[夜与日].(night.and.day).(英)弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙.文字版-第28部分

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“They　must　have　been　good　friends　at　heart；”　she　resumed；　
“because　she　used　to　sing　his　songs。　Ah；　how　did　
it　go？”　and　Mrs。　Hilbery；　who　had　a　very　sweet　voice；　
trolled　out　a　famous　lyric　of　her　father’s　which　had　been　
set　to　an　absurdly　and　charmingly　sentimental　air　by　some　
early　Victorian　poser。　

“It’s　the　vitality　of　them！”　she　concluded；　striking　her　
fist　against　the　table。　“That’s　what　we　haven’t　got！　We’re　
virtuous；　we’re　earnest；　we　go　to　meetings；　we　pay　the　
poor　their　wages；　but　we　don’t　live　as　they　lived。　As　often　
as　not；　my　father　wasn’t　in　bed　three　nights　out　of　the　
seven；　but　always　fresh　as　paint　in　the　morning。　I　hear　
him　now；　e　singing　up　the　stairs　to　the　nursery；　and　
tossing　the　loaf　for　breakfast　on　his　swordstick；　and　then　
off　we　went　for　a　day’s　pleasuring—Richmond；　Hampton　
Court；　the　Surrey　Hills。　Why　shouldn’t　we　go；　Katharine？　
It’s　going　to　be　a　fine　day。”　

At　this　moment；　just　as　Mrs。　Hilbery　was　examining　the　
weather　from　the　window；　there　was　a　knock　at　the　door。　

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Night　and　Day　

A　slight；　elderly　lady　came　in；　and　was　saluted　by　
Katharine；　with　very　evident　dismay；　as　“Aunt　Celia！”　She　
was　dismayed　because　she　guessed　why　Aunt　Celia　had　
e。　It　was　certainly　in　order　to　discuss　the　case　of　Cyril　
and　the　woman　who　was　not　his　wife；　and　owing　to　her　
procrastination　Mrs。　Hilbery　was　quite　unprepared。　Who　
could　be　more　unprepared？　Here　she　was；　suggesting　that　
all　three　of　them　should　go　on　a　jaunt　to　Blackfriars　to　
inspect　the　site　of　Shakespeare’s　theater；　for　the　weather　
was　hardly　settled　enough　for　the　country。　

To　this　proposal　Mrs。　Milvain　listened　with　a　patient　
smile；　which　indicated　that　for　many　years　she　had　accepted　
such　eccentricities　in　her　sisterinlaw　with　bland　
philosophy。　Katharine　took　up　her　position　at　some　distance；　
standing　with　her　foot　on　the　fender；　as　though　by　
so　doing　she　could　get　a　better　view　of　the　matter。　But；　
in　spite　of　her　aunt’s　presence；　how　unreal　the　whole　
question　of　Cyril　and　his　morality　appeared！　The　difficulty；　
it　now　seemed；　was　not　to　break　the　news　gently　to　
Mrs。　Hilbery；　but　to　make　her　understand　it。　How　was　one　
to　lasso　her　mind；　and　tether　it　to　this　minute；　unimpor


tant　spot？　A　matteroffact　statement　seemed　best。　

“I　think　Aunt　Celia　has　e　to　talk　about　Cyril；　mother；”　
she　said　rather　brutally。　“Aunt　Celia　has　discovered　that　
Cyril　is　married。　He　has　a　wife　and　children。”　

“No；　he　is　not　married；”　Mrs。　Milvain　interposed；　in　low　
tones；　addressing　herself　to　Mrs。　Hilbery。　“He　has　two　
children；　and　another　on　the　way。”　

Mrs。　Hilbery　looked　from　one　to　the　other　in　bewilderment。　


“We　thought　it　better　to　wait　until　it　was　proved　before　
we　told　you；”　Katharine　added。　

“But　I　met　Cyril　only　a　fortnight　ago　at　the　National　
Gallery！”　Mrs。　Hilbery　exclaimed。　“I　don’t　believe　a　word　
of　it；”　and　she　tossed　her　head　with　a　smile　on　her　lips　at　
Mrs。　Milvain；　as　though　she　could　quite　understand　her　
mistake；　which　was　a　very　natural　mistake；　in　the　case　of　
a　childless　woman；　whose　husband　was　something　very　
dull　in　the　Board　of　Trade。　

“I　didn’t　wish　to　believe　it；　Maggie；”　said　Mrs。　Milvain。　
“For　a　long　time　I　couldn’t　believe　it。　But　now　I’ve　seen；　
and　I　have　to　believe　it。”　

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“Katharine；”　Mrs。　Hilbery　demanded；　“does　your　father　
know　of　this？”　

Katharine　nodded。　

“Cyril　married！”　Mrs。　Hilbery　repeated。　“And　never　telling　
us　a　word；　though　we’ve　had　him　in　our　house　since　he　was　
a　child—noble　William’s　son！　I　can’t　believe　my　ears！”　

Feeling　that　the　burden　of　proof　was　laid　upon　her；　Mrs。　
Milvain　now　proceeded　with　her　story。　She　was　elderly　
and　fragile；　but　her　childlessness　seemed　always　to　impose　
these　painful　duties　on　her；　and　to　revere　the　family；　
and　to　keep　it　in　repair；　had　now　bee　the　chief　
object　of　her　life。　She　told　her　story　in　a　low；　spasmodic；　
and　somewhat　broken　voice。　

“I　have　suspected　for　some　time　that　he　was　not　happy。　
There　were　new　lines　on　his　face。　So　I　went　to　his　rooms；　
when　I　knew　he　was　engaged　at　the　poor　men’s　college。　
He　lectures　there—Roman　law；　you　know；　or　it　may　be　
Greek。　The　landlady　said　Mr。　Alardyce　only　slept　there　
about　once　a　fortnight　now。　He　looked　so　ill；　she　said。　
She　had　seen　him　with　a　young　person。　I　suspected　something　
directly。　I　went　to　his　room；　and　there　was　an　en


velope　on　the　mantelpiece；　and　a　letter　with　an　address　
in　Seton　Street；　off　the　Kennington　Road。”　

Mrs。　Hilbery　fidgeted　rather　restlessly；　and　hummed　fragments　
of　her　tune；　as　if　to　interrupt。　

“I　went　to　Seton　Street；”　Aunt　Celia　continued　firmly。　
“A　very　low　place—lodginghouses；　you　know；　with　canaries　
in　the　window。　Number　seven　just　like　all　the　others。　
I　rang；　I　knocked；　no　one　came。　I　went　down　the　
area。　I　am　certain　I　saw　some　one　inside—children—a　
cradle。　But　no　reply—no　reply。”　She　sighed；　and　looked　
straight　in　front　of　her　with　a　glazed　expression　in　her　
halfveiled　blue　eyes。　

“I　stood　in　the　street；”　she　resumed；　“in　case　I　could　
catch　a　sight　of　one　of　them。　It　seemed　a　very　long　time。　
There　were　rough　men　singing　in　the　publichouse　round　
the　corner。　At　last　the　door　opened；　and　some　one—it　
must　have　been　the　woman　herself—came　right　past　me。　
There　was　only　the　pillarbox　between　us。”　

“And　what　did　she　look　like？”　Mrs。　Hilbery　demanded。　

“One　could　see　how　the　poor　boy　had　been　deluded；”　was　
all　that　Mrs。　Milvain　vouchsafed　by　way　of　description。　

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Night　and　Day　

“Poor　thing！”　Mrs。　Hilbery　exclaimed。　

“Poor　Cyril！”　Mrs。　Milvain　said；　laying　a　slight　emphasis　
upon　Cyril。　

“But　they’ve　got　nothing　to　live　upon；”　Mrs。　Hilbery　
continued。　“If　he’d　e　to　us　like　a　man；”　she　went　on；　
“and　said；　‘I’ve　been　a　fool；’　one　would　have　pitied　him；　
one　would　have　tried　to　help　him。　There’s　nothing　so　
disgraceful　after　all—　But　he’s　been　going　about　all　these　
years；　pretending；　letting　one　take　it　for　granted；　that　he　
was　single。　And　the　poor　deserted　little　wife—”　

“She　is　not　his　wife；”　Aunt　Celia　interrupted。　

“I’ve　never　heard　anything　so　detestable！”　Mrs。　Hilbery　
wound　up；　striking　her　fist　on　the　arm　of　her　chair。　As　she　
realized　the　facts　she　became　thoroughly　disgusted；　although；　
perhaps；　she　was　more　hurt　by　the　concealment　
of　the　sin　than　by　the　sin　itself。　She　looked　splendidly　
roused　and　indignant；　and　Katharine　felt　an　immense　relief　
and　pride　in　her　mother。　It　was　plain　that　her　indignation　
was　very　genuine；　and　that　her　mind　was　as　perfectly　
focused　upon　the　facts　as　any　one　could　wish—　
more　so；　by　a　long　way；　than　Aunt　Celia’s　mind；　which　

seemed　to　be　timidly　circling；　with　a　morbid　pleasure；　in　
these　unpleasant　shades。　She　and　her　mother　together　
would　take　the　situation　in　hand；　visit　Cyril；　and　see　the　
whole　thing　through。　

“We　must　realize　Cyril’s　point　of　view　first；”　she　said；　
speaking　directly　to　her　mother；　as　if　to　a　contemporary；　
but　before　the　words　were　out　of　her　mouth；　there　was　
more　confusion　outside；　and　Cousin　Caroline；　Mrs。　Hilbery’s　
maiden　cousin；　entered　the　room。　Although　she　was　by　
birth　an　Alardyce；　and　Aunt　Celia　a　Hilbery；　the　plexities　
of　the　family　relationship　were　such　that　each　was　at　
once　first　and　second　cousin　to　the　other；　and　thus　aunt　
and　cousin　to　the　culprit　Cyril；　so　that　his　misbehavior　
was　almost　as　much　Cousin　Caroline’s　affair　as　Aunt　Celia’s。　
Cousin　Caroline　was　a　lady　of　very　imposing　height　and　
circumference；　but　in　spite　of　her　size　and　her　handsome　
trappings；　there　was　something　exposed　and　unsheltered　
in　her　expression；　as　if　for　many　summers　her　thin　red　
skin　and　hooked　nose　and　reduplication　of　chins；　so　much　
resembling　the　profile　of　a　cockatoo；　had　been　bared　to　
the　weather；　she　was；　indeed；　a　single　lady；　but　she　had；　

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it　was　the　habit　to　say；　“made　a　life　for　herself；”　and　was　
thus　entitled　to　be　heard　with　respect。　

“This　unhappy　business；”　she　began；　out