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had not fathomed； and the mystery of his nature laid
more of a spell upon her than she liked。 Moreover； she
could not prevent herself from doing now what she had
often blamed others of her sex for doing—from endowing
her friend with a kind of heavenly fire； and passing
her life before it for his sanction。
Under this process； the mittee rather dwindled in
importance； the Suffrage shrank； she vowed she would
work harder at the Italian language； she thought she would
take up the study of birds。 But this program for a perfect
life threatened to bee so absurd that she very soon
caught herself out in the evil habit； and was rehearsing
her speech to the mittee by the time the chestnut
colored bricks of Russell Square came in sight。 Indeed；
she never noticed them。 She ran upstairs as usual； and
was pletely awakened to reality by the sight of Mrs。
Seal； on the landing outside the office； inducing a very
large dog to drink water out of a tumbler。
“Miss Markham has already arrived；” Mrs。 Seal remarked；
with due solemnity； “and this is her dog。”
“A very fine dog； too；” said Mary； patting him on the
head。
“Yes。 A magnificent fellow； Mrs。 Seal agreed。 “A kind of
St。 Bernard； she tells me—so like Kit to have a St。 Bernard。
And you guard your mistress well； don’t you； Sailor？
You see that wicked men don’t break into her larder when
she’s out at HER work—helping poor souls who have lost
their way… 。 But we’re late—we must begin！” and scattering
the rest of the water indiscriminately over the floor；
she hurried Mary into the mitteeroom。
139
Night and Day
CHAPTER XIV
Mr。 Clacton was in his glory。 The machinery which he had
perfected and controlled was now about to turn out its
bimonthly product； a mittee meeting； and his pride
in the perfect structure of these assemblies was great。
He loved the jargon of mitteerooms； he loved the
way in which the door kept opening as the clock struck
the hour； in obedience to a few strokes of his pen on a
piece of paper； and when it had opened sufficiently often；
he loved to issue from his inner chamber with documents
in his hands； visibly important； with a preoccupied
expression on his face that might have suited a Prime
Minister advancing to meet his Cabi。 By his orders the
table had been decorated beforehand with six sheets of
blottingpaper； with six pens； six inkpots； a tumbler and
a jug of water； a bell； and； in deference to the taste of
the lady members； a vase of hardy chrysanthemums。 He
had already surreptitiously straightened the sheets of
blottingpaper in relation to the inkpots； and now stood
in front of the fire engaged in conversation with Miss
Markham。 But his eye was on the door； and when Mary
and Mrs。 Seal entered； he gave a little laugh and observed
to the assembly which was scattered about the
room：
“I fancy； ladies and gentlemen； that we are ready to
mence。”
So speaking； he took his seat at the head of the table；
and arranging one bundle of papers upon his right and
another upon his left； called upon Miss Datchet to read
the minutes of the previous meeting。 Mary obeyed。 A keen
observer might have wondered why it was necessary for
the secretary to knit her brows so closely over the tolerably
matteroffact statement before her。 Could there be
any doubt in her mind that it had been resolved to circularize
the provinces with Leaflet No。 3； or to issue a statistical
diagram showing the proportion of married women
to spinsters in New Zealand； or that the profits of
Mrs。 Hipsley’s Bazaar had reached a total of five pounds
eight shillings and twopence halfpenny？
Could any doubt as to the perfect sense and propriety
of these statements be disturbing her？ No one could have
140
Virginia Woolf
guessed； from the look of her； that she was disturbed at
all。 A pleasanter and saner woman than Mary Datchet
was never seen within a mitteeroom。 She seemed a
pound of the autumn leaves and the winter sunshine；
less poetically speaking； she showed both gentleness and
strength； an indefinable promise of soft maternity blending
with her evident fitness for honest labor。 Nevertheless；
she had great difficulty in reducing her mind to
obedience； and her reading lacked conviction； as if； as
was indeed the case； she had lost the power of visualizing
what she read。 And directly the list was pleted；
her mind floated to Lincoln’s Inn Fields and the fluttering
wings of innumerable sparrows。 Was Ralph still enticing
the baldheaded cocksparrow to sit upon his hand？
Had he succeeded？ Would he ever succeed？ She had meant
to ask him why it is that the sparrows in Lincoln’s Inn
Fields are tamer than the sparrows in Hyde Park—perhaps
it is that the passersby are rarer； and they e to
recognize their benefactors。 For the first halfhour of the
mittee meeting； Mary had thus to do battle with the
skeptical presence of Ralph Denham； who threatened to
have it all his own way。 Mary tried half a dozen methods
of ousting him。 She raised her voice； she articulated distinctly；
she looked firmly at Mr。 Clacton’s bald head； she
began to write a note。 To her annoyance； her pencil drew
a little round figure on the blottingpaper； which； she
could not deny； was really a baldheaded cocksparrow。
She looked again at Mr。 Clacton； yes； he was bald； and so
are cocksparrows。 Never was a secretary tormented by
so many unsuitable suggestions； and they all came； alas！
with something ludicrously grotesque about them； which
might； at any moment； provoke her to such flippancy as
would shock her colleagues for ever。 The thought of what
she might say made her bite her lips； as if her lips would
protect her。
But all these suggestions were but flotsam and jetsam
cast to the surface by a more profound disturbance； which；
as she could not consider it at present； manifested its
existence by these grotesque nods and beckonings。 Consider
it； she must； when the mittee was over。 Meanwhile；
she was behaving scandalously； she was looking
out of the window； and thinking of the color of the sky；
141
Night and Day
and of the decorations on the Imperial Hotel； when she
ought to have been shepherding her colleagues； and pinning
them down to the matter in hand。 She could not
bring herself to attach more weight to one project than
to another。 Ralph had said—she could not stop to consider
what he had said； but he had somehow divested the
proceedings of all reality。 And then； without conscious
effort； by some trick of the brain； she found herself being
interested in some scheme for organizing a newspaper
campaign。 Certain articles were to be written； certain
editors approached。 What line was it advisable to
take？ She found herself strongly disapproving of what
Mr。 Clacton was saying。 She mitted herself to the
opinion that now was the time to strike hard。 Directly
she had said this； she felt that she had turned upon Ralph’s
ghost； and she became more and more in earnest； and
anxious to bring the others round to her point of view。
Once more； she knew exactly and indisputably what is
right and what is wrong。 As if emerging from a mist； the
old foes of the public good loomed ahead of her—capitalists；
newspaper proprietors； antisuffragists； and； in
some ways most pernicious of all； the masses who take
no interest one way or another—among whom； for the
time being； she certainly discerned the features of Ralph
Denham。 Indeed； when Miss Markham asked her to suggest
the names of a few friends of hers； she expressed
herself with unusual bitterness：
“My friends think all this kind of thing useless。” She
felt that she was really saying that to Ralph himself。
“Oh； they’re that sort； are they？” said Miss Markham；
with a little laugh； and with renewed vigor their legions
charged the foe。
Mary’s spirits had been low when she entered the mittee
room； but now they were considerably improved。
She knew the ways of this world； it was a shapely； orderly
place； she felt convinced of its right and its wrong； and
the