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[夜与日].(night.and.day).(英)弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙.文字版-第98部分


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“Anyhow; my behavior hasn’t spoiled your visit。” 

“No;” Cassandra allowed once more。 She was pletely 
at a loss。 In her forecast of the interview she had taken it 
for granted that Katharine; after an outburst of incredulity; 
would agree that Cassandra must return home as 
soon as possible。 But Katharine; on the contrary; accepted 
her statement at once; seemed neither shocked nor surprised; 
and merely looked rather more thoughtful than 
usual。 From being a mature woman charged with an important 
mission; Cassandra shrunk to the stature of an 
inexperienced child。 

“Do you think I’ve been very foolish about it?” she 
asked。 

349 



Night and Day 

Katharine made no answer; but still sat deliberating silently; 
and a certain feeling of alarm took possession of 
Cassandra。 Perhaps her words had struck far deeper than 
she had thought; into depths beyond her reach; as so much 
of Katharine was beyond her reach。 She thought suddenly 
that she had been playing with very dangerous tools。 

Looking at her at length; Katharine asked slowly; as if 
she found the question very difficult to ask。 

“But do you care for William?” 

She marked the agitation and bewilderment of the girl’s 
expression; and how she looked away from her。 

“Do you mean; am I in love with him?” Cassandra asked; 
breathing quickly; and nervously moving her hands。 

“Yes; in love with him;” Katharine repeated。 

“How can I love the man you’re engaged to marry?” 
Cassandra burst out。 

“He may be in love with you。” 

“I don’t think you’ve any right to say such things; 
Katharine;” Cassandra exclaimed。 “Why do you say them? 
Don’t you mind in the least how William behaves to other 
women? If I were engaged; I couldn’t bear it!” 

“We’re not engaged;” said Katharine; after a pause。 

“Katharine!” Cassandra cried。 

“No; we’re not engaged;” Katharine repeated。 “But no 
one knows it but ourselves。” 

“But why—I don’t understand—you’re not engaged!” 
Cassandra said again。 “Oh; that explains it! You’re not in 
love with him! You don’t want to marry him!” 

“We aren’t in love with each other any longer;” said 
Katharine; as if disposing of something for ever and ever。 

“How queer; how strange; how unlike other people you 
are; Katharine;” Cassandra said; her whole body and voice 
seeming to fall and collapse together; and no trace of anger 
or excitement remaining; but only a dreamy quietude。 

“You’re not in love with him?” 

“But I love him;” said Katharine。 

Cassandra remained bowed; as if by the weight of the 
revelation; for some little while longer。 Nor did Katharine 
speak。 Her attitude was that of some one who wishes to 
be concealed as much as possible from observation。 She 
sighed profoundly; she was absolutely silent; and apparently 
overe by her thoughts。 

350 



Virginia Woolf 

“D’you know what time it is?” she said at length; and 
shook her pillow; as if making ready for sleep。 

Cassandra rose obediently; and once more took up her 
candle。 Perhaps the white dressinggown; and the loosened 
hair; and something unseeing in the expression of 
the eyes gave her a likeness to a woman walking in her 
sleep。 Katharine; at least; thought so。 

“There’s no reason why I should go home; then?” 
Cassandra said; pausing。 “Unless you want me to go; 
Katharine? What do you want me to do?” 

For the first time their eyes met。 

“You wanted us to fall in love;” Cassandra exclaimed; as 
if she read the certainty there。 But as she looked she saw 
a sight that surprised her。 The tears rose slowly in 
Katharine’s eyes and stood there; brimming but contained—
the tears of some profound emotion; happiness; 
grief; renunciation; an emotion so plex in its nature 
that to express it was impossible; and Cassandra; bending 
her head and receiving the tears upon her cheek; 
accepted them in silence as the consecration of her love。 

“Please; miss;” said the maid; about eleven o’clock on 

the following morning; “Mrs。 Milvain is in the kitchen。” 

A long wicker basket of flowers and branches had arrived 
from the country; and Katharine; kneeling upon the 
floor of the drawingroom; was sorting them while 
Cassandra watched her from an armchair; and absentmindedly 
made spasmodic offers of help which were not 
accepted。 The maid’s message had a curious effect upon 
Katharine。 

She rose; walked to the window; and; the maid being 
gone; said emphatically and even tragically: 

“You know what that means。” 

Cassandra had understood nothing。 

“Aunt Celia is in the kitchen;” Katharine repeated。 

“Why in the kitchen?” Cassandra asked; not unnaturally。 


“Probably because she’s discovered something;” 
Katharine replied。 Cassandra’s thoughts flew to the subject 
of her preoccupation。 

“About us?” she inquired。 

“Heaven knows;” Katharine replied。 “I shan’t let her 
stay in the kitchen; though。 I shall bring her up here。” 

351 



Night and Day 

The sternness with which this was said suggested that 
to bring Aunt Celia upstairs was; for some reason; a disciplinary 
measure。 

“For goodness’ sake; Katharine;” Cassandra exclaimed; 
jumping from her chair and showing signs of agitation; 
“don’t be rash。 Don’t let her suspect。 Remember; nothing’s 
certain—” 

Katharine assured her by nodding her head several times; 
but the manner in which she left the room was not calculated 
to inspire plete confidence in her diplomacy。 

Mrs。 Milvain was sitting; or rather perching; upon the 
edge of a chair in the servants’ room。 Whether there was 
any sound reason for her choice of a subterranean chamber; 
or whether it corresponded with the spirit of her 
quest; Mrs。 Milvain invariably came in by the back door 
and sat in the servants’ room when she was engaged in 
confidential family transactions。 The ostensible reason 
she gave was that neither Mr。 nor Mrs。 Hilbery should be 
disturbed。 But; in truth; Mrs。 Milvain depended even more 
than most elderly women of her generation upon the delicious 
emotions of intimacy; agony; and secrecy; and the 

additional thrill provided by the basement was one not 
lightly to be forfeited。 She protested almost plaintively 
when Katharine proposed to go upstairs。 

“I’ve something that I want to say to you in private;” 
she said; hesitating reluctantly upon the threshold of her 
ambush。 

“The drawingroom is empty—” 

“But we might meet your mother upon the stairs。 We 
might disturb your father;” Mrs。 Milvain objected; taking 
the precaution to speak in a whisper already。 

But as Katharine’s presence was absolutely necessary 
to the success of the interview; and as Katharine obstinately 
receded up the kitchen stairs; Mrs。 Milvain had no 
course but to follow her。 She glanced furtively about her 
as she proceeded upstairs; drew her skirts together; and 
stepped with circumspection past all doors; whether they 
were open or shut。 

“Nobody will overhear us?” she murmured; when the parative 
sanctuary of the drawingroom had been reached。 
“I see that I have interrupted you;” she added; glancing at 
the flowers strewn upon the floor。 A moment later she 

352 



Virginia Woolf 

inquired; “Was some one sitting with you?” noticing a 
handkerchief that Cassandra had dropped in her flight。 

“Cassandra was helping me to put the flowers in water;” 
said Katharine; and she spoke so firmly and clearly 
that Mrs。 Milvain glanced nervously at the main door and 
then at the curtain which divided the little room with the 
relics from the drawingroom。 

“Ah; Cassandra is still with you;” she remarked。 “And 
did William send you those lovely flowers?” 

Katharine sat down opposite her aunt and said neither 
yes nor no。 She looked past her; and it might have been 
thought that she was considering very critically the pattern 
of the curtains。 Another advantage of the basement; 
from Mrs。 Milvain’s point of view; was that it made it 
necessary to sit very close together; and the light was 
dim pared with that which now poured thro

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