[夜与日].(night.and.day).(英)弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙.文字版-第48章

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understand　that　you　rule　your　life　by　the　stars？”　

She　let　this　pass；　either　because　she　did　not　attend　to　
it；　or　because　the　tone　was　not　to　her　liking。　

Once　more　she　paused；　and　then　she　inquired：　

“But　do　you　always　understand　why　you　do　everything？　
Ought　one　to　understand？　People　like　my　mother　understand；”　
she　reflected。　“Now　I　must　go　down　to　them；　I　
suppose；　and　see　what’s　happening。”　

“What　could　be　happening？”　Henry　protested。　

“Oh；　they　may　want　to　settle　something；”　she　replied　
vaguely；　putting　her　feet　on　the　ground；　resting　her　chin　
on　her　hands；　and　looking　out　of　her　large　dark　eyes　
contemplatively　at　the　fire。　

“And　then　there’s　William；”　she　added；　as　if　by　an　afterthought。　


Henry　very　nearly　laughed；　but　restrained　himself。　

“Do　they　know　what　coals　are　made　of；　Henry？”　she　
asked；　a　moment　later。　

“Mares’　tails；　I　believe；”　he　hazarded。　
“Have　you　ever　been　down　a　coalmine？”　she　went　on。　
“Don’t　let’s　talk　about　coalmines；　Katharine；”　he　pro


tested。　“We　shall　probably　never　see　each　other　again。　
When　you’re　married—”　
Tremendously　to　his　surprise；　he　saw　the　tears　stand　in　

her　eyes。　
“Why　do　you　all　tease　me？”　she　said。　“It　isn’t　kind。”　
Henry　could　not　pretend　that　he　was　altogether　igno


rant　of　her　meaning；　though；　certainly；　he　had　never　
guessed　that　she　minded　the　teasing。　But　before　he　knew　
what　to　say；　her　eyes　were　clear　again；　and　the　sudden　
crack　in　the　surface　was　almost　filled　up。　

“Things　aren’t　easy；　anyhow；”　she　stated。　
Obeying　an　impulse　of　genuine　affection；　Henry　spoke。　
“Promise　me；　Katharine；　that　if　I　can　ever　help　you；　


you　will　let　me。”　

She　seemed　to　consider；　looking　once　more　into　the　red　
of　the　fire；　and　decided　to　refrain　from　any　explanation。　
“Yes；　I　promise　that；”　she　said　at　length；　and　Henry　felt　
himself　gratified　by　her　plete　sincerity；　and　began　to　

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Night　and　Day　

tell　her　now　about　the　coalmine；　in　obedience　to　her　
love　of　facts。　

They　were；　indeed；　descending　the　shaft　in　a　small　cage；　
and　could　hear　the　picks　of　the　miners；　something　like　
the　gnawing　of　rats；　in　the　earth　beneath　them；　when　
the　door　was　burst　open；　without　any　knocking。　

“Well；　here　you　are！”　Rodney　exclaimed。　Both　Katharine　
and　Henry　turned　round　very　quickly　and　rather　guiltily。　
Rodney　was　in　evening　dress。　It　was　clear　that　his　temper　
was　ruffled。　

“That’s　where　you’ve　been　all　the　time；”　he　repeated；　
looking　at　Katharine。　

“I’ve　only　been　here　about　ten　minutes；”　she　replied。　

“My　dear　Katharine；　you　left　the　drawingroom　over　an　
hour　ago。”　

She　said　nothing。　

“Does　it　very　much　matter？”　Henry　asked。　

Rodney　found　it　hard　to　be　unreasonable　in　the　presence　
of　another　man；　and　did　not　answer　him。　

“They　don’t　like　it；”　he　said。　“It　isn’t　kind　to　old　people　
to　leave　them　alone—although　I’ve　no　doubt　it’s　much　

more　amusing　to　sit　up　here　and　talk　to　Henry。”　

“We　were　discussing　coalmines；”　said　Henry　urbanely。　

“Yes。　But　we　were　talking　about　much　more　interesting　
things　before　that；”　said　Katharine。　

From　the　apparent　determination　to　hurt　him　with　which　
she　spoke；　Henry　thought　that　some　sort　of　explosion　on　
Rodney’s　part　was　about　to　take　place。　

“I　can　quite　understand　that；”　said　Rodney；　with　his　
little　chuckle；　leaning　over　the　back　of　his　chair　and　tapping　
the　woodwork　lightly　with　his　fingers。　They　were　all　
silent；　and　the　silence　was　acutely　unfortable　to　Henry；　
at　least。　

“Was　it　very　dull；　William？”　Katharine　suddenly　asked；　
with　a　plete　change　of　tone　and　a　little　gesture　of　
her　hand。　

“Of　course　it　was　dull；”　William　said　sulkily。　

“Well；　you　stay　and　talk　to　Henry；　and　I’ll　go　down；”　
she　replied。　

She　rose　as　she　spoke；　and　as　she　turned　to　leave　the　
room；　she　laid　her　hand；　with　a　curiously　caressing　gesture；　
upon　Rodney’s　shoulder。　Instantly　Rodney　clasped　

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Virginia　Woolf　

her　hand　in　his；　with　such　an　impulse　of　emotion　that　
Henry　was　annoyed；　and　rather　ostentatiously　opened　a　
book。　

“I　shall　e　down　with　you；”　said　William；　as　she　drew　
back　her　hand；　and　made　as　if　to　pass　him。　

“Oh　no；”　she　said　hastily。　“You　stay　here　and　talk　to　
Henry。”　

“Yes；　do；”　said　Henry；　shutting　up　his　book　again。　His　
invitation　was　polite；　without　being　precisely　cordial。　
Rodney　evidently　hesitated　as　to　the　course　he　should　
pursue；　but　seeing　Katharine　at　the　door；　he　exclaimed：　

“No。　I　want　to　e　with　you。”　

She　looked　back；　and　said　in　a　very　manding　tone；　
and　with　an　expression　of　authority　upon　her　face：　

“It’s　useless　for　you　to　e。　I　shall　go　to　bed　in　ten　
minutes。　Good　night。”　

She　nodded　to　them　both；　but　Henry　could　not　help　
noticing　that　her　last　nod　was　in　his　direction。　Rodney　
sat　down　rather　heavily。　

His　mortification　was　so　obvious　that　Henry　scarcely　
liked　to　open　the　conversation　with　some　remark　of　a　

literary　character。　On　the　other　hand；　unless　he　checked　
him；　Rodney　might　begin　to　talk　about　his　feelings；　and　
irreticence　is　apt　to　be　extremely　painful；　at　any　rate　in　
prospect。　He　therefore　adopted　a　middle　course；　that　is　
to　say；　he　wrote　a　note　upon　the　flyleaf　of　his　book；　
which　ran；　“The　situation　is　being　most　unfortable。”　
This　he　decorated　with　those　flourishes　and　decorative　
borders　which　grow　of　themselves　upon　these　occasions；　
and　as　he　did　so；　he　thought　to　himself　that　
whatever　Katharine’s　difficulties　might　be；　they　did　not　
justify　her　behavior。　She　had　spoken　with　a　kind　of　brutality　
which　suggested　that；　whether　it　is　natural　or　assumed；　
women　have　a　peculiar　blindness　to　the　feelings　
of　men。　

The　penciling　of　this　note　gave　Rodney　time　to　recover　
himself。　Perhaps；　for　he　was　a　very　vain　man；　he　was　
more　hurt　that　Henry　had　seen　him　rebuffed　than　by　the　
rebuff　itself。　He　was　in　love　with　Katharine；　and　vanity　is　
not　decreased　but　increased　by　love；　especially；　one　may　
hazard；　in　the　presence　of　one’s　own　sex。　But　Rodney　
enjoyed　the　courage　which　springs　from　that　laughable　

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Night　and　Day　

and　lovable　defect；　and　when　he　had　mastered　his　first　
impulse；　in　some　way　to　make　a　fool　of　himself；　he　drew　
inspiration　from　the　perfect　fit　of　his　evening　dress。　He　
chose　a　cigarette；　tapped　it　on　the　back　of　his　hand；　
displayed　his　exquisite　pumps　on　the　edge　of　the　fender；　
and　summoned　his　selfrespect。　

“You’ve　several　big　estates　round　here；　Otway；”　he　began。　
“Any　good　hunting？　Let　me　see；　what　pack　would　it　
be？　Who’s　your　great　man？”　

“Sir　William　Budge；　the　sugar　king；　has　the　biggest　estate。　
He　bought　out　poor　Stanham；　who　went　bankrupt。”　

“Which　Stanham　would　that　be？　Verney　or　Alfred？”　

“Alfred…　。　I　don’t　hunt　myself。　You’re　a　great　huntsman；　
aren’t　you？　You　have　a　great　reputation　as　a　horseman；　
anyhow；”　he　added；　desiring　to　help　Rodney　in　his　
effort　to　recover　his　placency。　

“Oh；　I　love　riding；”　Rodney　replied。　“Could　I　get　a　horse　
down　here？　Stupid　of　me！　I　forgot　to　bring　any　clothes。　I　can’t　
imagine；　though；　who　told　you　I　was　anything　of　a　rider？”　

To　tell　the　truth；　Henry　labored　under　the　same　difficulty；　
he　did　not　wish　to　introduce　Katharine’s　name；　and；　

therefore；　he　replied　vaguely　that　he　had　always　heard　
that　Rodney　was　a　great　rider。　In　truth；　he　had　heard　
very　little　about　him；　one　way　or　another；　accepting　him　
as　a　figure　often　to　be　found　in　the　background　at　his　
aunt’s　house；　and　inevitably；　though　inexplicably；　engaged　
to　his　cousin。　

“I　don’t　care　much　for　shooting；”　Rodney　continued；　
“but　one　has　to　do　it；　unless　one　wants　to　be　altogether　
out　of　things。　I　dare　say　there’s　some　very　pretty　country　
round　here。　I　stayed　once　at　Bolham　Hall。　Young　
Cranthorpe　was　up　with　you；　wasn’t　he？　He　married　old　
Lord　Bolham’s　daughter。　Very　nice　people—in　their　way。”　

“I　don’t　mix　in　that　society；”　Henry　remarked；　rather　
shortly。　But　Rodney；　now　started　on　an　agreeable　current　
of　reflection；　could　not　resist　the　temptation　of　pursuing　
it　a