[夜与日].(night.and.day).(英)弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙.文字版-第91部分

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point　of　asking　Ralph　to　tell　her　what　she　might　expect；　
when　he　jerked　open　one　of　the　infinite　number　of　identical　
wooden　doors；　and　led　her　up　a　tiled　path　to　a　porch　
in　the　Alpine　style　of　architecture。　As　they　listened　to　

the　shaking　of　the　bell　in　the　basement；　she　could　summon　
no　vision　to　replace　the　one　so　rudely　destroyed。　

“I　must　warn　you　to　expect　a　family　party；”　said　Ralph。　
“They’re　mostly　in　on　Sundays。　We　can　go　to　my　room　
afterwards。”　

“Have　you　many　brothers　and　sisters？”　she　asked；　without　
concealing　her　dismay。　

“Six　or　seven；”　he　replied　grimly；　as　the　door　opened。　

While　Ralph　took　off　his　coat；　she　had　time　to　notice　
the　ferns　and　photographs　and　draperies；　and　to　hear　a　
hum；　or　rather　a　babble；　of　voices　talking　each　other　
down；　from　the　sound　of　them。　The　rigidity　of　extreme　
shyness　came　over　her。　She　kept　as　far　behind　Denham　as　
she　could；　and　walked　stiffly　after　him　into　a　room　blazing　
with　unshaded　lights；　which　fell　upon　a　number　of　
people；　of　different　ages；　sitting　round　a　large　dining
room　table　untidily　strewn　with　food；　and　unflinchingly　
lit　up　by　incandescent　gas。　Ralph　walked　straight　to　the　
far　end　of　the　table。　

“Mother；　this　is　Miss　Hilbery；”　he　said。　

A　large　elderly　lady；　bent　over　an　unsatisfactory　spirit


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lamp；　looked　up　with　a　little　frown；　and　observed：　

“I　beg　your　pardon。　I　thought　you　were　one　of　my　own　
girls。　Dorothy；”　she　continued　on　the　same　breath；　to　
catch　the　servant　before　she　left　the　room；　“we　shall　
want　some　more　methylated　spirits—unless　the　lamp　itself　
is　out　of　order。　If　one　of　you　could　invent　a　good　
spiritlamp—”　she　sighed；　looking　generally　down　the　
table；　and　then　began　seeking　among　the　china　before　
her　for　two　clean　cups　for　the　newers。　

The　unsparing　light　revealed　more　ugliness　than　
Katharine　had　seen　in　one　room　for　a　very　long　time。　It　
was　the　ugliness　of　enormous　folds　of　brown　material；　
looped　and　festooned；　of　plush　curtains；　from　which　depended　
balls　and　fringes；　partially　concealing　bookshelves　
swollen　with　black　schooltexts。　Her　eye　was　arrested　by　
crossed　scabbards　of　fretted　wood　upon　the　dull　green　
wall；　and　whereever　there　was　a　high　flat　eminence；　some　
fern　waved　from　a　pot　of　crinkled　china；　or　a　bronze　horse　
reared　so　high　that　the　stump　of　a　tree　had　to　sustain　his　
forequarters。　The　waters　of　family　life　seemed　to　rise　and　
close　over　her　head；　and　she　munched　in　silence。　

At　length　Mrs。　Denham　looked　up　from　her　teacups　and　
remarked：　

“You　see；　Miss　Hilbery；　my　children　all　e　in　at　different　
hours　and　want　different　things。　（The　tray　should　
go　up　if　you’ve　done；　Johnnie。）　My　boy　Charles　is　in　bed　
with　a　cold。　What　else　can　you　expect？—standing　in　the　
wet　playing　football。　We　did　try　drawingroom　tea；　but　it　
didn’t　do。”　

A　boy　of　sixteen；　who　appeared　to　be　Johnnie；　grumbled　
derisively　both　at　the　notion　of　drawingroom　tea　and　at　
the　necessity　of　carrying　a　tray　up　to　his　brother。　But　he　
took　himself　off；　being　enjoined　by　his　mother　to　mind　
what　he　was　doing；　and　shut　the　door　after　him。　

“It’s　much　nicer　like　this；”　said　Katharine；　applying　herself　
with　determination　to　the　dissection　of　her　cake；　
they　had　given　her　too　large　a　slice。　She　knew　that　Mrs。　
Denham　suspected　her　of　critical　parisons。　She　knew　
that　she　was　making　poor　progress　with　her　cake。　Mrs。　
Denham　had　looked　at　her　sufficiently　often　to　make　it　
clear　to　Katharine　that　she　was　asking　who　this　young　
woman　was；　and　why　Ralph　had　brought　her　to　tea　with　

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them。　There　was　an　obvious　reason；　which　Mrs。　Denham　
had　probably　reached　by　this　time。　Outwardly；　she　was　
behaving　with　rather　rusty　and　laborious　civility。　She　was　
making　conversation　about　the　amenities　of　Highgate；　
its　development　and　situation。　

“When　I　first　married；”　she　said；　“Highgate　was　quite　
separate　from　London；　Miss　Hilbery；　and　this　house；　
though　you　wouldn’t　believe　it；　had　a　view　of　apple　orchards。　
That　was　before　the　Middletons　built　their　house　
in　front　of　us。”　

“It　must　be　a　great　advantage　to　live　at　the　top　of　a　
hill；”　said　Katharine。　Mrs。　Denham　agreed　effusively；　as　if　
her　opinion　of　Katharine’s　sense　had　risen。　

“Yes；　indeed；　we　find　it　very　healthy；”　she　said；　and　she　
went　on；　as　people　who　live　in　the　suburbs　so　often　do；　
to　prove　that　it　was　healthier；　more　convenient；　and　less　
spoilt　than　any　suburb　round　London。　She　spoke　with　
such　emphasis　that　it　was　quite　obvious　that　she　expressed　
unpopular　views；　and　that　her　children　disagreed　
with　her。　

“The　ceiling’s　fallen　down　in　the　pantry　again；”　said　

Hester；　a　girl　of　eighteen；　abruptly。　

“The　whole　house　will　be　down　one　of　these　days；”　
James　muttered。　

“Nonsense；”　said　Mrs。　Denham。　“It’s　only　a　little　bit　of　
plaster—I　don’t　see　how　any　house　could　be　expected　to　
stand　the　wear　and　tear　you　give　it。”　Here　some　family　
joke　exploded；　which　Katharine　could　not　follow。　Even　
Mrs。　Denham　laughed　against　her　will。　

“Miss　Hilbery’s　thinking　us　all　so　rude；”　she　added　reprovingly。　
Miss　Hilbery　smiled　and　shook　her　head；　and　
was　conscious　that　a　great　many　eyes　rested　upon　her；　
for　a　moment；　as　if　they　would　find　pleasure　in　discussing　
her　when　she　was　gone。　Owing；　perhaps；　to　this　critical　
glance；　Katharine　decided　that　Ralph　Denham’s　family　
was　monplace；　unshapely；　lacking　in　charm；　and　
fitly　expressed　by　the　hideous　nature　of　their　furniture　
and　decorations。　She　glanced　along　a　mantelpiece　ranged　
with　bronze　chariots；　silver　vases；　and　china　ornaments　
that　were　either　facetious　or　eccentric。　

She　did　not　apply　her　judgment　consciously　to　Ralph；　
but　when　she　looked　at　him；　a　moment　later；　she　rated　

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him　lower　than　at　any　other　time　of　their　acquaintanceship。　


He　had　made　no　effort　to　tide　over　the　disforts　of　
her　introduction；　and　now；　engaged　in　argument　with　his　
brother；　apparently　forgot　her　presence。　She　must　have　
counted　upon　his　support　more　than　she　realized；　for　
this　indifference；　emphasized；　as　it　was；　by　the　insignificant　
monplace　of　his　surroundings；　awoke　her；　not　
only　to　that　ugliness；　but　to　her　own　folly。　She　thought　
of　one　scene　after　another　in　a　few　seconds；　with　that　
shudder　which　is　almost　a　blush。　She　had　believed　him　
when　he　spoke　of　friendship。　She　had　believed　in　a　spiritual　
light　burning　steadily　and　steadfastly　behind　the　
erratic　disorder　and　incoherence　of　life。　The　light　was　
now　gone　out；　suddenly；　as　if　a　sponge　had　blotted　it。　
The　litter　of　the　table　and　the　tedious　but　exacting　conversation　
of　Mrs。　Denham　remained：　they　struck；　indeed；　
upon　a　mind　bereft　of　all　defences；　and；　keenly　conscious　
of　the　degradation　which　is　the　result　of　strife　whether　
victorious　or　not；　she　thought　gloomily　of　her　loneliness；　
of　life’s　futility；　of　the　barren　prose　of　reality；　of　William　

Rodney；　of　her　mother；　and　the　unfinished　book。　

Her　answers　to　Mrs。　Denham　were　perfunctory　to　the　
verge　of　rudeness；　and　to　Ralph；　who　watched　her　narrowly；　
she　seemed　further　away　than　was　patible　with　
her　physical　closeness。　He　glanced　at　her；　and　ground　out　
further　steps　in　his　argument；　determined　that　no　folly　
should　remain　when　this　experience　was　over。　Next　moment；　
a　silence；　sudden　and　plete；　descended　upon　
them　all。　The　silence　of　all　these　people　round　the　untidy　
table　was　enormous　and　hideous；　something　horrible　
seemed　about　to　burst　from　it；　but　they　endured　it　obstinately。　
A　second　later　the　door　opened　and　there　was　a　
stir　of　relief；　cries　of　“Hullo；　Joan！　There’s　nothing　left　
for　you　to　eat；”　broke　up　the　oppressive　concentration　of　
so　many　eyes　upon　the　tablecloth；　and　set　the　waters　of　
family　life　dashing　in　brisk　little　waves　again。　It　was　
obvious　that　Joan　had　some　mysterious　and　beneficent　
power　upon　her　family。　She　went　up　to　Katharine　as　if　
she　had　heard　of　her；　and　was　very　glad　to　see　her　at　last。　
She　explained　that　she　had　been　visiting　an　uncle　who　
was　ill；　and　that　had　kep