[夜与日].(night.and.day).(英)弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙.文字版-第52章
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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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Night and Day
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 her children felt it necessary to
play theirs。
The carriage bowled along smoothly over the gently
curving road。 Mrs。 Hilbery dropped into a pleasant; inattentive
state of mind; in which she was conscious of the
running green lines of the hedges; of the swelling
ploughland; and of the mild blue sky; which served her;
after the first five minutes; for a pastoral background to
the drama of human life; and then she thought of a cottage
garden; with the flash of yellow daffodils against
blue water; and what with the arrangement of these different
prospects; and the shaping of two or three lovely
phrases; she did not notice that the young people in the
carriage were almost silent。 Henry; indeed; had been included
against his wish; and revenged himself by observ
ing Katharine and Rodney with disillusioned eyes; while
Katharine was in a state of gloomy selfsuppression which
resulted in plete apathy。 When Rodney spoke to her
she either said “Hum!” or assented so listlessly that he
addressed his next remark to her mother。 His deference
was agreeable to her; his manners were exemplary; and
when the church towers and factory chimneys of the town
came into sight; she roused herself; and recalled memories
of the fair summer of 1853; which fitted in harmoniously
with what she was dreaming of the future。
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CHAPTER XVIII
But other passengers were approaching Lincoln meanwhile
by other roads on foot。 A county town draws the
inhabitants of all vicarages; farms; country houses; and
wayside cottages; within a radius of ten miles at least;
once or twice a week to its streets; and among them; on
this occasion; were Ralph Denham and Mary Datchet。 They
despised the roads; and took their way across the fields;
and yet; from their appearance; it did not seem as if they
cared much where they walked so long as the way did not
actually trip them up。 When they left the Vicarage; they
had begun an argument which swung their feet along so
rhythmically in time with it that they covered the ground
at over four miles an hour; and saw nothing of the
hedgerows; the swelling plowland; or the mild blue sky。
What they saw were the Houses of Parliament and the
Government Offices in Whitehall。 They both belonged to
the class which is conscious of having lost its birthright
in these great structures and is seeking to build another
kind of lodging for its own notion of law and govern
ment。 Purposely; perhaps; Mary did not agree with Ralph;
she loved to feel her mind in conflict with his; and to be
certain that he spared her female judgment no ounce of
his male muscularity。 He seemed to argue as fiercely with
her as if she were his brother。 They were alike; however;
in believing that it behooved them to take in hand the
repair and reconstruction of the fabric of England。 They
agreed in thinking that nature has not been generous in
the endowment of our councilors。 They agreed; unconsciously;
in a mute love for the muddy field through which
they tramped; with eyes narrowed close by the concentration
of their minds。 At length they drew breath; let
the argument fly away into the limbo of other good arguments;
and; leaning over a gate; opened their eyes for
the first time and looked about them。 Their feet tingled
with warm blood and their breath rose in steam around
them。 The bodily exercise made them both feel more direct
and less selfconscious than usual; and Mary; indeed;
was overe by a sort of lightheadedness which made
it seem to her that it mattered very little what happened
next。 It mattered so little; indeed; that she felt herself
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Night and Day
on the point of saying to Ralph:
“I love you; I shall never love anybody else。 Marry me
or leave me; think what you like of me—I don’t care a
straw。” At the moment; however; speech or silence seemed
immaterial; and she merely clapped her hands together;
and looked at the distant woods with the rustlike bloom
on their brown; and the green and blue landscape through
the steam of her own breath。 It seemed a mere tossup
whether she said; “I love you;” or whether she said; “I
love the beechtrees;” or only “I love—I love。”
“Do you know; Mary;” Ralph suddenly interrupted her;
“I’ve made up my mind。”
Her indifference must have been superficial; for it disappeared
at once。 Indeed; she lost sight of the trees; and
saw her own hand upon the topmost bar of the gate with
extreme distinctness; while he went on:
“I’ve made up my mind to chuck my work and live down
here。 I want you to tell me about that cottage you spoke
of。 However; I suppose there’ll be no difficulty about getting
a cottage; will there?” He spoke with an assumption
of carelessness as if expecting her to dissuade him。
She still waited; as if for him to continue; she was
convinced that in some roundabout way he approached
the subject of their marriage。
“I can’t stand the office any longer;” he proceeded。 “I
don’t know what my family will say; but I’m sure I’m right。
Don’t you think so?”
“Live down here by yourself?” she asked。
“Some old woman would do for me; I suppose;” he replied。
“I’m sick of the whole thing;” he went on; and
opened the gate with a jerk。 They began to cross the
next field walking side by side。
“I tell you; Mary; it’s utter destruction; working away;
day after day; at stuff that doesn’t matter a damn to any
one。 I’ve stood eight years of it; and I’m not going to
stand it any longer。 I suppose this all seems to you mad;
though?”
By this time Mary had recovered her selfcontrol。
“No。 I thought you weren’t happy;” she said。
“Why did you think that?” he asked; with some surprise。
“Don’t you remember that morning in Lincoln’s Inn
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Fields?” she asked。
“Yes;” said Ralph; slackening his pace and remembering
Katharine and her engagement; the purple leaves
stamped into the path; the white