[夜与日].(night.and.day).(英)弗吉尼亚·伍尔芙.文字版-第25部分

快捷操作: 按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页 按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页 按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部! 如果本书没有阅读完，想下次继续接着阅读，可使用上方 "收藏到我的浏览器" 功能 和 "加入书签" 功能！



resembled　Elizabeth’s。　She　made　her　knees　a　fortable　
rest　for　his　head；　and　ran　her　fingers　through　his　hair。　

“I　should　like　Mary　to　stroke　my　head　like　that；”　Ralph　
thought　to　himself　suddenly；　and　he　looked　at　Christopher；　
almost　affectionately；　for　calling　forth　his　sister’s　
caresses。　Instantly　he　thought　of　Katharine；　the　thought　
of　her　being　surrounded　by　the　spaces　of　night　and　the　
open　air；　and　Mary；　watching　him；　saw　the　lines　upon　his　
forehead　suddenly　deepen。　He　stretched　out　an　arm　and　
placed　a　log　upon　the　fire；　constraining　himself　to　fit　it　
carefully　into　the　frail　red　scaffolding；　and　also　to　limit　
his　thoughts　to　this　one　room。　

Mary　had　ceased　to　stroke　her　brother’s　head；　he　moved　
it　impatiently　between　her　knees；　and；　much　as　though　
he　were　a　child；　she　began　once　more　to　part　the　thick；　
reddishcolored　locks　this　way　and　that。　But　a　far　stronger　
passion　had　taken　possession　of　her　soul　than　any　
her　brother　could　inspire　in　her；　and；　seeing　Ralph’s　change　
of　expression；　her　hand　almost　automatically　continued　
its　movements；　while　her　mind　plunged　desperately　for　
some　hold　upon　slippery　banks。　

CHAPTER　XVI　


Into　that　same　black　night；　almost；　indeed；　into　the　very　
same　layer　of　starlit　air；　Katharine　Hilbery　was　now　gazing；　
although　not　with　a　view　to　the　prospects　of　a　fine　
day　for　duck　shooting　on　the　morrow。　She　was　walking　up　
and　down　a　gravel　path　in　the　garden　of　Stogdon　House；　
her　sight　of　the　heavens　being　partially　intercepted　by　
the　light　leafless　hoops　of　a　pergola。　Thus　a　spray　of　
clematis　would　pletely　obscure　Cassiopeia；　or　blot　
out　with　its　black　pattern　myriads　of　miles　of　the　Milky　
Way。　At　the　end　of　the　pergola；　however；　there　was　a　
stone　seat；　from　which　the　sky　could　be　seen　pletely　
swept　clear　of　any　earthly　interruption；　save　to　the　right；　
indeed；　where　a　line　of　elmtrees　was　beautifully　sprinkled　
with　stars；　and　a　low　stable　building　had　a　full　drop　of　
quivering　silver　just　issuing　from　the　mouth　of　the　chimney。　
It　was　a　moonless　night；　but　the　light　of　the　stars　
was　sufficient　to　show　the　outline　of　the　young　woman’s　
form；　and　the　shape　of　her　face　gazing　gravely；　indeed　
almost　sternly；　into　the　sky。　She　had　e　out　into　the　

164　



Virginia　Woolf　

winter’s　night；　which　was　mild　enough；　not　so　much　to　
look　with　scientific　eyes　upon　the　stars；　as　to　shake　herself　
free　from　certain　purely　terrestrial　discontents。　Much　
as　a　literary　person　in　like　circumstances　would　begin；　
absentmindedly；　pulling　out　volume　after　volume；　so　she　
stepped　into　the　garden　in　order　to　have　the　stars　at　
hand；　even　though　she　did　not　look　at　them。　Not　to　be　
happy；　when　she　was　supposed　to　be　happier　than　she　
would　ever　be　again—that；　as　far　as　she　could　see；　was　
the　origin　of　a　discontent　which　had　begun　almost　as　
soon　as　she　arrived；　two　days　before；　and　seemed　now　so　
intolerable　that　she　had　left　the　family　party；　and　e　
out　here　to　consider　it　by　herself。　It　was　not　she　who　
thought　herself　unhappy；　but　her　cousins；　who　thought　it　
for　her。　The　house　was　full　of　cousins；　much　of　her　age；　or　
even　younger；　and　among　them　they　had　some　terribly　
bright　eyes。　They　seemed　always　on　the　search　for　something　
between　her　and　Rodney；　which　they　expected　to　
find；　and　yet　did　not　find；　and　when　they　searched；　
Katharine　became　aware　of　wanting　what　she　had　not　
been　conscious　of　wanting　in　London；　alone　with　William　

and　her　parents。　Or；　if　she　did　not　want　it；　she　missed　it。　
And　this　state　of　mind　depressed　her；　because　she　had　
been　accustomed　always　to　give　plete　satisfaction；　
and　her　selflove　was　now　a　little　ruffled。　She　would　have　
liked　to　break　through　the　reserve　habitual　to　her　in　order　
to　justify　her　engagement　to　some　one　whose　opinion　
she　valued。　No　one　had　spoken　a　word　of　criticism；　
but　they　left　her　alone　with　William；　not　that　that　would　
have　mattered；　if　they　had　not　left　her　alone　so　politely；　
and；　perhaps；　that　would　not　have　mattered　if　they　had　
not　seemed　so　queerly　silent；　almost　respectful；　in　her　
presence；　which　gave　way　to　criticism；　she　felt；　out　of　it。　

Looking　now　and　then　at　the　sky；　she　went　through　the　
list　of　her　cousins’　names：　Eleanor；　Humphrey；　Marmaduke；　
Silvia；　Henry；　Cassandra；　Gilbert；　and　Mostyn—Henry；　the　
cousin　who　taught　the　young　ladies　of　Bungay　to　play　
upon　the　violin；　was　the　only　one　in　whom　she　could　
confide；　and　as　she　walked　up　and　down　beneath　the　
hoops　of　the　pergola；　she　did　begin　a　little　speech　to　
him；　which　ran　something　like　this：　

“To　begin　with；　I’m　very　fond　of　William。　You　can’t　deny　

165　



Night　and　Day　

that。　I　know　him　better　than　any　one；　almost。　But　why　
I’m　marrying　him　is；　partly；　I　admit—I’m　being　quite　
honest　with　you；　and　you　mustn’t　tell　any　one—partly　
because　I　want　to　get　married。　I　want　to　have　a　house　of　
my　own。　It　isn’t　possible　at　home。　It’s　all　very　well　for　
you；　Henry；　you　can　go　your　own　way。　I　have　to　be　there　
always。　Besides；　you　know　what　our　house　is。　You　wouldn’t　
be　happy　either；　if　you　didn’t　do　something。　It　isn’t　that　
I　haven’t　the　time　at　home—it’s　the　atmosphere。”　Here；　
presumably；　she　imagined　that　her　cousin；　who　had　listened　
with　his　usual　intelligent　sympathy；　raised　his　eyebrows　
a　little；　and　interposed：　

“Well；　but　what　do　you　want　to　do？”　

Even　in　this　purely　imaginary　dialogue；　Katharine　found　
it　difficult　to　confide　her　ambition　to　an　imaginary　panion。　


“I　should　like；”　she　began；　and　hesitated　quite　a　long　
time　before　she　forced　herself　to　add；　with　a　change　of　
voice；　“to　study　mathematics—to　know　about　the　stars。”　

Henry　was　clearly　amazed；　but　too　kind　to　express　all　
his　doubts；　he　only　said　something　about　the　difficulties　

of　mathematics；　and　remarked　that　very　little　was　known　
about　the　stars。　

Katharine　thereupon　went　on　with　the　statement　of　her　
case。　

“I　don’t　care　much　whether　I　ever　get　to　know　anything—
but　I　want　to　work　out　something　in　figures—　
something　that　hasn’t　got　to　do　with　human　beings。　I　
don’t　want　people　particularly。　In　some　ways；　Henry；　I’m　
a　humbug—I　mean；　I’m　not　what　you　all　take　me　for。　I’m　
not　domestic；　or　very　practical　or　sensible；　really。　And　if　I　
could　calculate　things；　and　use　a　telescope；　and　have　to　
work　out　figures；　and　know　to　a　fraction　where　I　was　
wrong；　I　should　be　perfectly　happy；　and　I　believe　I　should　
give　William　all　he　wants。”　

Having　reached　this　point；　instinct　told　her　that　she　
had　passed　beyond　the　region　in　which　Henry’s　advice　
could　be　of　any　good；　and；　having　rid　her　mind　of　its　
superficial　annoyance；　she　sat　herself　upon　the　stone　seat；　
raised　her　eyes　unconsciously　and　thought　about　the　
deeper　questions　which　she　had　to　decide；　she　knew；　for　
herself。　Would　she；　indeed；　give　William　all　he　wanted？　

166　



Virginia　Woolf　

In　order　to　decide　the　question；　she　ran　her　mind　rapidly　
over　her　little　collection　of　significant　sayings；　looks；　
pliments；　gestures；　which　had　marked　their　intercourse　
during　the　last　day　or　two。　He　had　been　annoyed　because　
a　box；　containing　some　clothes　specially　chosen　by　him　
for　her　to　wear；　had　been　taken　to　the　wrong　station；　
owing　to　her　neglect　in　the　matter　of　labels。　The　box　had　
arrived　in　the　nick　of　time；　and　he　had　remarked；　as　she　
came　downstairs　on　the　first　night；　that　he　had　never　
seen　her　look　more　beautiful。　She　outshone　all　her　cousins。　
He　had　discovered　that　she　never　made　an　ugly　movement；　
he　also　said　that　the　shape　of　her　head　made　it　
possible　for　her；　unlike　most　women；　to　wear　her　hair　
low。　He　had　twice　reproved　her　for　being　silent　at　dinner；　
and　once　for　never　attending　to　what　he　said。　He　had　
been　surprised　at　the　excellence　of　her　French　accent；　
but　he　thought　it　was　selfish　of　her　not　to　go　with　her　
mother　to　call　upon　the　Middletons；　because　they　were　
old　family　friends　and　very　nice　people。　On　the　whole；　
the　balance　was　nearly　even；　and；　writing　down　a　kind　of　
conclusion　in　her　mind　which　finished　the　sum　for　the　

present；　at　least；　she　changed　the　focus　of　her　eyes；　and　
saw　nothing　but　the　stars。　

Tonight　they　seemed　fixed　with　unusual　firmness　in　
the　blue；　and　flashed　back　such　a　ripple　of　light　into　her　
eyes　that　she　found　herself　thinking　that　tonight　the　
stars　were　happy。　Without　knowing　or　caring　more　for　
Church　practices　than　most　people　of　her　age；　Katharine　
could　not　look　into　the　sky　at　Christmas　time　without　
feeling　that；　at　this　one　season；　the　Heavens　bend　over　
the　earth　with　sympathy；　and　signal　with　immortal　radiance　
that　they；　too；　take　part　in　her　festival。　Somehow；　it　
seemed　to　her　that　they　were　even　now　beholding　the　
procession　of　kings　and　wise　men　upon　some　road　on　a　
distant　part　of　the　earth。　And　yet；　after　gazing　for　another　
second；　the　stars　did　their　usual　work　upon　the　
mind；　froze　to　cinders　the　whole　of　our　short　human　history；　
and　reduced　the　human　body　to　an　apelike；　furry　
form；　crouching　amid　the　brushwood　of　a　barbarous　clod　
of　mud。　This　stage　was　soon　succeeded　by　another；　in　
which　there　was　nothing　in　the　universe　save　stars　and　
the　light　of　stars；　as　she　looked　up　the　pupils　of　her　eyes　

167　



Night　and　Day　

so　dilated　with　starlight　that　the　whole　of　her　seemed　
dissolved　in　silver　and　spilt　over　the　ledges　of　the　stars　
for　ever　and　ever　indefinitely　through　space。　Somehow　
simultaneously；　though　incongruously；　she　was　riding　with　
the　magnanimous　hero　upon　the　shore　or　under　forest　
trees；　and　so　might　have　continued　were　it　not　for　the　
rebuke　forcibly　administered　by　the　body；　which；　content　
with　the　normal　conditions　of　life；　in　no　way　furthers　any　
attempt　on　the　part　of　the　mind　to　alter　them。　She　grew　
cold；　shook　herself；　rose；　and　walked　towards　the　house。　

By　the　light　of　the　stars；　Stogdon　House　looked　pale　
and　romantic；　and　about　twice　its　natural　size。　Built　by　a　
retired　admiral　in　the　early　years　of　the　nieenth　century；　
the　curving　bow　windows　of　the　front；　now　filled　
with　reddishyellow　light；　suggested　a　portly　threedecker；　
sailing　seas　where　those　dolphins　and　narwhals　who　disport　
themselves　upon　the　edges　of　old　maps　were　scattered　
with　an　impartial　hand。　A　semicircular　flight　of　shallow　
steps　led　to　a　very　large　door；　which　Katharine　had　
left　ajar。　She　hesitated；　cast　her　eyes　over　the　front　of　
the　house；　marked　that　a　light　burnt　in　one　small　window　

upon　an　upper　floor；　and　pushed　the　door　open。　For　a　
moment　she　stood　in　the　square　hall；　among　many　horned　
skulls；　sallow　globes；　cracked　oilpaintings；　and　stuffed　
owls；　hesitating；　it　seemed；　whether　she　should　open　the　
door　on　her　right；　through　which　the　stir　of　life　reached　
her　ears。　Listening　for　a　moment；　she　heard　a　sound　which　
decided　her；　apparently；　not　to　enter；　her　uncle；　Sir　Francis；　
was　playing　his　nightly　game　of　whist；　it　appeared　probable　
that　he　was　losing。　

She　went　up　the　curving　stairway；　which　represented　
the　one　attempt　at　ceremony　in　the　otherwise　rather　dilapidated　
mansion；　and　down　a　narrow　passage　until　she　
came　to　the　room　whose　light　she　had　seen　from　the　
garden。　Knocking；　she　was　told　to　e　in。　A　young　man；　
Henry　Otway；　was　reading；　with　his　feet　on　the　fender。　
He　had　a　fine　head；　the　brow　arched　in　the　Elizabethan　
manner；　but　the　gentle；　honest　eyes　were　rather　skeptical　
than　glowing　with　the　Elizabethan　vigor。　He　gave　the　
impression　that　he　had　not　yet　found　the　cause　which　
suited　his　temperament。　

He　turned；　put　down　his　book；　and　looked　at　her。　He　

168　



Virginia　Woolf　

noticed　her　rather　pale；　dewdrenched　look；　as　of　one　
whose　mind　is　not　altogether　settled　in　the　body。　He　had　
often　laid　his　difficulties　before　her；　and　guessed；　in　some　
ways　hoped；　that　perhaps　she　now　had　need　of　him。　At　
the　same　time；　she　carried　on　her　life　with　such　independence　
that　he　scarcely　expected　any　confidence　to　be　
expressed　in　words。　

“You　have　fled；　too；　then？”　he　said；　looking　at　her　cloak。　
Katharine　had　forgotten　to　remove　this　token　of　her　stargazing。　


“Fled？”　she　asked。　“From　whom　d’you　mean？　Oh；　the　
family　party。　Yes；　it　was　hot　down　there；　so　I　went　into　
the　garden。”　

“And　aren’t　you　very　cold？”　Henry　inquired；　placing　coal　
on　the　fire；　drawing　a　chair　up　to　the　grate；　and　laying　
aside　her　cloak。　Her　indifference　to　such　details　often　
forced　Henry　to　act　the　part　generally　taken　by　women　in　
such　dealings。　It　was　one　of　the　ties　between　them。　

“Thank　you；　Henry；”　she　said。　“I’m　not　disturbing　you？”　

“I’m　not　here。　I’m　at　Bungay；”　he　replied。　“I’m　giving　a　
music　lesson　to　Harold　and　Julia。　That　was　why　I　had　to　

leave　the　table　with　the　ladies—I’m　spending　the　night　
there；　and　I　shan’t　be　back　till　late　on　Christmas　Eve。”　

“How　I　wish—”　Katharine　began；　and　stopped　short。　“I　
think　these　parties　are　a　great　mistake；”　she　added　briefly；　
and　sighed。　

“Oh；　horrible！”　he　agreed；　and　they　both　fell　silent。　

Her　sigh　made　him　look　at　her。　Should　he　venture　to　
ask　her　why　she　sighed？　Was　her　reticence　about　her　own　
affairs　as　inviolable　as　it　had　often　been　convenient　for　
rather　an　egoistical　young　man　to　think　it？　But　since　her　
engagement　to　Rodney；　Henry’s　feeling　towards　her　had　
bee　rather　plex；　equally　divided　between　an　impulse　
to　hurt　her　and　an　impulse　to　be　tender　to　her；　and　
all　the　time　he　suffered　a　curious　irritation　from　the　sense　
that　she　was　drifting　away　from　him　for　ever　upon　unknown　
seas。　On　her　side；　directly　Katharine　got　into　his　
presence；　and　the　sense　of　the　stars　dropped　from　her；　
she　knew　that　any　intercourse　between　people　is　extremely　
partial；　from　the　whole　mass　of　her　feelings；　only　one　or　
two　could　be　selected　for　Henry’s　inspection；　and　therefore　
she　sighed。　Then　she　looked　at　him；　and　their　eyes　

169　



Night　and　Day　

meeting；　much　more　seemed　to　be　in　mon　between　them　
than　had　appeared　possible。　At　any　rate　they　had　a　grandfather　
in　mon；　at　any　rate　there　was　a　kind　of　loyalty　
between　them　sometimes　found　between　relations　who　have　
no　other　cause　to　like　each　other；　as　these　two　had。　

“Well；　what’s　the　date　of　the　wedding？”　said　Henry；　the　
malicious　mood　now　predominating。　

“I　think　some　time　in　March；”　she　replied。　

“And　afterwards？”　he　asked。　

“We　take　a　house；　I　suppose；　somewhere　in　Chelsea。”　

“It’s　very　interesting；”　he　observed；　stealing　another　
look　at　her。　

She　lay　back　in　her　armchair；　her　feet　high　upon　the　
side　of　the　grate；　and　in　front　of　her；　presumably　to　screen　
her　eyes；　she　held　a　newspaper　from　which　she　picked　up　
a　sentence　or　two　now　and　again。　Observing　this；　Henry　
remarked：　

“Perhaps　marriage　will　make　you　more　human。”　

At　this　she　lowered　the　newspaper　an　inch　or　two；　but　
said　nothing。　Indeed；　she　sat　quite　silent　for　over　a　
minute。　

“When　you　consider　things　like　the　stars；　our　affairs　
don’t　seem　to　matter　very　much；　do　they？”　she　said　suddenly。　


“I　don’t　think　I　ever　do　consider　things　like　the　stars；”　
Henry　replied。　“I’m　not　sure　that　that’s　not　t