
hated herself for its existence.
They had reached the meadow now, halfway through their journey.
A little gate led into it and Harry stopped, leaning his arm on
the top rail.
"Oh, no! we must go on," she murmured.
"They won't move for an hour yet," he answered, and then he
suddenly broke out:
"How--how funny it is! I hardly remembered you, you know."
"Oh, but I remembered you, a pretty little boy;" and she looked
up at his face, half a foot above her. Mere stature has much
effect and the little boy stage seemed very far away. And he
knew that it did, for he put out his hand to take hers. She drew
back.
"No," she said.
Harry blushed. She took hold of the gate and he, yielding his
- moreover [mɔ:´rəuvə]
ad.再者，此外，而且 (初中英语单词) - thoroughly [´θʌrəli] ad.完全地，彻底地 (初中英语单词)
- introduction [,intrə´dʌkʃən] n.介绍；引言；引导 (初中英语单词)
- working [´wə:kiŋ] a.工人的；劳动的 (初中英语单词)
- forehead [´fɔrid] n.额，前部 (初中英语单词)
- extent [ik´stent] n.长度；程度；范围 (初中英语单词)
- waiting [´weitiŋ] n.等候；伺候 (初中英语单词)
- faculty [´fækəlti] n.才干；天赋；院，系 (初中英语单词)
- suggestion [sə´dʒestʃən] n.建议，提议；暗示 (初中英语单词)
- dignity [´digniti] n.尊严，尊贵；高官显贵 (初中英语单词)
- absence [´æbsəns] n.不在，缺席；缺乏 (初中英语单词)
- romance [rəu´mæns] n.中世纪骑士小说 (初中英语单词)
- intention [in´tenʃən] n.意图；打算；意义 (初中英语单词)
- obvious [´ɔbviəs] a.明显的；显而易见的 (初中英语单词)
- absurd [əb´sə:d] a.荒谬的，可笑的 (初中英语单词)
- nervous [´nə:vəs] a.神经的；神经过敏的 (初中英语单词)
- discourage [dis´kʌridʒ] vt.使泄气，使沮丧 (初中英语单词)
- invitation [,invi´teiʃən] n.邀请；请帖；吸引 (初中英语单词)
- eagerly [´i:gəli] ad.渴望地，急切地 (初中英语单词)
- meadow [´medəu] n.草地；牧场 (初中英语单词)
- trifle [´traifəl] n.琐事，小事；少量 (初中英语单词)
- relieve [ri´li:v] v.救济，援救；减轻 (初中英语单词)
- doubtful [´dautful] a.怀疑的，可疑的 (高中英语单词)
- tennis [´tenis] n.网球(运动) (高中英语单词)
- assent [ə´sent] vi.&n.同意，赞成 (高中英语单词)
- carelessly [´kɛəlisli] ad.粗心地；疏忽地 (高中英语单词)
- likeness [´laiknis] n.相似；肖像；外表 (高中英语单词)
- pudding [´pudiŋ] n.布丁 (高中英语单词)
- critical [´kritikəl] a.批评的；关键性的 (高中英语单词)
- saying [´seiŋ, ´sei-iŋ] n.言语；言论；格言 (高中英语单词)
- finding [´faindiŋ] n.发现物；判断；结果 (高中英语单词)
- hanging [´hæŋiŋ] n.绞刑 a.悬挂着的 (高中英语单词)
- escort [´eskɔ:t] n.伴随者；警卫(队) (高中英语单词)
- charity [´tʃæriti] n.施舍；慈悲；博爱 (高中英语单词)
- agitation [,ædʒi´teiʃən] n.鼓动；摇动；焦虑 (高中英语单词)
- superiority [su:piəri´ɔriti, sju:-] n.优越，卓越 (英语四级单词)
- absurdity [əb´sə:diti] n.荒谬，愚蠢；谬论 (英语四级单词)
- graciously [´greiʃəsli] ad.仁慈地，和蔼庄重地 (英语四级单词)
- cruelly [´kruəli] ad.残酷地；极，非常 (英语四级单词)
- maternal [mə´tə:nl] a.母亲的；母性(系)的 (英语四级单词)
- impatience [im´peiʃəns] n.不耐烦，急躁 (英语四级单词)
- sterling [´stə:liŋ] a.真正的 n.英国货币 (英语四级单词)
- attachment [ə´tætʃmənt] n.附着；附件；爱慕 (英语四级单词)
- delighted [di´laitid] a.高兴的；喜欢的 (英语四级单词)
- obedient [ə´bi:djənt] a.服从的，恭顺的 (英语四级单词)
- sincerity [sin´seriti] n.真诚；诚意 (英语四级单词)
- stature [´stætʃə] n.身高；身材 (英语四级单词)
- frivolous [´frivələs] a.轻佻的 (英语六级单词)
- harrow [´hærəu] n.&v.耙(地) (英语六级单词)
- shapeless [´ʃeiplis] a.无定形的；不成样的 (英语六级单词)
- discreet [di´skri:t] a.谨慎的，考虑周到的 (英语六级单词)
- vexation [vek´seiʃən] n.烦恼(的原因) (英语六级单词)
- politeness [pə´laitnis] n.礼貌；文雅；温和 (英语六级单词)
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