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[夜与日].(night.and.day).(英)弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙.文字版-第48部分


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understand that you rule your life by the stars?” 

She let this pass; either because she did not attend to 
it; or because the tone was not to her liking。 

Once more she paused; and then she inquired: 

“But do you always understand why you do everything? 
Ought one to understand? People like my mother understand;” 
she reflected。 “Now I must go down to them; I 
suppose; and see what’s happening。” 

“What could be happening?” Henry protested。 

“Oh; they may want to settle something;” she replied 
vaguely; putting her feet on the ground; resting her chin 
on her hands; and looking out of her large dark eyes 
contemplatively at the fire。 

“And then there’s William;” she added; as if by an afterthought。 


Henry very nearly laughed; but restrained himself。 

“Do they know what coals are made of; Henry?” she 
asked; a moment later。 

“Mares’ tails; I believe;” he hazarded。 
“Have you ever been down a coalmine?” she went on。 
“Don’t let’s talk about coalmines; Katharine;” he pro


tested。 “We shall probably never see each other again。 
When you’re married—” 
Tremendously to his surprise; he saw the tears stand in 

her eyes。 
“Why do you all tease me?” she said。 “It isn’t kind。” 
Henry could not pretend that he was altogether igno


rant of her meaning; though; certainly; he had never 
guessed that she minded the teasing。 But before he knew 
what to say; her eyes were clear again; and the sudden 
crack in the surface was almost filled up。 

“Things aren’t easy; anyhow;” she stated。 
Obeying an impulse of genuine affection; Henry spoke。 
“Promise me; Katharine; that if I can ever help you; 


you will let me。” 

She seemed to consider; looking once more into the red 
of the fire; and decided to refrain from any explanation。 
“Yes; I promise that;” she said at length; and Henry felt 
himself gratified by her plete sincerity; and began to 

171 



Night and Day 

tell her now about the coalmine; in obedience to her 
love of facts。 

They were; indeed; descending the shaft in a small cage; 
and could hear the picks of the miners; something like 
the gnawing of rats; in the earth beneath them; when 
the door was burst open; without any knocking。 

“Well; here you are!” Rodney exclaimed。 Both Katharine 
and Henry turned round very quickly and rather guiltily。 
Rodney was in evening dress。 It was clear that his temper 
was ruffled。 

“That’s where you’ve been all the time;” he repeated; 
looking at Katharine。 

“I’ve only been here about ten minutes;” she replied。 

“My dear Katharine; you left the drawingroom over an 
hour ago。” 

She said nothing。 

“Does it very much matter?” Henry asked。 

Rodney found it hard to be unreasonable in the presence 
of another man; and did not answer him。 

“They don’t like it;” he said。 “It isn’t kind to old people 
to leave them alone—although I’ve no doubt it’s much 

more amusing to sit up here and talk to Henry。” 

“We were discussing coalmines;” said Henry urbanely。 

“Yes。 But we were talking about much more interesting 
things before that;” said Katharine。 

From the apparent determination to hurt him with which 
she spoke; Henry thought that some sort of explosion on 
Rodney’s part was about to take place。 

“I can quite understand that;” said Rodney; with his 
little chuckle; leaning over the back of his chair and tapping 
the woodwork lightly with his fingers。 They were all 
silent; and the silence was acutely unfortable to Henry; 
at least。 

“Was it very dull; William?” Katharine suddenly asked; 
with a plete change of tone and a little gesture of 
her hand。 

“Of course it was dull;” William said sulkily。 

“Well; you stay and talk to Henry; and I’ll go down;” 
she replied。 

She rose as she spoke; and as she turned to leave the 
room; she laid her hand; with a curiously caressing gesture; 
upon Rodney’s shoulder。 Instantly Rodney clasped 

172 



Virginia Woolf 

her hand in his; with such an impulse of emotion that 
Henry was annoyed; and rather ostentatiously opened a 
book。 

“I shall e down with you;” said William; as she drew 
back her hand; and made as if to pass him。 

“Oh no;” she said hastily。 “You stay here and talk to 
Henry。” 

“Yes; do;” said Henry; shutting up his book again。 His 
invitation was polite; without being precisely cordial。 
Rodney evidently hesitated as to the course he should 
pursue; but seeing Katharine at the door; he exclaimed: 

“No。 I want to e with you。” 

She looked back; and said in a very manding tone; 
and with an expression of authority upon her face: 

“It’s useless for you to e。 I shall go to bed in ten 
minutes。 Good night。” 

She nodded to them both; but Henry could not help 
noticing that her last nod was in his direction。 Rodney 
sat down rather heavily。 

His mortification was so obvious that Henry scarcely 
liked to open the conversation with some remark of a 

literary character。 On the other hand; unless he checked 
him; Rodney might begin to talk about his feelings; and 
irreticence is apt to be extremely painful; at any rate in 
prospect。 He therefore adopted a middle course; that is 
to say; he wrote a note upon the flyleaf of his book; 
which ran; “The situation is being most unfortable。” 
This he decorated with those flourishes and decorative 
borders which grow of themselves upon these occasions; 
and as he did so; he thought to himself that 
whatever Katharine’s difficulties might be; they did not 
justify her behavior。 She had spoken with a kind of brutality 
which suggested that; whether it is natural or assumed; 
women have a peculiar blindness to the feelings 
of men。 

The penciling of this note gave Rodney time to recover 
himself。 Perhaps; for he was a very vain man; he was 
more hurt that Henry had seen him rebuffed than by the 
rebuff itself。 He was in love with Katharine; and vanity is 
not decreased but increased by love; especially; one may 
hazard; in the presence of one’s own sex。 But Rodney 
enjoyed the courage which springs from that laughable 

173 



Night and Day 

and lovable defect; and when he had mastered his first 
impulse; in some way to make a fool of himself; he drew 
inspiration from the perfect fit of his evening dress。 He 
chose a cigarette; tapped it on the back of his hand; 
displayed his exquisite pumps on the edge of the fender; 
and summoned his selfrespect。 

“You’ve several big estates round here; Otway;” he began。 
“Any good hunting? Let me see; what pack would it 
be? Who’s your great man?” 

“Sir William Budge; the sugar king; has the biggest estate。 
He bought out poor Stanham; who went bankrupt。” 

“Which Stanham would that be? Verney or Alfred?” 

“Alfred… 。 I don’t hunt myself。 You’re a great huntsman; 
aren’t you? You have a great reputation as a horseman; 
anyhow;” he added; desiring to help Rodney in his 
effort to recover his placency。 

“Oh; I love riding;” Rodney replied。 “Could I get a horse 
down here? Stupid of me! I forgot to bring any clothes。 I can’t 
imagine; though; who told you I was anything of a rider?” 

To tell the truth; Henry labored under the same difficulty; 
he did not wish to introduce Katharine’s name; and; 

therefore; he replied vaguely that he had always heard 
that Rodney was a great rider。 In truth; he had heard 
very little about him; one way or another; accepting him 
as a figure often to be found in the background at his 
aunt’s house; and inevitably; though inexplicably; engaged 
to his cousin。 

“I don’t care much for shooting;” Rodney continued; 
“but one has to do it; unless one wants to be altogether 
out of things。 I dare say there’s some very pretty country 
round here。 I stayed once at Bolham Hall。 Young 
Cranthorpe was up with you; wasn’t he? He married old 
Lord Bolham’s daughter。 Very nice people—in their way。” 

“I don’t mix in that society;” Henry remarked; rather 
shortly。 But Rodney; now started on an agreeable current 
of reflection; could not resist the temptation of pursuing 
it a 

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