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85
Night and Day
became less and less possible to do； for though Mrs。
Hilbery was constantly reverting to the story； it was always
in this tentative and restless fashion； as though by
a touch here and there she could set things straight which
had been crooked these sixty years。 Perhaps； indeed； she
no longer knew what the truth was。
“If they’d lived now；” she concluded； “I feel it wouldn’t
have happened。 People aren’t so set upon tragedy as they
were then。 If my father had been able to go round the
world； or if she’d had a rest cure； everything would have
e right。 But what could I do？ And then they had bad
friends； both of them； who made mischief。 Ah； Katharine；
when you marry； be quite； quite sure that you love your
husband！”
The tears stood in Mrs。 Hilbery’s eyes。
While forting her； Katharine thought to herself； “Now
this is what Mary Datchet and Mr。 Denham don’t understand。
This is the sort of position I’m always getting into。
How simple it must be to live as they do！” for all the
evening she had been paring her home and her father
and mother with the Suffrage office and the people there。
“But； Katharine；” Mrs。 Hilbery continued； with one of
her sudden changes of mood； “though； Heaven knows； I
don’t want to see you married； surely if ever a man loved
a woman； William loves you。 And it’s a nice； richsounding
name too—Katharine Rodney； which； unfortunately；
doesn’t mean that he’s got any money； because he hasn’t。”
The alteration of her name annoyed Katharine； and she
observed； rather sharply； that she didn’t want to marry
any one。
“It’s very dull that you can only marry one husband；
certainly；” Mrs。 Hilbery reflected。 “I always wish that you
could marry everybody who wants to marry you。 Perhaps
they’ll e to that in time； but meanwhile I confess
that dear William—” But here Mr。 Hilbery came in； and
the more solid part of the evening began。 This consisted
in the reading aloud by Katharine from some prose work
or other； while her mother knitted scarves intermittently
on a little circular frame； and her father read the newspaper；
not so attentively but that he could ment humorously
now and again upon the fortunes of the hero
and the heroine。 The Hilberys subscribed to a library； which
86
Virginia Woolf
delivered books on Tuesdays and Fridays； and Katharine
did her best to interest her parents in the works of living
and highly respectable authors； but Mrs。 Hilbery was perturbed
by the very look of the light； goldwreathed volumes；
and would make little faces as if she tasted something
bitter as the reading went on； while Mr。 Hilbery
would treat the moderns with a curious elaborate banter
such as one might apply to the antics of a promising
child。 So this evening； after five pages or so of one of
these masters； Mrs。 Hilbery protested that it was all too
clever and cheap and nasty for words。
“Please； Katharine； read us something real。”
Katharine had to go to the bookcase and choose a portly
volume in sleek； yellow calf； which had directly a sedative
effect upon both her parents。 But the delivery of the
evening post broke in upon the periods of Henry Fielding；
and Katharine found that her letters needed all her
attention。
CHAPTER VIII
She took her letters up to her room with her； having persuaded
her mother to go to bed directly Mr。 Hilbery left
them； for so long as she sat in the same room as her
mother； Mrs。 Hilbery might； at any moment； ask for a
sight of the post。 A very hasty glance through many sheets
had shown Katharine that； by some coincidence； her attention
had to be directed to many different anxieties
simultaneously。 In the first place； Rodney had written a
very full account of his state of mind； which was illustrated
by a son； and he demanded a reconsideration
of their position； which agitated Katharine more than
she liked。 Then there were two letters which had to be
laid side by side and pared before she could make out
the truth of their story； and even when she knew the
facts she could not decide what to make of them； and
finally she had to reflect upon a great many pages from a
cousin who found himself in financial difficulties； which
forced him to the uncongenial occupation of teaching
the young ladies of Bungay to play upon the violin。
87
Night and Day
But the two letters which each told the same story
differently were the chief source of her perplexity。 She
was really rather shocked to find it definitely established
that her own second cousin； Cyril Alardyce； had lived for
the last four years with a woman who was not his wife；
who had borne him two children； and was now about to
bear him another。 This state of things had been discovered
by Mrs。 Milvain； her aunt Celia； a zealous inquirer
into such matters； whose letter was also under consideration。
Cyril； she said； must be made to marry the woman
at once； and Cyril； rightly or wrongly； was indignant with
such interference with his affairs； and would not own
that he had any cause to be ashamed of himself。 Had he
any cause to be ashamed of himself； Katharine wondered；
and she turned to her aunt again。
“Remember；” she wrote； in her profuse； emphatic statement；
“that he bears your grandfather’s name； and so will
the child that is to be born。 The poor boy is not so much
to blame as the woman who deluded him； thinking him a
gentleman； which he is； and having money； which he has
not。”
“What would Ralph Denham say to this？” thought
Katharine； beginning to pace up and down her bedroom。
She twitched aside the curtains； so that； on turning； she
was faced by darkness； and looking out； could just distinguish
the branches of a plaree and the yellow lights
of some one else’s windows。
“What would Mary Datchet and Ralph Denham say？”
she reflected； pausing by the window； which； as the night
was warm； she raised； in order to feel the air upon her
face； and to lose herself in the nothingness of night。 But
with the air the distant humming sound of faroff