《夜与日》第140章

telephone　had　been　miraculously　connected　with　some　
higher　atmosphere　pungent　with　the　scent　of　thyme　and　
the　savor　of　salt；　Katharine　could　hardly　have　breathed　
in　a　keener　sense　of　exhilaration。　She　ran　downstairs　on　
the　crest　of　it。　She　was　amazed　to　find　herself　already　
mitted　by　William　and　Cassandra　to　marry　the　owner　
of　the　halting　voice　she　had　just　heard　on　the　telephone。　
The　tendency　of　her　spirit　seemed　to　be　in　an　altogether　
different　direction；　and　of　a　different　nature。　She　had　
only　to　look　at　Cassandra　to　see　what　the　love　that　results　
in　an　engagement　and　marriage　means。　She　considered　
for　a　moment；　and　then　said：　“If　you　don’t　want　to　
tell　people　yourselves；　I’ll　do　it　for　you。　I　know　William　
has　feelings　about　these　matters　that　make　it　very　difficult　
for　him　to　do　anything。”　
“Because　he’s　fearfully　sensitive　about　other　people’s　
feelings；”　said　Cassandra。　“The　idea　that　he　could　upset　
Aunt　Maggie　or　Uncle　Trevor　would　make　him　ill　for　weeks。”　
This　interpretation　of　what　she　was　used　to　call　William’s　
conventionality　was　new　to　Katharine。　And　yet　she　felt　it　
now　to　be　the　true　one。　
“Yes；　you’re　right；”　she　said。　
“And　then　he　worships　beauty。　He　wants　life　to　be　beautiful　
in　every　part　of　it。　Have　you　ever　noticed　how　exquisitely　
he　finishes　everything？　Look　at　the　address　on　
that　envelope。　Every　letter　is　perfect。”　
Whether　this　applied　also　to　the　sentiments　expressed　
in　the　letter；　Katharine　was　not　so　sure；　but　when　William’s　
solicitude　was　spent　upon　Cassandra　it　not　only　failed　to　
irritate　her；　as　it　had　done　when　she　was　the　object　of　it；　
but　appeared；　as　Cassandra　said；　the　fruit　of　his　love　of　
beauty。　
“Yes；”　she　said；　“he　loves　beauty。”　
“I　hope　we　shall　have　a　great　many　children；”　said　
Cassandra。　“He　loves　children。”　
This　remark　made　Katharine　realize　the　depths　of　their　
intimacy　better　than　any　other　words　could　have　done；　
she　was　jealous　for　one　moment；　but　the　next　she　was　
376　
Virginia　Woolf　
humiliated。　She　had　known　William　for　years；　and　she　
had　never　once　guessed　that　he　loved　children。　She　looked　
at　the　queer　glow　of　exaltation　in　Cassandra’s　eyes；　
through　which　she　was　beholding　the　true　spirit　of　a　
human　being；　and　wished　that　she　would　go　on　talking　
about　William　for　ever。　Cassandra　was　not　unwilling　to　
gratify　her。　She　talked　on。　The　morning　slipped　away。　
Katharine　scarcely　changed　her　position　on　the　edge　of　
her　father’s　writingtable；　and　Cassandra　never　opened　
the　“History　of　England。”　
And　yet　it　must　be　confessed　that　there　were　vast　lapses　
in　the　attention　which　Katharine　bestowed　upon　her　
cousin。　The　atmosphere　was　wonderfully　congenial　for　
thoughts　of　her　own。　She　lost　herself　sometimes　in　such　
deep　reverie　that　Cassandra；　pausing；　could　look　at　her　
for　moments　unperceived。　What　could　Katharine　be　thinking　
about；　unless　it　were　Ralph　Denham？　She　was　satisfied；　
by　certain　random　replies；　that　Katharine　had　wandered　
a　little　from　the　subject　of　William’s　perfections。　
But　Katharine　made　no　sign。　She　always　ended　these　
pauses　by　saying　something　so　natural　that　Cassandra　
was　deluded　into　giving　fresh　examples　of　her　absorbing　
theme。　Then　they　lunched；　and　the　only　sign　that　
Katharine　gave　of　abstraction　was　to　forget　to　help　the　
pudding。　She　looked　so　like　her　mother；　as　she　sat　there　
oblivious　of　the　tapioca；　that　Cassandra　was　startled　into　
exclaiming：　
“How　like　Aunt　Maggie　you　look！”　
“Nonsense；”　said　Katharine；　with　more　irritation　than　
the　remark　seemed　to　call　for。　
In　truth；　now　that　her　mother　was　away；　Katharine　did　
feel　less　sensible　than　usual；　but　as　she　argued　it　to　
herself；　there　was　much　less　need　for　sense。　Secretly；　she　
was　a　little　shaken　by　the　evidence　which　the　morning　
had　supplied　of　her　immense　capacity　for—what　could　
one　call　it？—rambling　over　an　infinite　variety　of　thoughts　
that　were　too　foolish　to　be　named。　She　was；　for　example；　
walking　down　a　road　in　Northumberland　in　the　August　
sunset；　at　the　inn　she　left　her　panion；　who　was　Ralph　
Denham；　and　was　transported；　not　so　much　by　her　own　
feet　as　by　some　invisible　means；　to　the　top　of　a　high　hill。　
Here　the　scents；　the　sounds　among　the　dry　heatherroots；　
377　
Night　and　Day　
the　grassblades　pressed　upon　the　palm　of　her　hand；　were　
all　so　perceptible　that　she　could　experience　each　one　
separately。　After　this　her　mind　made　excursions　into　the　
dark　of　the　air；　or　settled　upon　the　surface　of　the　sea；　
which　could　be　discovered　over　there；　or　with　equal　unreason　
it　returned　to　its　couch　of　bracken　beneath　the　
stars　of　midnight；　and　visited　the　snow　valleys　of　the　
moon。　These　fancies　would　have　been　in　no　way　strange；　
since　the　walls　of　every　mind　are　decorated　with　some　
such　tracery；　but　she　found　herself　suddenly　pursuing　such　
thoughts　with　an　extreme　ardor；　which　became　a　desire　
to　change　her　actual　condition　for　something　matching　
the　conditions　of　her　dream。　Then　she　started；　then　she　
awoke　to　the　fact　that　Cassandra　was　looking　at　her　in　
amazement。　
Cassandra　would　have　liked　to　feel　certain　that；　when　
Katharine　made　no　reply　at　all　or　one　wide　of　the　mark；　
she　was　making　up　her　mind　to　get　married　at　once；　but　
it　was　difficult；　if　this　were　so；　to　account　for　some　remarks　
that　Katharine　let　fall　about　the　future。　She　recurred　
several　times　to　the　summer；　as　if　she　meant　to　
spend　that　season　in　solitary　wandering。　She　seemed　to　
have　a　plan　in　her　mind　which　required　Bradshaws　and　
the　names　of　inns。　
Cassandra　was　driven　finally；　by　her　own　unrest；　to　put　
on　her　clothes　and　wander　out　along　the　streets　of　Chelsea；　
on　the　pretence　that　she　must　buy　something。　But；　in　
her　ignorance　of　the　way；　she　became　panicstricken　at　
the　thought　of　being　late；　and　no　sooner　had　she　found　
the　shop　she　wanted；　than　she　fled　back　again　in　order　
to　be　at　home　when　William　came。　He　came；　indeed；　five　
minutes　after　she　had　sat　down　by　the　teatable；　and　she　
had　the　happiness　of　receiving　him　alone。　His　greeting　
put　her　doubts　of　his