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of her eyes； and I always feel that our physical ailments
are so apt to turn into mental ailments。 I think Matthew
Arnold says something of the same kind about Lord Byron。）
But that’s neither here nor there。”
The effect of these parentheses； whether they were introduced
for that purpose or represented a natural instinct
on Mrs。 Hilbery’s part to embellish the bareness of
her discourse； gave Ralph time to perceive that she possessed
all the facts of their situation and was e； somehow；
in the capacity of ambassador。
“I didn’t e here to talk about Lord Byron；” Mrs。
Hilbery continued； with a little laugh； “though I know
that both you and Katharine； unlike other young people
of your generation； still find him worth reading。” She
paused。 “I’m so glad you’ve made Katharine read poetry；
Mr。 Denham！” she exclaimed； “and feel poetry； and look
poetry！ She can’t talk it yet； but she will—oh； she will！”
Ralph； whose hand was grasped and whose tongue almost
refused to articulate； somehow contrived to say that there
were moments when he felt hopeless； utterly hopeless； though
he gave no reason for this statement on his part。
“But you care for her？” Mrs。 Hilbery inquired。
“Good God！” he exclaimed； with a vehemence which
admitted of no question。
“It’s the Church of England service you both object to？”
Mrs。 Hilbery inquired innocently。
“I don’t care a damn what service it is；” Ralph replied。
“You would marry her in Westminster Abbey if the worst
came to the worst？” Mrs。 Hilbery inquired。
“I would marry her in St。 Paul’s Cathedral；” Ralph replied。
His doubts upon this point； which were always
roused by Katharine’s presence； had vanished pletely；
and his strongest wish in the world was to be with her
immediately； since every second he was away from her he
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Night and Day
imagined her slipping farther and farther from him into
one of those states of mind in which he was unrepresented。
He wished to dominate her； to possess her。
“Thank God！” exclaimed Mrs。 Hilbery。 She thanked Him
for a variety of blessings： for the conviction with which
the young man spoke； and not least for the prospect that
on her daughter’s weddingday the noble cadences； the
stately periods； the ancient eloquence of the marriage
service would resound over the heads of a distinguished
congregation gathered together near the very spot where
her father lay quiescent with the other poets of England。
The tears filled her eyes； but she remembered simultaneously
that her carriage was waiting； and with dim eyes
she walked to the door。 Denham followed her downstairs。
It was a strange drive。 For Denham it was without exception
the most unpleasant he had ever taken。 His only
wish was to go as straightly and quickly as possible to
Cheyne Walk； but it soon appeared that Mrs。 Hilbery either
ignored or thought fit to baffle this desire by interposing
various errands of her own。 She stopped the carriage
at postoffices； and coffeeshops； and shops of in
scrutable dignity where the aged attendants had to be
greeted as old friends； and； catching sight of the dome of
St。 Paul’s above the irregular spires of Ludgate Hill； she
pulled the cord impulsively； and gave directions that
Anderson should drive them there。 But Anderson had reasons
of his own for discouraging afternoon worship； and
kept his horse’s nose obstinately towards the west。 After
some minutes； Mrs。 Hilbery realized the situation； and
accepted it goodhumoredly； apologizing to Ralph for his
disappointment。
“Never mind；” she said； “we’ll go to St。 Paul’s another
day； and it may turn out； though I can’t promise that it
will； that he’ll take us past Westminster Abbey； which
would be even better。”
Ralph was scarcely aware of what she went on to say。 Her
mind and body both seemed to have floated into another
region of quicksailing clouds rapidly passing across each
other and enveloping everything in a vaporous indistinctness。
Meanwhile he remained conscious of his own concentrated
desire； his impotence to bring about anything
he wished； and his increasing agony of impatience。
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Virginia Woolf
Suddenly Mrs。 Hilbery pulled the cord with such decision
that even Anderson had to listen to the order which she
leant out of the window to give him。 The carriage pulled
up abruptly in the middle of Whitehall before a large building
dedicated to one of our Government offices。 In a second
Mrs。 Hilbery was mounting the steps； and Ralph was left in
too acute an irritation by this further delay even to speculate
what errand took her now to the Board of Education。
He was about to jump from the carriage and take a cab；
when Mrs。 Hilbery reappeared talking genially to a figure
who remained hidden behind her。
“There’s plenty of room for us all；” she was saying。 “Plenty
of room。 We could find space for four of you； William；” she
added； opening the door； and Ralph found that Rodney
had now joined their pany。 The two men glanced at
each other。 If distress； shame； disfort in its most acute
form were ever visible upon a human face； Ralph could
read them all expressed beyond the eloquence of words
upon the face of his unfortunate panion。 But Mrs。
Hilbery was either pletely unseeing or determined to
appear so。 She went on talking； she talked； it seemed to
both the young men； to some one outside； up in the air。
She talked about Shakespeare； she apostrophized the human
race； she proclaimed the virtues of divine poetry； she
began to recite verses which broke down in the middle。
The great advantage of her discourse was that it was self
supporting。 It nourished itself until Cheyne Walk was
reached upon half a dozen grunts and murmurs。
“Now；” she said； alighting briskly at her door； “here we
are！”
There was something airy and ironical in her voice and
expression as she turned upon the doorstep and looked
at them； which filled both Rodney and Denham with the
same misgivings at having trusted their fortunes to such
an ambassador； and Rodney actually hesitated upon the
threshold and murmured to Denham：
“You go in； Denham。 I …” He was turning tail； but the
door opening and the familiar look of the house asserting
its charm； he bolted in on the wake of the others；
and the door shut upon his escape。 Mrs。 Hilbery led the
way upstairs。 She took them to the drawingroom。 The
fire burnt as usual； the little tables were laid with china
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Night and Day
and silver。 There was nobody there。
“Ah；” she said； “Katharine’s not here。 She must be upstairs
in her room。 You have something to say to her； I
know； Mr。 Denham。 You can find your way？” she vaguely
indicated the ceiling with a gesture of her hand。 She had
bee suddenly serious and posed； mistress in her
own house。 The gesture with which she dismissed him
had a dignity that Ralph never forgot。 She seemed to
make him free with a wave of her hand to all that she
possessed。 He left the room。
The Hilberys’ house was tall； possessing many stories
and passages with closed doors； all； once he had passed
the drawingroom floor； unknown to Ralph。 He mounted as
high as he could and knocked at the first door he came to。
“May I e in？” he asked。
A voice from within answered “Yes。”
He was conscious of a large window； full of light； of a
bare table； and of a long lookingglass。 Katharine had
risen； and was standing with some white papers in her
hand； which slowly fluttered to the ground as she saw
her visitor。 The explanation was a short one。 The sounds
were inarticulate； no one could have understood the meaning
save themselves。 As if the forces of the world were all
at work to tear them asunder they sat； clasping hands；
near enough to be taken even by the malicious eye of
Time himself for a united couple； an indivisible unit。
“Don’t move； don’t go；” she begged of him； when he
stooped to gather the papers she had let fall。 But he took
them in his hands and； giving her by a sudden impulse
his own unfinishe