Clodwick Sparbungle Accepts His Fate
Although it could not be said, in all truth and fairness, that Clodwick Sparbungle was utterly devoid of any trace of charm whatsoever, it could, quite reasonably, and, indeed, quite correctly and quite unimpeachably, be generally observed that his readily verifiable aptitude as regards the right, proper, dependable, appropriate exercise of good manners was, at best and in nearly every instance, decidedly lacking. To put it bluntly, Clodwick Sparbungle was widely acknowledged, by those who knew him well and by those who merely chanced to cross his path, to be uncouth to a singular degree.
Clodwick was, undoubtedly, an uncouth person, but he also was exceedingly well-born (and exceedingly wealthy, mainly due to the ample inheritance he had received after his bachelor uncle, Bingford Sparbungle, had carelessly allowed himself to be eaten by a hungry crocodile while on safari in Africa), an enviable state which, as is usually the case in such matters, caused Clodwick to become a highly appealing prospect in the sharp eyes of young women who were greatly desirous of raising their own station in life. To such women, Clodwick Sparbungle was strongly regarded, in spite of the undeniable roughness of his ways, as a prime catch.
When Clodwick first met Euphonia Grumley, at a summer party given by one of his many aunts, he scarcely took any notice of her. She, however, quickly took notice of him, and was most impressed, particularly when she discovered him to be both the Duke of Diddlington and the sole holder of a private fortune that, as was excitedly described to her by another young woman at the party, amounted to "absolutely oodles of money." Euphonia firmly decided, there and then, that it was her eternal destiny to marry Clodwick Sparbungle, and to become the Duchess of Diddlington.
Clodwick himself had not the slightest interest in marrying Euphonia Grumley, or in marrying anyone else, being much more interested in cricket, polo, tennis, and golf, than in marriage. He tended to think of all young women, Euphonia included, as being something of a nuisance, and marriage as an unwholesome burden to be avoided at all costs. Unfortunately for Clodwick, he and his dukedom had met their match in Euphonia, a young woman of unusually fixed mind who was not easily prevented from achieving any goal that she set for herself, as would soon became apparent.
When a woman is as relentlessly determined to obtain a man as Euphonia Grumley was to obtain Clodwick Sparbungle, there is little the man in question can do to save himself. The more he frantically struggles against his masculine fate, strongly attempting to escape the alluring force of the feminine prerogative, the more he helplessly advances toward the dreadful certainty of his own doom. Clodwick's situation was completely hopeless from the start, his likelihood of escaping Euphonia's ardent grasp being, by any trustworthy measure, considerably less than naught.
Euphonia’s winning means of procuring Clodwick's unreserved surrender was fairly straightforward: she actively pursued him at every opportunity, with a single-minded fervor that was grandly breathtaking in its shameless display of unstoppable purpose. Wherever Clodwick went, Euphonia followed, making herself an irksomely constant element in his life, until he almost could not remember the pleasant course that his life had once taken, before the misfortune of meeting her had befallen him.
At every party, at every dinner, at every luncheon, at every reception, at every gathering of any kind, Euphonia was there, saying to Clodwick, in a coy tone that barely disguised her underlying steeliness, "Why, Your Grace, fancy meeting you here!" Given the compelling evidence of her unusual behavior toward him, he could not help wondering whether, if she continued in her unwelcome actions, she might pose a potential danger to his safety. It was not long until he fell into a nervous habit of looking over his shoulder throughout the day.
Clodwick's plight was abundantly clear to everyone in his particular circle. Many of them, especially those who prided themselves on the slyness of their wit, began to refer to Euphonia Grumley (only behind Clodwick's back, of course, never when he was within earshot) as "Clodwick's shadow," because wherever Clodwick happened to be, there also would be Euphonia.
"I say, old man, I hear that Grumley girl has set her cap for you, with a vengeance," one of Clodwick's friends said to him, as they sat drinking scotch and soda in The Bombast, the gentlemen's club to which both of them belonged.
"Yes, so it appears," Clodwick replied, with an unmistakable hint of foreboding in his tone and a pained look on his face. "She has, I fear, become somewhat troublesome of late."
"You'd better watch your step," his friend said. "If you're not careful, you're going to end up being married to her."
"Not if I can help it," Clodwick vowed, hoping (but, for the most part, failing) to convey the impression of a man who actually meant every word that he was saying.
After Clodwick had suffered from Euphonia's pursuit for more than six months, his resolve began to falter. He lost interest in food and was plagued by frequent nightmares. Whenever he thought of Euphonia (something he tried not to do) his hands would shake, ever so slightly. His friends saw him wandering through the streets at odd hours, forlornly staring into space and babbling to himself. He took to hiding in The Bombast, drinking far more scotch and soda than was advisable, only to find Euphonia cheerfully waiting for him on the doorstep of the club when he finally departed for home.
"For heaven's sake, woman, why are you always at my heels?" Clodwick demanded of Euphonia on one such occasion. "What on earth do you want of me?"
"I want to marry you and be your Duchess," Euphonia replied.
"What damnable foolishness!" Clodwick said.
"Please don't make it difficult, Your Grace," Euphonia said, softly and sweetly. "Being difficult will only delay the inevitable day of our being joined together."
"This has become intolerable!" Clodwick said. "You must stop following me! Now, be on your way, or I shall report you to the police!"
"Your Grace, it is useless to resist my earnest intentions," Euphonia said, now speaking in a voice that was much less soft and much less sweet. "I will brook no opposition in this matter. I intend to marry you and I intend to be your Duchess, and I can assure you, most confidently, that it shall come to pass."
"We shall see about that!" Clodwick declared, hurrying away.
"Your Grace, when can we announce our betrothal?" Euphonia called out, as Clodwick fled into the distance.
"Never!" Clodwick shouted back.
For every man who is in desperate flight from a female pursuer, there is a moment of total defeat: a moment when he suddenly knows, beyond any doubt, that the game is up. In the end, Clodwick Sparbungle numbly resigned himself to the sad necessity of embracing that which, as it turned out, could not be avoided. He wearily chose to accept his fate. He married Euphonia Grumley, making her the delighted Duchess to his downcast Duke. Thereafter, he settled into a dreary condition of wedded servitude, and lived unhappily ever after.
Clodwick was, undoubtedly, an uncouth person, but he also was exceedingly well-born (and exceedingly wealthy, mainly due to the ample inheritance he had received after his bachelor uncle, Bingford Sparbungle, had carelessly allowed himself to be eaten by a hungry crocodile while on safari in Africa), an enviable state which, as is usually the case in such matters, caused Clodwick to become a highly appealing prospect in the sharp eyes of young women who were greatly desirous of raising their own station in life. To such women, Clodwick Sparbungle was strongly regarded, in spite of the undeniable roughness of his ways, as a prime catch.
When Clodwick first met Euphonia Grumley, at a summer party given by one of his many aunts, he scarcely took any notice of her. She, however, quickly took notice of him, and was most impressed, particularly when she discovered him to be both the Duke of Diddlington and the sole holder of a private fortune that, as was excitedly described to her by another young woman at the party, amounted to "absolutely oodles of money." Euphonia firmly decided, there and then, that it was her eternal destiny to marry Clodwick Sparbungle, and to become the Duchess of Diddlington.
Clodwick himself had not the slightest interest in marrying Euphonia Grumley, or in marrying anyone else, being much more interested in cricket, polo, tennis, and golf, than in marriage. He tended to think of all young women, Euphonia included, as being something of a nuisance, and marriage as an unwholesome burden to be avoided at all costs. Unfortunately for Clodwick, he and his dukedom had met their match in Euphonia, a young woman of unusually fixed mind who was not easily prevented from achieving any goal that she set for herself, as would soon became apparent.
When a woman is as relentlessly determined to obtain a man as Euphonia Grumley was to obtain Clodwick Sparbungle, there is little the man in question can do to save himself. The more he frantically struggles against his masculine fate, strongly attempting to escape the alluring force of the feminine prerogative, the more he helplessly advances toward the dreadful certainty of his own doom. Clodwick's situation was completely hopeless from the start, his likelihood of escaping Euphonia's ardent grasp being, by any trustworthy measure, considerably less than naught.
Euphonia’s winning means of procuring Clodwick's unreserved surrender was fairly straightforward: she actively pursued him at every opportunity, with a single-minded fervor that was grandly breathtaking in its shameless display of unstoppable purpose. Wherever Clodwick went, Euphonia followed, making herself an irksomely constant element in his life, until he almost could not remember the pleasant course that his life had once taken, before the misfortune of meeting her had befallen him.
At every party, at every dinner, at every luncheon, at every reception, at every gathering of any kind, Euphonia was there, saying to Clodwick, in a coy tone that barely disguised her underlying steeliness, "Why, Your Grace, fancy meeting you here!" Given the compelling evidence of her unusual behavior toward him, he could not help wondering whether, if she continued in her unwelcome actions, she might pose a potential danger to his safety. It was not long until he fell into a nervous habit of looking over his shoulder throughout the day.
Clodwick's plight was abundantly clear to everyone in his particular circle. Many of them, especially those who prided themselves on the slyness of their wit, began to refer to Euphonia Grumley (only behind Clodwick's back, of course, never when he was within earshot) as "Clodwick's shadow," because wherever Clodwick happened to be, there also would be Euphonia.
"I say, old man, I hear that Grumley girl has set her cap for you, with a vengeance," one of Clodwick's friends said to him, as they sat drinking scotch and soda in The Bombast, the gentlemen's club to which both of them belonged.
"Yes, so it appears," Clodwick replied, with an unmistakable hint of foreboding in his tone and a pained look on his face. "She has, I fear, become somewhat troublesome of late."
"You'd better watch your step," his friend said. "If you're not careful, you're going to end up being married to her."
"Not if I can help it," Clodwick vowed, hoping (but, for the most part, failing) to convey the impression of a man who actually meant every word that he was saying.
After Clodwick had suffered from Euphonia's pursuit for more than six months, his resolve began to falter. He lost interest in food and was plagued by frequent nightmares. Whenever he thought of Euphonia (something he tried not to do) his hands would shake, ever so slightly. His friends saw him wandering through the streets at odd hours, forlornly staring into space and babbling to himself. He took to hiding in The Bombast, drinking far more scotch and soda than was advisable, only to find Euphonia cheerfully waiting for him on the doorstep of the club when he finally departed for home.
"For heaven's sake, woman, why are you always at my heels?" Clodwick demanded of Euphonia on one such occasion. "What on earth do you want of me?"
"I want to marry you and be your Duchess," Euphonia replied.
"What damnable foolishness!" Clodwick said.
"Please don't make it difficult, Your Grace," Euphonia said, softly and sweetly. "Being difficult will only delay the inevitable day of our being joined together."
"This has become intolerable!" Clodwick said. "You must stop following me! Now, be on your way, or I shall report you to the police!"
"Your Grace, it is useless to resist my earnest intentions," Euphonia said, now speaking in a voice that was much less soft and much less sweet. "I will brook no opposition in this matter. I intend to marry you and I intend to be your Duchess, and I can assure you, most confidently, that it shall come to pass."
"We shall see about that!" Clodwick declared, hurrying away.
"Your Grace, when can we announce our betrothal?" Euphonia called out, as Clodwick fled into the distance.
"Never!" Clodwick shouted back.
For every man who is in desperate flight from a female pursuer, there is a moment of total defeat: a moment when he suddenly knows, beyond any doubt, that the game is up. In the end, Clodwick Sparbungle numbly resigned himself to the sad necessity of embracing that which, as it turned out, could not be avoided. He wearily chose to accept his fate. He married Euphonia Grumley, making her the delighted Duchess to his downcast Duke. Thereafter, he settled into a dreary condition of wedded servitude, and lived unhappily ever after.