[夜与日].(night.and.day).(英)弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙.文字版-第41部分

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all　about　her　scheme　of　hours。　Mrs。　Hilbery　was　secretly　
delighted。　Her　relief　at　finding　herself　excused　
manifested　itself　in　a　series　of　sidelong　glances　of　sly　
humor　in　her　daughter’s　direction；　and　the　indulgence　
put　her　in　the　best　of　spirits。　Was　she　to　be　allowed　merely　
to　sit　and　talk？　It　was　so　much　pleasanter　to　sit　in　a　nice　
room　filled　with　all　sorts　of　interesting　odds　and　ends　
which　she　hadn’t　looked　at　for　a　year；　at　least；　than　to　

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Night　and　Day　

seek　out　one　date　which　contradicted　another　in　a　dictionary。　


“We’ve　all　had　perfect　husbands；”　she　concluded；　generously　
forgiving　Sir　Francis　all　his　faults　in　a　lump。　“Not　
that　I　think　a　bad　temper　is　really　a　fault　in　a　man。　I　
don’t　mean　a　bad　temper；”　she　corrected　herself；　with　a　
glance　obviously　in　the　direction　of　Sir　Francis。　“I　should　
say　a　quick；　impatient　temper。　Most；　in　fact　ALL　great　
men　have　had　bad　tempers—except　your　grandfather；　
Katharine；”　and　here　she　sighed；　and　suggested　that；　
perhaps；　she　ought　to　go　down　to　the　library。　

“But　in　the　ordinary　marriage；　is　it　necessary　to　give　
way　to　one’s　husband？”　said　Katharine；　taking　no　notice　
of　her　mother’s　suggestion；　blind　even　to　the　depression　
which　had　now　taken　possession　of　her　at　the　thought　of　
her　own　inevitable　death。　

“I　should　say　yes；　certainly；”　said　Lady　Otway；　with　a　
decision　most　unusual　for　her。　

“Then　one　ought　to　make　up　one’s　mind　to　that　before　
one　is　married；”　Katharine　mused；　seeming　to　address　
herself。　

Mrs。　Hilbery　was　not　much　interested　in　these　remarks；　
which　seemed　to　have　a　melancholy　tendency；　and　to　
revive　her　spirits　she　had　recourse　to　an　infallible　rem
edy—she　looked　out　of　the　window。　

“Do　look　at　that　lovely　little　blue　bird！”　she　exclaimed；　
and　her　eye　looked　with　extreme　pleasure　at　the　soft　sky。　
at　the　trees；　at　the　green　fields　visible　behind　those　trees；　
and　at　the　leafless　branches　which　surrounded　the　body　
of　the　small　blue　tit。　Her　sympathy　with　nature　was　exquisite。　


“Most　women　know　by　instinct　whether　they　can　give　it　
or　not；”　Lady　Otway　slipped　in　quickly；　in　rather　a　low　
voice；　as　if　she　wanted　to　get　this　said　while　her　sisterin
law’s　attention　was　diverted。　“And　if　not—well　then；　
my　advice　would　be—don’t　marry。”　

“Oh；　but　marriage　is　the　happiest　life　for　a　woman；”　
said　Mrs。　Hilbery；　catching　the　word　marriage；　as　she　
brought　her　eyes　back　to　the　room　again。　Then　she　turned　
her　mind　to　what　she　had　said。　

“It’s　the　most　interesting　life；”　she　corrected　herself。　
She　looked　at　her　daughter　with　a　look　of　vague　alarm。　It　

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was　the　kind　of　maternal　scrutiny　which　suggests　that；　in　
looking　at　her　daughter　a　mother　is　really　looking　at　herself。　
She　was　not　altogether　satisfied；　but　she　purposely　
made　no　attempt　to　break　down　the　reserve　which；　as　a　
matter　of　fact；　was　a　quality　she　particularly　admired　and　
depended　upon　in　her　daughter。　But　when　her　mother　
said　that　marriage　was　the　most　interesting　life；　Katharine　
felt；　as　she　was　apt　to　do　suddenly；　for　no　definite　reason；　
that　they　understood　each　other；　in　spite　of　differing　
in　every　possible　way。　Yet　the　wisdom　of　the　old　seems　
to　apply　more　to　feelings　which　we　have　in　mon　with　
the　rest　of　the　human　race　than　to　our　feelings　as　individuals；　
and　Katharine　knew　that　only　some　one　of　her　
own　age　could　follow　her　meaning。　Both　these　elderly　
women　seemed　to　her　to　have　been　content　with　so　little　
happiness；　and　at　the　moment　she　had　not　sufficient　force　
to　feel　certain　that　their　version　of　marriage　was　the　
wrong　one。　In　London；　certainly；　this　temperate　attitude　
toward　her　own　marriage　had　seemed　to　her　just。　Why　
had　she　now　changed？　Why　did　it　now　depress　her？　It　
never　occurred　to　her　that　her　own　conduct　could　be　any


thing　of　a　puzzle　to　her　mother；　or　that　elder　people　are　
as　much　affected　by　the　young　as　the　young　are　by　them。　
And　yet　it　was　true　that　love—passion　—whatever　one　
chose　to　call　it；　had　played　far　less　part　in　Mrs。　Hilbery’s　
life　than　might　have　seemed　likely；　judging　from　her　enthusiastic　
and　imaginative　temperament。　She　had　always　
been　more　interested　by　other　things。　Lady　Otway；　strange　
though　it　seemed；　guessed　more　accurately　at　Katharine’s　
state　of　mind　than　her　mother　did。　

“Why　don’t　we　all　live　in　the　country？”　exclaimed　Mrs。　
Hilbery；　once　more　looking　out　of　the　window。　“I’m　sure　
one　would　think　such　beautiful　things　if　one　lived　in　the　
country。　No　horrid　slum　houses　to　depress　one；　no　trams　
or　motorcars；　and　the　people　all　looking　so　plump　and　
cheerful。　Isn’t　there　some　little　cottage　near　you；　Charlotte；　
which　would　do　for　us；　with　a　spare　room；　perhaps；　
in　case　we　asked　a　friend　down？　And　we　should　save　so　
much　money　that　we　should　be　able　to　travel—”　

“Yes。　You　would　find　it　very　nice　for　a　week　or　two；　no　
doubt；”　said　Lady　Otway。　“But　what　hour　would　you　like　the　
carriage　this　morning？”　she　continued；　touching　the　bell。　

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“Katharine　shall　decide；”　said　Mrs。　Hilbery；　feeling　herself　
unable　to　prefer　one　hour　to　another。　“And　I　was　just　
going　to　tell　you；　Katharine；　how；　when　I　woke　this　morning；　
everything　seemed　so　clear　in　my　head　that　if　I’d　
had　a　pencil　I　believe　I　could　have　written　quite　a　long　
chapter。　When　we’re　out　on　our　drive　I　shall　find　us　a　
house。　A　few　trees　round　it；　and　a　little　garden；　a　pond　
with　a　Chinese　duck；　a　study　for　your　father；　a　study　for　
me；　and　a　sitting　room　for　Katharine；　because　then　she’ll　
be　a　married　lady。”　

At　this　Katharine　shivered　a　little；　drew　up　to　the　fire；　
and　warmed　her　hands　by　spreading　them　over　the　topmost　
peak　of　the　coal。　She　wished　to　bring　the　talk　back　
to　marriage　again；　in　order　to　hear　Aunt　Charlotte’s　views；　
but　she　did　not　know　how　to　do　this。　

“Let　me　look　at　your　engagementring；　Aunt　Charlotte；”　
she　said；　noticing　her　own。　

She　took　the　cluster　of　green　stones　and　turned　it　round　
and　round；　but　she　did　not　know　what　to　say　next。　

“That　poor　old　ring　was　a　sad　disappointment　to　me　
when　I　first　had　it；”　Lady　Otway　mused。　“I’d　set　my　heart　

on　a　diamond　ring；　but　I　never　liked　to　tell　Frank；　naturally。　
He　bought　it　at　Simla。”　

Katharine　turned　the　ring　round　once　more；　and　gave　it　
back　to　her　aunt　without　speaking。　And　while　she　turned　
it　round　her　lips　set　themselves　firmly　together；　and　it　
seemed　to　her　that　she　could　satisfy　William　as　these　
women　had　satisfied　their　husbands；　she　could　pretend　
to　like　emeralds　when　she　preferred　diamonds。　Having　
replaced　her　ring；　Lady　Otway　remarked　that　it　was　chilly；　
though　not　more　so　than　one　must　expect　at　this　time　of　
year。　Indeed；　one　ought　to　be　thankful　to　see　the　sun　at　
all；　and　she　advised　them　both　to　dress　warmly　for　their　
drive。　Her　aunt’s　stock　of　monplaces；　Katharine　sometimes　
suspected；　had　been　laid　in　on　purpose　to　fill　silences　
with；　and　had　little　to　do　with　her　private　thoughts。　
But　at　this　moment　they　seemed　terribly　in　keeping　with　
her　own　conclusions；　so　that　she　took　up　her　knitting　
again　and　listened；　chiefly　with　a　view　to　confirming　
herself　in　the　belief　that　to　be　engaged　to　marry　some　
one　with　whom　you　are　not　in　love　is　an　inevitable　step　
in　a　world　where　the　existence　of　passion　is　only　a　

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traveller’s　story　brought　from　the　heart　of　deep　forests　
and　told　so　rarely　that　wise　people　doubt　whether　the　
story　can　be　true。　She　did　her　best　to　listen　to　her　mother　
asking　for　news　of　John；　and　to　her　aunt　replying　with　
the　authentic　history　of　Hilda’s　engagement　to　an　officer　
in　the　Indian　Army；　but　she　cast　her　mind　alternately　
towards　forest　paths　and　starry　blossoms；　and　towards　
pages　of　neatly　written　mathematical　signs。　When　her　
mind　took　this　turn　her　marriage　seemed　no　more　than　
an　archway　through　which　it　was　necessary　to　pass　in　
order　to　have　her　desire。　At　such　times　the　current　of　her　
nature　ran　in　its　deep　narrow　channel　with　great　force　
and　with　an　alarming　lack　of　consideration　for　the　feelings　
of　others。　Just　as　the　two　elder　ladies　had　finished　
their　survey　of　the　family　prospects；　and　Lady　Otway　was　
nervously　anticipating　some　general　statement　as　to　life　
and　death　from　her　sisterinlaw；　Cassandra　burst　into　
the　room　with　the　news　that　the　carriage　was　at　the　door。　

“Why　didn’t　Andrews　tell　me　himself？”　said　Lady　Otway；　
peevishly；　blaming　her　servants　for　not　living　up　to　her　
ideals。　

When　Mrs。　Hilbery　and　Katharine　arrived　in　the　hall；　
ready　dressed　for　their　drive；　they　found　that　the　usual　
discussion　was　going　forward　as　to　the　plans　of　the　rest　
of　the　family。　In　token　of　this；　a　great　many　doors　were　
opening　and　shutting；　two　or　three　people　stood　irresolutely　
on　the　stairs；　now　going　a　few　steps　up；　and　now　a　
few　steps　down；　and　Sir　Francis　himself　had　e　out　
from　his　study；　with　the　“Times”　under　his　arm；　and　a　
plaint　about　noise　and　draughts　from　the　open　door　
which；　at　least；　had　the　effect　of　bundling　the　people　
who　did　not　want　to　go　into　the　carriage；　and　sending　
those　who　did　not　want　to　stay　back　to　their　rooms。　It　
was　decided　that　Mrs。　Hilbery；　Katharine；　Rodney；　and　
Henry　should　drive　to　Lincoln；　and　any　one　else　who　wished　
to　go　should　follow　on　bicycles　or　in　the　ponycart。　Every　
one　who　stayed　at　Stogdon　House　had　to　make　this　expedition　
to　Lincoln　in　obedience　to　Lady　Otway’s　conception　
of　the　right　way　to　entertain　her　guests；　which　she　
had　imbibed　from　reading　in　fashionable　papers　of　the　
behavior　of　Christmas　parties　in　ducal　houses。　The　carriage　
horses　were　both　fat　and　aged；　still　they　matched；　

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the　carriage　was　shaky　and　unfortable；　but　the　Otway　
arms　were　visible　on　the　panels。　Lady　Otway　stood　on　the　
topmost　step；　wrapped　in　a　white　shawl；　and　waved　her　
hand　almost　mechanically　until　they　had　turned　the　corner　
under　the　laurelbushes；　when　she　retired　indoors　
with　a　sense　that　she　had　played　her　part；　and　a　sigh　at　
the　thought　that　none　of