peoplealways
coming
about
you
to
interrupt
.
”
“
How
far
can
one
live
alone
?
”
he
asked
.
“
Have
you
tried
ever
?
”
“
Once
for
three
weeks
,
”
she
replied
.
“
My
father
and
mother
were
in
Italy
,
and
something
happened
so
that
I
couldn’t
join
them
.
For
three
weeks
I
lived
entirely
by
myself
,
and
the
only
person
I
spoke
to
was
a
stranger
in
a
shop
where
I
lunched
—
a
man
with
a
beard
.
Then
I
went
back
to
my
room
by
myself
and
—
well
,
I
did
what
I
liked
.
It
doesn’t
make
me
out
an
amiable
character
,
I’m
afraid
,
”
she
added
,
“
but
I
can’t
endure
living
with
other
people
.
An
occasional
man
with
a
beard
is
interesting
;
he’s
detached
;
he
lets
me
go
my
way
,
and
we
know
we
shall
never
meet
again
.
Therefore
,
we
are
perfectly
sincere
—
a
thing
not
possible
with
one’s
friends
.
”
“
Nonsense
,
”
Denham
replied
abruptly
.
“
Why
‘nonsense’
?
”
she
inquired
.
“
Because
you
don’t
mean
what
you
say
,
”
he
expostulated
.
“
You’re
very
positive
,
”
she
said
,
laughing
and
looking
at
him
.
How
arbitrary
,
hot-tempered
,
and
imperious
he
was
!
He
had
asked
her
to
come
to
Kew
to
advise
him
;
he
then
told
her
that
he
had
settled
the
question
already
;
he
then
proceeded
to
find
fault
with
her
.
He
was
the
very
opposite
of
William
Rodney
,
she
thought
;
he
was
shabby
,
his
clothes
were
badly
made
,
he
was
ill
versed
in
the
amenities
of
life
;
he
was
tongue-tied
and
awkward
to
the
verge
of
obliterating
his
real
character
.
He
was
awkwardly
silent
;
he
was
awkwardly
emphatic
.
And
yet
she
liked
him
.
“
I
don’t
mean
what
I
say
,
”
she
repeated
good-humoredly
.
“
Well
—
?
”
“
I
doubt
whether
you
make
absolute
sincerity
your
standard
in
life
,
”
he
answered
significantly
.
She
flushed
.
He
had
penetrated
at
once
to
the
weak
spot
—
her
engagement
,
and
had
reason
for
what
he
said
.
He
was
not
altogether
justified
now
,
at
any
rate
,
she
was
glad
to
remember
;
but
she
could
not
enlighten
him
and
must
bear
his
insinuations
,
though
from
the
lips
of
a
man
who
had
behaved
as
he
had
behaved
their
force
should
not
have
been
sharp
.
Nevertheless
,
what
he
said
had
its
force
,
she
mused
;
partly
because
he
seemed
unconscious
of
his
own
lapse
in
the
case
of
Mary
Datchet
,
and
thus
baffled
her
insight
;
partly
because
he
always
spoke
with
force
,
for
what
reason
she
did
not
yet
feel
certain
.
“
Absolute
sincerity
is
rather
difficult
,
don’t
you
think
?
”
she
inquired
,
with
a
touch
of
irony
.
“
There
are
people
one
credits
even
with
that
,
”
he
replied
a
little
vaguely
.
He
was
ashamed
of
his
savage
wish
to
hurt
her
,
and
yet
it
was
not
for
the
sake
of
hurting
her
,
who
was
beyond
his
shafts
,
but
in
order
to
mortify
his
own
incredibly
reckless
impulse
of
abandonment
to
the
spirit
which
seemed
,
at
moments
,
about
to
rush
him
to
the
uttermost
ends
of
the
earth
.
She
affected
him
beyond
the
scope
of
his
wildest
dreams
.
He
seemed
to
see
that
beneath
the
quiet
surface
of
her
manner
,
which
was
almost
pathetically
at
hand
and
within
reach
for
all
the
trivial
demands
of
daily
life
,
there
was
a
spirit
which
she
reserved
or
repressed
for
some
reason
either
of
loneliness
or
—
could
it
be
possible
—
of
love
.
Was
it
given
to
Rodney
to
see
her
unmasked
,
unrestrained
,
unconscious
of
her
duties
?
a
creature
of
uncalculating
passion
and
instinctive
freedom
?
No
;
he
refused
to
believe
it
.
It
was
in
her
loneliness
that
Katharine
was
unreserved
.
“
I
went
back
to
my
room
by
myself
and
I
did
—
what
I
liked
.
”
She
had
said
that
to
him
,
and
in
saying
it
had
given
him
a
glimpse
of
possibilities
,
even
of
confidences
,
as
if
he
might
be
the
one
to
share
her
loneliness
,
the
mere
hint
of
which
made
his
heart
beat
faster
and
his
brain
spin
.
He
checked
himself
as
brutally
as
he
could
.
He
saw
her
redden
,
and
in
the
irony
of
her
reply
he
heard
her
resentment
.
He
began
slipping
his
smooth
,
silver
watch
in
his
pocket
,
in
the
hope
that
somehow
he
might
help
himself
back
to
that
calm
and
fatalistic
mood
which
had
been
his
when
he
looked
at
its
face
upon
the
bank
of
the
lake
,
for
that
mood
must
,
at
whatever
cost
,
be
the
mood
of
his
intercourse
with
Katharine
.
He
had
spoken
of
gratitude
and
acquiescence
in
the
letter
which
he
had
never
sent
,
and
now
all
the
force
of
his
character
must
make
good
those
vows
in
her
presence
.
She
,
thus
challenged
,
tried
meanwhile
to
define
her
points
.
She
wished
to
make
Denham
understand
.
“
Don’t
you
see
that
if
you
have
no
relations
with
people
it’s
easier
to
be
honest
with
them
?
”
she
inquired
.
“
That
is
what
I
meant
.
One
needn’t
cajole
them
;
one’s
under
no
obligation
to
them
.
Surely
you
must
have
found
with
your
own
family
that
it’s
impossible
to
discuss
what
matters
to
you
most
because
you’re
all
herded
together
,
because
you’re
in
a
conspiracy
,
because
the
position
is
false
—
”
Her
reasoning
suspended
itself
a
little
inconclusively
,
for
the
subject
was
complex
,
and
she
found
herself
in
ignorance
whether
Denham
had
a
family
or
not
.
Denham
was
agreed
with
her
as
to
the
destructiveness
of
the
family
system
,
but
he
did
not
wish
to
discuss
the
problem
at
that
moment
.
He
turned
to
a
problem
which
was
of
greater
interest
to
him
.
“
I’m
convinced
,
”
he
said
,
“
that
there
are
cases
in
which
perfect
sincerity
is
possible
—
cases
where
there’s
no
relationship
,
though
the
people
live
together
,
if
you
like
,
where
each
is
free
,
where
there’s
no
obligation
upon
either
side
.
”
“
For
a
time
perhaps
,
”
she
agreed
,
a
little
despondently
.
“
But
obligations
always
grow
up
.
There
are
feelings
to
be
considered
.
People
aren’t
simple
,
and
though
they
may
mean
to
be
reasonable
,
they
end
”
—
in
the
condition
in
which
she
found
herself
,
she
meant
,
but
added
lamely
—
“
in
a
muddle
.
”
“
Because
,
”
Denham
instantly
intervened
,
“
they
don’t
make
themselves
understood
at
the
beginning
.
I
could
undertake
,
at
this
instant
,
”
he
continued
,
with
a
reasonable
intonation
which
did
much
credit
to
his
self-control
,
“
to
lay
down
terms
for
a
friendship
which
should
be
perfectly
sincere
and
perfectly
straightforward
.
”
She
was
curious
to
hear
them
,
but
,
besides
feeling
that
the
topic
concealed
dangers
better
known
to
her
than
to
him
,
she
was
reminded
by
his
tone
of
his
curious
abstract
declaration
upon
the
Embankment
.
Anything
that
hinted
at
love
for
the
moment
alarmed
her
;
it
was
as
much
an
infliction
to
her
as
the
rubbing
of
a
skinless
wound
.
But
he
went
on
,
without
waiting
for
her
invitation
.
“
In
the
first
place
,
such
a
friendship
must
be
unemotional
,
”
he
laid
it
down
emphatically
.
“
At
least
,
on
both
sides
it
must
be
understood
that
if
either
chooses
to
fall
in
love
,
he
or
she
does
so
entirely
at
his
own
risk
.
Neither
is
under
any
obligation
to
the
other
.
They
must
be
at
liberty
to
break
or
to
alter
at
any
moment
.
They
must
be
able
to
say
whatever
they
wish
to
say
.
All
this
must
be
understood
.
”
“
And
they
gain
something
worth
having
?
”
she
asked
.
“
It’s
a
risk
—
of
course
it’s
a
risk
,
”
he
replied
.
The
word
was
one
that
she
had
been
using
frequently
in
her
arguments
with
herself
of
late
.
“
But
it’s
the
only
way
—
if
you
think
friendship
worth
having
,
”
he
concluded
.
“
Perhaps
under
those
conditions
it
might
be
,
”
she
said
reflectively
.
“
Well
,
”
he
said
,
“
those
are
the
terms
of
the
friendship
I
wish
to
offer
you
.
”
She
had
known
that
this
was
coming
,
but
,
none
the
less
,
felt
a
little
shock
,
half
of
pleasure
,
half
of
reluctance
,
when
she
heard
the
formal
statement
.
“
I
should
like
it
,
”
she
began
,
“
but
—
”
“
Would
Rodney
mind
?
”
“
Oh
no
,
”
she
replied
quickly
.
“
No
,
no
,
it
isn’t
that
,
”
she
went
on
,
and
again
came
to
an
end
.
She
had
been
touched
by
the
unreserved
and
yet
ceremonious
way
in
which
he
had
made
what
he
called
his
offer
of
terms
,
but
if
he
was
generous
it
was
the
more
necessary
for
her
to
be
cautious
.
They
would
find
themselves
in
difficulties
,
she
speculated
;
but
,
at
this
point
,
which
was
not
very
far
,
after
all
,
upon
the
road
of
caution
,
her
foresight
deserted
her
.
She
sought
for
some
definite
catastrophe
into
which
they
must
inevitably
plunge
.
But
she
could
think
of
none
.
It
seemed
to
her
that
these
catastrophes
were
fictitious
;
life
went
on
and
on
—
life
was
different
altogether
from
what
people
said
.
And
not
only
was
she
at
an
end
of
her
stock
of
caution
,
but
it
seemed
suddenly
altogether
superfluous
.
Surely
if
any
one
could
take
care
of
himself
,
Ralph
Denham
could
;
he
had
told
her
that
he
did
not
love
her
.
And
,
further
,
she
meditated
,
walking
on
beneath
the
beech-trees
and
swinging
her
umbrella
,
as
in
her
thought
she
was
accustomed
to
complete
freedom
,
why
should
she
perpetually
apply
so
different
a
standard
to
her
behavior
in
practice
?
Why
,
she
reflected
,
should
there
be
this
perpetual
disparity
between
the
thought
and
the
action
,
between
the
life
of
solitude
and
the
life
of
society
,
this
astonishing
precipice
on
one
side
of
which
the
soul
was
active
and
in
broad
daylight
,
on
the
other
side
of
which
it
was
contemplative
and
dark
as
night
?
Was
it
not
possible
to
step
from
one
to
the
other
,
erect
,
and
without
essential
change
?
Was
this
not
the
chance
he
offered
her
—
the
rare
and
wonderful
chance
of
friendship
?
At
any
rate
,
she
told
Denham
,
with
a
sigh
in
which
he
heard
both
impatience
and
relief
,
that
she
agreed
;
she
thought
him
right
;
she
would
accept
his
terms
of
friendship
.
“
Now
,
”
she
said
,
“
let’s
go
and
have
tea
.
”
In
fact
,
these
principles
having
been
laid
down
,
a
great
lightness
of
spirit
showed
itself
in
both
of
them
.
They
were
both
convinced
that
something
of
profound
importance
had
been
settled
,
and
could
now
give
their
attention
to
their
tea
and
the
Gardens
.
They
wandered
in
and
out
of
glass-houses
,
saw
lilies
swimming
in
tanks
,
breathed
in
the
scent
of
thousands
of
carnations
,
and
compared
their
respective
tastes
in
the
matter
of
trees
and
lakes
.
While
talking
exclusively
of
what
they
saw
,
so
that
any
one
might
have
overheard
them
,
they
felt
that
the
compact
between
them
was
made
firmer
and
deeper
by
the
number
of
people
who
passed
them
and
suspected
nothing
of
the
kind
.
The
question
of
Ralph’s
cottage
and
future
was
not
mentioned
again
.
CHAPTER
XXVI
Although
the
old
coaches
,
with
their
gay
panels
and
the
guard’s
horn
,
and
the
humors
of
the
box
and
the
vicissitudes
of
the
road
,
have
long
moldered
into
dust
so
far
as
they
were
matter
,
and
are
preserved
in
the
printed
pages
of
our
novelists
so
far
as
they
partook
of
the
spirit
,
a
journey
to
London
by
express
train
can
still
be
a
very
pleasant
and
romantic
adventure
.
Cassandra
Otway
,
at
the
age
of
twenty-two
,
could
imagine
few
things
more
pleasant
.
Satiated
with
months
of
green
fields
as
she
was
,
the
first
row
of
artisans’
villas
on
the
outskirts
of
London
seemed
to
have
something
serious
about
it
,
which
positively
increased
the
importance
of
every
person
in
the
railway
carriage
,
and
even
,
to
her
impressionable
mind
,
quickened
the
speed
of
the
train
and
gave
a
note
of
stern
authority
to
the
shriek
of
the
engine-whistle
.
They
were
bound
for
London
;
they
must
have
precedence
of
all
traffic
not
similarly
destined
.
A
different
demeanor
was
necessary
directly
one
stepped
out
upon
Liverpool
Street
platform
,
and
became
one
of
those
preoccupied
and
hasty
citizens
for
whose
needs
innumerable
taxi-cabs
,
motor-omnibuses
,
and
underground
railways
were
in
waiting
.
She
did
her
best
to
look
dignified
and
preoccupied
too
,
but
as
the
cab
carried
her
away
,
with
a
determination
which
alarmed
her
a
little
,
she
became
more
and
more
forgetful
of
her
station
as
a
citizen
of
London
,
and
turned
her
head
from
one
window
to
another
,
picking
up
eagerly
a
building
on
this
side
or
a
street
scene
on
that
to
feed
her
intense
curiosity
.
And
yet
,
while
the
drive
lasted
no
one
was
real
,
nothing
was
ordinary
;
the
crowds
,
the
Government
buildings
,
the
tide
of
men
and
women
washing
the
base
of
the
great
glass
windows
,
were
all
generalized
,
and
affected
her
as
if
she
saw
them
on
the
stage
.
All
these
feelings
were
sustained
and
partly
inspired
by
the
fact
that
her
journey
took
her
straight
to
the
center
of
her
most
romantic
world
.
A
thousand
times
in
the
midst
of
her
pastoral
landscape
her
thoughts
took
this
precise
road
,
were
admitted
to
the
house
in
Chelsea
,
and
went
directly
upstairs
to
Katharine’s
room
,
where
,
invisible
themselves
,
they
had
the
better
chance
of
feasting
upon
the
privacy
of
the
room’s
adorable
and
mysterious
mistress
.
Cassandra
adored
her
cousin
;
the
adoration
might
have
been
foolish
,
but
was
saved
from
that
excess
and
lent
an
engaging
charm
by
the
volatile
nature
of
Cassandra’s
temperament
.
She
had
adored
a
great
many
things
and
people
in
the
course
of
twenty-two
years
;
she
had
been
alternately
the
pride
and
the
desperation
of
her
teachers
.
She
had
worshipped
architecture
and
music
,
natural
history
and
humanity
,
literature
and
art
,
but
always
at
the
height
of
her
enthusiasm
,
which
was
accompanied
by
a
brilliant
degree
of
accomplishment
,
she
changed
her
mind
and
bought
,
surreptitiously
,
another
grammar
.
The
terrible
results
which
governesses
had
predicted
from
such
mental
dissipation
were
certainly
apparent
now
that
Cassandra
was
twenty-two
,
and
had
never
passed
an
examination
,
and
daily
showed
herself
less
and
less
capable
of
passing
one
.
The
more
serious
prediction
that
she
could
never
possibly
earn
her
living
was
also
verified
.
But
from
all
these
short
strands
of
different
accomplishments
Cassandra
wove
for
herself
an
attitude
,
a
cast
of
mind
,
which
,
if
useless
,
was
found
by
some
people
to
have
the
not
despicable
virtues
of
vivacity
and
freshness
.
Katharine
,
for
example
,
thought
her
a
most
charming
companion
.
The
cousins
seemed
to
assemble
between
them
a
great
range
of
qualities
which
are
never
found
united
in
one
person
and
seldom
in
half
a
dozen
people
.
Where
Katharine
was
simple
,
Cassandra
was
complex
;
where
Katharine
was
solid
and
direct
,
Cassandra
was
vague
and
evasive
.
In
short
,
they
represented
very
well
the
manly
and
the
womanly
sides
of
the
feminine
nature
,
and
,
for
foundation
,
there
was
the
profound
unity
of
common
blood
between
them
.
If
Cassandra
adored
Katharine
she
was
incapable
of
adoring
any
one
without
refreshing
her
spirit
with
frequent
draughts
of
raillery
and
criticism
,
and
Katharine
enjoyed
her
laughter
at
least
as
much
as
her
respect
.
Respect
was
certainly
uppermost
in
Cassandra’s
mind
at
the
present
moment
.
Katharine’s
engagement
had
appealed
to
her
imagination
as
the
first
engagement
in
a
circle
of
contemporaries
is
apt
to
appeal
to
the
imaginations
of
the
others
;
it
was
solemn
,
beautiful
,
and
mysterious
;
it
gave
both
parties
the
important
air
of
those
who
have
been
initiated
into
some
rite
which
is
still
concealed
from
the
rest
of
the
group
.
For
Katharine’s
sake
Cassandra
thought
William
a
most
distinguished
and
interesting
character
,
and
welcomed
first
his
conversation
and
then
his
manuscript
as
the
marks
of
a
friendship
which
it
flattered
and
delighted
her
to
inspire
.
Katharine
was
still
out
when
she
arrived
at
Cheyne
Walk
.
After
greeting
her
uncle
and
aunt
and
receiving
,
as
usual
,
a
present
of
two
sovereigns
for
“
cab
fares
and
dissipation
”
from
Uncle
Trevor
,
whose
favorite
niece
she
was
,
she
changed
her
dress
and
wandered
into
Katharine’s
room
to
await
her
.
What
a
great
looking-glass
Katharine
had
,
she
thought
,
and
how
mature
all
the
arrangements
upon
the
dressing-table
were
compared
to
what
she
was
used
to
at
home
.
Glancing
round
,
she
thought
that
the
bills
stuck
upon
a
skewer
and
stood
for
ornament
upon
the
mantelpiece
were
astonishingly
like
Katharine
,
There
wasn’t
a
photograph
of
William
anywhere
to
be
seen
.
The
room
,
with
its
combination
of
luxury
and
bareness
,
its
silk
dressing-gowns
and
crimson
slippers
,
its
shabby
carpet
and
bare
walls
,
had
a
powerful
air
of
Katharine
herself
;
she
stood
in
the
middle
of
the
room
and
enjoyed
the
sensation
;
and
then
,
with
a
desire
to
finger
what
her
cousin
was
in
the
habit
of
fingering
,
Cassandra
began
to
take
down
the
books
which
stood
in
a
row
upon
the
shelf
above
the
bed
.
In
most
houses
this
shelf
is
the
ledge
upon
which
the
last
relics
of
religious
belief
lodge
themselves
as
if
,
late
at
night
,
in
the
heart
of
privacy
,
people
,
skeptical
by
day
,
find
solace
in
sipping
one
draught
of
the
old
charm
for
such
sorrows
or
perplexities
as
may
steal
from
their
hiding-places
in
the
dark
.
But
there
was
no
hymn-book
here
.
By
their
battered
covers
and
enigmatical
contents
,
Cassandra
judged
them
to
be
old
school-books
belonging
to
Uncle
Trevor
,
and
piously
,
though
eccentrically
,
preserved
by
his
daughter
.
There
was
no
end
,
she
thought
,
to
the
unexpectedness
of
Katharine
.
She
had
once
had
a
passion
for
geometry
herself
,
and
,
curled
upon
Katharine’s
quilt
,
she
became
absorbed
in
trying
to
remember
how
far
she
had
forgotten
what
she
once
knew
.
Katharine
,
coming
in
a
little
later
,
found
her
deep
in
this
characteristic
pursuit
.
“
My
dear
,
”
Cassandra
exclaimed
,
shaking
the
book
at
her
cousin
,
“
my
whole
life’s
changed
from
this
moment
!
I
must
write
the
man’s
name
down
at
once
,
or
I
shall
forget
—
”
Whose
name
,
what
book
,
which
life
was
changed
Katharine
proceeded
to
ascertain
.
She
began
to
lay
aside
her
clothes
hurriedly
,
for
she
was
very
late
.
“
May
I
sit
and
watch
you
?
”
Cassandra
asked
,
shutting
up
her
book
.
“
I
got
ready
on
purpose
.
”
“
Oh
,
you’re
ready
,
are
you
?
”
said
Katharine
,
half
turning
in
the
midst
of
her
operations
,
and
looking
at
Cassandra
,
who
sat
,
clasping
her
knees
,
on
the
edge
of
the
bed
.
“
There
are
people
dining
here
,
”
she
said
,
taking
in
the
effect
of
Cassandra
from
a
new
point
of
view
.
After
an
interval
,
the
distinction
,
the
irregular
charm
,
of
the
small
face
with
its
long
tapering
nose
and
its
bright
oval
eyes
were
very
notable
.
The
hair
rose
up
off
the
forehead
rather
stiffly
,
and
,
given
a
more
careful
treatment
by
hairdressers
and
dressmakers
,
the
light
angular
figure
might
possess
a
likeness
to
a
French
lady
of
distinction
in
the
eighteenth
century
.
“
Who’s
coming
to
dinner
?
”
Cassandra
asked
,
anticipating
further
possibilities
of
rapture
.
“
There’s
William
,
and
,
I
believe
,
Aunt
Eleanor
and
Uncle
Aubrey
.
”
“
I’m
so
glad
William
is
coming
.
Did
he
tell
you
that
he
sent
me
his
manuscript
?
I
think
it’s
wonderful
—
I
think
he’s
almost
good
enough
for
you
,
Katharine
.
”
“
You
shall
sit
next
to
him
and
tell
him
what
you
think
of
him
.
”
“
I
shan’t
dare
do
that
,
”
Cassandra
asserted
.
“
Why
?
You’re
not
afraid
of
him
,
are
you
?
”
“
A
little
—
because
he’s
connected
with
you
.
”
Katharine
smiled
.
“
But
then
,
with
your
well-known
fidelity
,
considering
that
you’re
staying
here
at
least
a
fortnight
,
you
won’t
have
any
illusions
left
about
me
by
the
time
you
go
.
I
give
you
a
week
,
Cassandra
.
I
shall
see
my
power
fading
day
by
day
.
Now
it’s
at
the
climax
;
but
to-morrow
it’ll
have
begun
to
fade
.
What
am
I
to
wear
,
I
wonder
?
Find
me
a
blue
dress
,
Cassandra
,
over
there
in
the
long
wardrobe
.
”
She
spoke
disconnectedly
,
handling
brush
and
comb
,
and
pulling
out
the
little
drawers
in
her
dressing-table
and
leaving
them
open
.
Cassandra
,
sitting
on
the
bed
behind
her
,
saw
the
reflection
of
her
cousin’s
face
in
the
looking-glass
.
The
face
in
the
looking-glass
was
serious
and
intent
,
apparently
occupied
with
other
things
besides
the
straightness
of
the
parting
which
,
however
,
was
being
driven
as
straight
as
a
Roman
road
through
the
dark
hair
.
Cassandra
was
impressed
again
by
Katharine’s
maturity
;
and
,
as
she
enveloped
herself
in
the
blue
dress
which
filled
almost
the
whole
of
the
long
looking-glass
with
blue
light
and
made
it
the
frame
of
a
picture
,
holding
not
only
the
slightly
moving
effigy
of
the
beautiful
woman
,
but
shapes
and
colors
of
objects
reflected
from
the
background
,
Cassandra
thought
that
no
sight
had
ever
been
quite
so
romantic
.
It
was
all
in
keeping
with
the
room
and
the
house
,
and
the
city
round
them
;
for
her
ears
had
not
yet
ceased
to
notice
the
hum
of
distant
wheels
.
They
went
downstairs
rather
late
,
in
spite
of
Katharine’s
extreme
speed
in
getting
ready
.
To
Cassandra’s
ears
the
buzz
of
voices
inside
the
drawing-room
was
like
the
tuning
up
of
the
instruments
of
the
orchestra
.
It
seemed
to
her
that
there
were
numbers
of
people
in
the
room
,
and
that
they
were
strangers
,
and
that
they
were
beautiful
and
dressed
with
the
greatest
distinction
,
although
they
proved
to
be
mostly
her
relations
,
and
the
distinction
of
their
clothing
was
confined
,
in
the
eyes
of
an
impartial
observer
,
to
the
white
waistcoat
which
Rodney
wore
.
But
they
all
rose
simultaneously
,
which
was
by
itself
impressive
,
and
they
all
exclaimed
,
and
shook
hands
,
and
she
was
introduced
to
Mr.
Peyton
,
and
the
door
sprang
open
,
and
dinner
was
announced
,
and
they
filed
off
,
William
Rodney
offering
her
his
slightly
bent
black
arm
,
as
she
had
secretly
hoped
he
would
.
In
short
,
had
the
scene
been
looked
at
only
through
her
eyes
,
it
must
have
been
described
as
one
of
magical
brilliancy
.
The
pattern
of
the
soup-plates
,
the
stiff
folds
of
the
napkins
,
which
rose
by
the
side
of
each
plate
in
the
shape
of
arum
lilies
,
the
long
sticks
of
bread
tied
with
pink
ribbon
,
the
silver
dishes
and
the
sea-colored
champagne
glasses
,
with
the
flakes
of
gold
congealed
in
their
stems
—
all
these
details
,
together
with
a
curiously
pervasive
smell
of
kid
gloves
,
contributed
to
her
exhilaration
,
which
must
be
repressed
,
however
,
because
she
was
grown
up
,
and
the
world
held
no
more
for
her
to
marvel
at
.
The
world
held
no
more
for
her
to
marvel
at
,
it
is
true
;
but
it
held
other
people
;
and
each
other
person
possessed
in
Cassandra’s
mind
some
fragment
of
what
privately
she
called
“
reality
.
”
It
was
a
gift
that
they
would
impart
if
you
asked
them
for
it
,
and
thus
no
dinner-party
could
possibly
be
dull
,
and
little
Mr.
Peyton
on
her
right
and
William
Rodney
on
her
left
were
in
equal
measure
endowed
with
the
quality
which
seemed
to
her
so
unmistakable
and
so
precious
that
the
way
people
neglected
to
demand
it
was
a
constant
source
of
surprise
to
her
.
She
scarcely
knew
,
indeed
,
whether
she
was
talking
to
Mr.
Peyton
or
to
William
Rodney
.
But
to
one
who
,
by
degrees
,
assumed
the
shape
of
an
elderly
man
with
a
mustache
,
she
described
how
she
had
arrived
in
London
that
very
afternoon
,
and
how
she
had
taken
a
cab
and
driven
through
the
streets
.
Mr.
Peyton
,
an
editor
of
fifty
years
,
bowed
his
bald
head
repeatedly
,
with
apparent
understanding
.
At
least
,
he
understood
that
she
was
very
young
and
pretty
,
and
saw
that
she
was
excited
,
though
he
could
not
gather
at
once
from
her
words
or
remember
from
his
own
experience
what
there
was
to
be
excited
about
.
“
Were
there
any
buds
on
the
trees
?
”
he
asked
.
“
Which
line
did
she
travel
by
?
”
He
was
cut
short
in
these
amiable
inquiries
by
her
desire
to
know
whether
he
was
one
of
those
who
read
,
or
one
of
those
who
look
out
of
the
window
?
Mr.
Peyton
was
by
no
means
sure
which
he
did
.
He
rather
thought
he
did
both
.
He
was
told
that
he
had
made
a
most
dangerous
confession
.
She
could
deduce
his
entire
history
from
that
one
fact
.
He
challenged
her
to
proceed
;
and
she
proclaimed
him
a
Liberal
Member
of
Parliament
.
William
,
nominally
engaged
in
a
desultory
conversation
with
Aunt
Eleanor
,
heard
every
word
,
and
taking
advantage
of
the
fact
that
elderly
ladies
have
little
continuity
of
conversation
,
at
least
with
those
whom
they
esteem
for
their
youth
and
their
sex
,
he
asserted
his
presence
by
a
very
nervous
laugh
.
Cassandra
turned
to
him
directly
.
She
was
enchanted
to
find
that
,
instantly
and
with
such
ease
,
another
of
these
fascinating
beings
was
offering
untold
wealth
for
her
extraction
.
“
There’s
no
doubt
what
you
do
in
a
railway
carriage
,
William
,
”
she
said
,
making
use
in
her
pleasure
of
his
first
name
.
“
You
never
once
look
out
of
the
window
;
you
read
all
the
time
.
”
“
And
what
facts
do
you
deduce
from
that
?
”
Mr.
Peyton
asked
.
“
Oh
,
that
he’s
a
poet
,
of
course
,
”
said
Cassandra
.
“
But
I
must
confess
that
I
knew
that
before
,
so
it
isn’t
fair
.
I’ve
got
your
manuscript
with
me
,
”
she
went
on
,
disregarding
Mr.
Peyton
in
a
shameless
way
.
“
I’ve
got
all
sorts
of
things
I
want
to
ask
you
about
it
.
”
William
inclined
his
head
and
tried
to
conceal
the
pleasure
that
her
remark
gave
him
.
But
the
pleasure
was
not
unalloyed
.
However
susceptible
to
flattery
William
might
be
,
he
would
never
tolerate
it
from
people
who
showed
a
gross
or
emotional
taste
in
literature
,
and
if
Cassandra
erred
even
slightly
from
what
he
considered
essential
in
this
respect
he
would
express
his
discomfort
by
flinging
out
his
hands
and
wrinkling
his
forehead
;
he
would
find
no
pleasure
in
her
flattery
after
that
.
“
First
of
all
,
”
she
proceeded
,
“
I
want
to
know
why
you
chose
to
write
a
play
?
”
“
Ah
!
You
mean
it’s
not
dramatic
?
”
“
I
mean
that
I
don’t
see
what
it
would
gain
by
being
acted
.
But
then
does
Shakespeare
gain
?
Henry
and
I
are
always
arguing
about
Shakespeare
.
I’m
certain
he’s
wrong
,
but
I
can’t
prove
it
because
I’ve
only
seen
Shakespeare
acted
once
in
Lincoln
.
But
I’m
quite
positive
,
”
she
insisted
,
“
that
Shakespeare
wrote
for
the
stage
.
”
“
You’re
perfectly
right
,
”
Rodney
exclaimed
.
“
I
was
hoping
you
were
on
that
side
.
Henry’s
wrong
—
entirely
wrong
.
Of
course
,
I’ve
failed
,
as
all
the
moderns
fail
.
Dear
,
dear
,
I
wish
I’d
consulted
you
before
.
”
From
this
point
they
proceeded
to
go
over
,
as
far
as
memory
served
them
,
the
different
aspects
of
Rodney’s
drama
.
She
said
nothing
that
jarred
upon
him
,
and
untrained
daring
had
the
power
to
stimulate
experience
to
such
an
extent
that
Rodney
was
frequently
seen
to
hold
his
fork
suspended
before
him
,
while
he
debated
the
first
principles
of
the
art
.
Mrs.
Hilbery
thought
to
herself
that
she
had
never
seen
him
to
such
advantage
;
yes
,
he
was
somehow
different
;
he
reminded
her
of
some
one
who
was
dead
,
some
one
who
was
distinguished
—
she
had
forgotten
his
name
.
Cassandra’s
voice
rose
high
in
its
excitement
.
“
You’ve
not
read
‘The
Idiot’
!
”
she
exclaimed
.
“
I’ve
read
‘War
and
Peace’
,
”
William
replied
,
a
little
testily
.
“
‘
War
and
Peace
’
!
”
she
echoed
,
in
a
tone
of
derision
.
“
I
confess
I
don’t
understand
the
Russians
.
”
“
Shake
hands
!
Shake
hands
!
”
boomed
Uncle
Aubrey
from
across
the
table
.
“
Neither
do
I
.
And
I
hazard
the
opinion
that
they
don’t
themselves
.
”
The
old
gentleman
had
ruled
a
large
part
of
the
Indian
Empire
,
but
he
was
in
the
habit
of
saying
that
he
had
rather
have
written
the
works
of
Dickens
.
The
table
now
took
possession
of
a
subject
much
to
its
liking
.
Aunt
Eleanor
showed
premonitory
signs
of
pronouncing
an
opinion
.
Although
she
had
blunted
her
taste
upon
some
form
of
philanthropy
for
twenty-five
years
,
she
had
a
fine
natural
instinct
for
an
upstart
or
a
pretender
,
and
knew
to
a
hairbreadth
what
literature
should
be
and
what
it
should
not
be
.
She
was
born
to
the
knowledge
,
and
scarcely
thought
it
a
matter
to
be
proud
of
.
“
Insanity
is
not
a
fit
subject
for
fiction
,
”
she
announced
positively
.
“
There’s
the
well-known
case
of
Hamlet
,
”
Mr.
Hilbery
interposed
,
in
his
leisurely
,
half-humorous
tones
.
“
Ah
,
but
poetry’s
different
,
Trevor
,
”
said
Aunt
Eleanor
,
as
if
she
had
special
authority
from
Shakespeare
to
say
so
.
“
Different
altogether
.
And
I’ve
never
thought
,
for
my
part
,
that
Hamlet
was
as
mad
as
they
make
out
.
What
is
your
opinion
,
Mr.
Peyton
?
”
For
,
as
there
was
a
minister
of
literature
present
in
the
person
of
the
editor
of
an
esteemed
review
,
she
deferred
to
him
.
Mr.
Peyton
leant
a
little
back
in
his
chair
,
and
,
putting
his
head
rather
on
one
side
,
observed
that
that
was
a
question
that
he
had
never
been
able
to
answer
entirely
to
his
satisfaction
.
There
was
much
to
be
said
on
both
sides
,
but
as
he
considered
upon
which
side
he
should
say
it
,
Mrs.
Hilbery
broke
in
upon
his
judicious
meditations
.
“
Lovely
,
lovely
Ophelia
!
”
she
exclaimed
.
“
What
a
wonderful
power
it
is
—
poetry
!
I
wake
up
in
the
morning
all
bedraggled
;
there’s
a
yellow
fog
outside
;
little
Emily
turns
on
the
electric
light
when
she
brings
me
my
tea
,
and
says
,
‘Oh
,
ma’am
,
the
water’s
frozen
in
the
cistern
,
and
cook’s
cut
her
finger
to
the
bone.’
And
then
I
open
a
little
green
book
,
and
the
birds
are
singing
,
the
stars
shining
,
the
flowers
twinkling
—
”
She
looked
about
her
as
if
these
presences
had
suddenly
manifested
themselves
round
her
dining-room
table
.
“
Has
the
cook
cut
her
finger
badly
?
”
Aunt
Eleanor
demanded
,
addressing
herself
naturally
to
Katharine
.
“
Oh
,
the
cook’s
finger
is
only
my
way
of
putting
it
,
”
said
Mrs.
Hilbery
.
“
But
if
she
had
cut
her
arm
off
,
Katharine
would
have
sewn
it
on
again
,
”
she
remarked
,
with
an
affectionate
glance
at
her
daughter
,
who
looked
,
she
thought
,
a
little
sad
.
“
But
what
horrid
,
horrid
thoughts
,
”
she
wound
up
,
laying
down
her
napkin
and
pushing
her
chair
back
.
“
Come
,
let
us
find
something
more
cheerful
to
talk
about
upstairs
.
”
Upstairs
in
the
drawing-room
Cassandra
found
fresh
sources
of
pleasure
,
first
in
the
distinguished
and
expectant
look
of
the
room
,
and
then
in
the
chance
of
exercising
her
divining-rod
upon
a
new
assortment
of
human
beings
.
But
the
low
tones
of
the
women
,
their
meditative
silences
,
the
beauty
which
,
to
her
at
least
,
shone
even
from
black
satin
and
the
knobs
of
amber
which
encircled
elderly
necks
,
changed
her
wish
to
chatter
to
a
more
subdued
desire
merely
to
watch
and
to
whisper
.
She
entered
with
delight
into
an
atmosphere
in
which
private
matters
were
being
interchanged
freely
,
almost
in
monosyllables
,
by
the
older
women
who
now
accepted
her
as
one
of
themselves
.
Her
expression
became
very
gentle
and
sympathetic
,
as
if
she
,
too
,
were
full
of
solicitude
for
the
world
which
was
somehow
being
cared
for
,
managed
and
deprecated
by
Aunt
Maggie
and
Aunt
Eleanor
.
After
a
time
she
perceived
that
Katharine
was
outside
the
community
in
some
way
,
and
,
suddenly
,
she
threw
aside
her
wisdom
and
gentleness
and
concern
and
began
to
laugh
.
“
What
are
you
laughing
at
?
”
Katharine
asked
.
A
joke
so
foolish
and
unfilial
wasn’t
worth
explaining
.
“
It
was
nothing
—
ridiculous
—
in
the
worst
of
taste
,
but
still
,
if
you
half
shut
your
eyes
and
looked
—
”
Katharine
half
shut
her
eyes
and
looked
,
but
she
looked
in
the
wrong
direction
,
and
Cassandra
laughed
more
than
ever
,
and
was
still
laughing
and
doing
her
best
to
explain
in
a
whisper
that
Aunt
Eleanor
,
through
half-shut
eyes
,
was
like
the
parrot
in
the
cage
at
Stogdon
House
,
when
the
gentlemen
came
in
and
Rodney
walked
straight
up
to
them
and
wanted
to
know
what
they
were
laughing
at
.
“
I
utterly
refuse
to
tell
you
!
”
Cassandra
replied
,
standing
up
straight
,
clasping
her
hands
in
front
of
her
,
and
facing
him
.
Her
mockery
was
delicious
to
him
.
He
had
not
even
for
a
second
the
fear
that
she
had
been
laughing
at
him
.
She
was
laughing
because
life
was
so
adorable
,
so
enchanting
.
“
Ah
,
but
you’re
cruel
to
make
me
feel
the
barbarity
of
my
sex
,
”
he
replied
,
drawing
his
feet
together
and
pressing
his
finger-tips
upon
an
imaginary
opera-hat
or
malacca
cane
.
“
We’ve
been
discussing
all
sorts
of
dull
things
,
and
now
I
shall
never
know
what
I
want
to
know
more
than
anything
in
the
world
.
”
“
You
don’t
deceive
us
for
a
minute
!
”
she
cried
.
“
Not
for
a
second
.
We
both
know
that
you’ve
been
enjoying
yourself
immensely
.
Hasn’t
he
,
Katharine
?
”
“
No
,
”
she
replied
,
“
I
think
he’s
speaking
the
truth
.
He
doesn’t
care
much
for
politics
.
”
Her
words
,
though
spoken
simply
,
produced
a
curious
change
in
the
light
,
sparkling
atmosphere
.
William
at
once
lost
his
look
of
animation
and
said
seriously
:
“
I
detest
politics
.
”
“
I
don’t
think
any
man
has
the
right
to
say
that
,
”
said
Cassandra
,
almost
severely
.
“
I
agree
.
I
mean
that
I
detest
politicians
,
”
he
corrected
himself
quickly
.
“
You
see
,
I
believe
Cassandra
is
what
they
call
a
Feminist
,
”
Katharine
went
on
.
“
Or
rather
,
she
was
a
Feminist
six
months
ago
,
but
it’s
no
good
supposing
that
she
is
now
what
she
was
then
.
That
is
one
of
her
greatest
charms
in
my
eyes
.
One
never
can
tell
.
”
She
smiled
at
her
as
an
elder
sister
might
smile
.
“
Katharine
,
you
make
one
feel
so
horribly
small
!
”
Cassandra
exclaimed
.
“
No
,
no
,
that’s
not
what
she
means
,
”
Rodney
interposed
.
“
I
quite
agree
that
women
have
an
immense
advantage
over
us
there
.
One
misses
a
lot
by
attempting
to
know
things
thoroughly
.
”
“
He
knows
Greek
thoroughly
,
”
said
Katharine
.
“
But
then
he
also
knows
a
good
deal
about
painting
,
and
a
certain
amount
about
music
.
He’s
very
cultivated
—
perhaps
the
most
cultivated
person
I
know
.
”
“
And
poetry
,
”
Cassandra
added
.
“
Yes
,
I
was
forgetting
his
play
,
”
Katharine
remarked
,
and
turning
her
head
as
though
she
saw
something
that
needed
her
attention
in
a
far
corner
of
the
room
,
she
left
them
.
For
a
moment
they
stood
silent
,
after
what
seemed
a
deliberate
introduction
to
each
other
,
and
Cassandra
watched
her
crossing
the
room
.
“
Henry
,
”
she
said
next
moment
,
“
would
say
that
a
stage
ought
to
be
no
bigger
than
this
drawing-room
.
He
wants
there
to
be
singing
and
dancing
as
well
as
acting
—
only
all
the
opposite
of
Wagner
—
you
understand
?
”
They
sat
down
,
and
Katharine
,
turning
when
she
reached
the
window
,
saw
William
with
his
hand
raised
in
gesticulation
and
his
mouth
open
,
as
if
ready
to
speak
the
moment
Cassandra
ceased
.
Katharine’s
duty
,
whether
it
was
to
pull
a
curtain
or
move
a
chair
,
was
either
forgotten
or
discharged
,
but
she
continued
to
stand
by
the
window
without
doing
anything
.
The
elderly
people
were
all
grouped
together
round
the
fire
.
They
seemed
an
independent
,
middle-aged
community
busy
with
its
own
concerns
.
They
were
telling
stories
very
well
and
listening
to
them
very
graciously
.
But
for
her
there
was
no
obvious
employment
.
“
If
anybody
says
anything
,
I
shall
say
that
I’m
looking
at
the
river
,
”
she
thought
,
for
in
her
slavery
to
her
family
traditions
,
she
was
ready
to
pay
for
her
transgression
with
some
plausible
falsehood
.
She
pushed
aside
the
blind
and
looked
at
the
river
.
But
it
was
a
dark
night
and
the
water
was
barely
visible
.
Cabs
were
passing
,
and
couples
were
loitering
slowly
along
the
road
,
keeping
as
close
to
the
railings
as
possible
,
though
the
trees
had
as
yet
no
leaves
to
cast
shadow
upon
their
embraces
.
Katharine
,
thus
withdrawn
,
felt
her
loneliness
.
The
evening
had
been
one
of
pain
,
offering
her
,
minute
after
minute
,
plainer
proof
that
things
would
fall
out
as
she
had
foreseen
.
She
had
faced
tones
,
gestures
,
glances
;
she
knew
,
with
her
back
to
them
,
that
William
,
even
now
,
was
plunging
deeper
and
deeper
into
the
delight
of
unexpected
understanding
with
Cassandra
.
He
had
almost
told
her
that
he
was
finding
it
infinitely
better
than
he
could
have
believed
.
She
looked
out
of
the
window
,
sternly
determined
to
forget
private
misfortunes
,
to
forget
herself
,
to
forget
individual
lives
.
With
her
eyes
upon
the
dark
sky
,
voices
reached
her
from
the
room
in
which
she
was
standing
.
She
heard
them
as
if
they
came
from
people
in
another
world
,
a
world
antecedent
to
her
world
,
a
world
that
was
the
prelude
,
the
antechamber
to
reality
;
it
was
as
if
,
lately
dead
,
she
heard
the
living
talking
.
The
dream
nature
of
our
life
had
never
been
more
apparent
to
her
,
never
had
life
been
more
certainly
an
affair
of
four
walls
,
whose
objects
existed
only
within
the
range
of
lights
and
fires
,
beyond
which
lay
nothing
,
or
nothing
more
than
darkness
.
She
seemed
physically
to
have
stepped
beyond
the
region
where
the
light
of
illusion
still
makes
it
desirable
to
possess
,
to
love
,
to
struggle
.
And
yet
her
melancholy
brought
her
no
serenity
.
She
still
heard
the
voices
within
the
room
.
She
was
still
tormented
by
desires
.
She
wished
to
be
beyond
their
range
.
She
wished
inconsistently
enough
that
she
could
find
herself
driving
rapidly
through
the
streets
;
she
was
even
anxious
to
be
with
some
one
who
,
after
a
moment’s
groping
,
took
a
definite
shape
and
solidified
into
the
person
of
Mary
Datchet
.
She
drew
the
curtains
so
that
the
draperies
met
in
deep
folds
in
the
middle
of
the
window
.
“
Ah
,
there
she
is
,
”
said
Mr.
Hilbery
,
who
was
standing
swaying
affably
from
side
to
side
,
with
his
back
to
the
fire
.
“
Come
here
,
Katharine
.
I
couldn’t
see
where
you’d
got
to
—
our
children
,
”
he
observed
parenthetically
,
“
have
their
uses
—
I
want
you
to
go
to
my
study
,
Katharine
;
go
to
the
third
shelf
on
the
right-hand
side
of
the
door
;
take
down
‘Trelawny’s
Recollections
of
Shelley’
;
bring
it
to
me
.
Then
,
Peyton
,
you
will
have
to
admit
to
the
assembled
company
that
you
have
been
mistaken
.
”
“
‘Trelawny’s
Recollections
of
Shelley.’
The
third
shelf
on
the
right
of
the
door
,
”
Katharine
repeated
.
After
all
,
one
does
not
check
children
in
their
play
,
or
rouse
sleepers
from
their
dreams
.
She
passed
William
and
Cassandra
on
her
way
to
the
door
.
“
Stop
,
Katharine
,
”
said
William
,
speaking
almost
as
if
he
were
conscious
of
her
against
his
will
.
“
Let
me
go
.
”
He
rose
,
after
a
second’s
hesitation
,
and
she
understood
that
it
cost
him
an
effort
.
She
knelt
one
knee
upon
the
sofa
where
Cassandra
sat
,
looking
down
at
her
cousin’s
face
,
which
still
moved
with
the
speed
of
what
she
had
been
saying
.
“
Are
you
—
happy
?
”
she
asked
.
“
Oh
,
my
dear
!
”
Cassandra
exclaimed
,
as
if
no
further
words
were
needed
.
“
Of
course
,
we
disagree
about
every
subject
under
the
sun
,
”
she
exclaimed
,
“
but
I
think
he’s
the
cleverest
man
I’ve
ever
met
—
and
you’re
the
most
beautiful
woman
,
”
she
added
,
looking
at
Katharine
,
and
as
she
looked
her
face
lost
its
animation
and
became
almost
melancholy
in
sympathy
with
Katharine’s
melancholy
,
which
seemed
to
Cassandra
the
last
refinement
of
her
distinction
.
“
Ah
,
but
it’s
only
ten
o’clock
,
”
said
Katharine
darkly
.
“
As
late
as
that
!
Well
—
?
”
She
did
not
understand
.
“
At
twelve
my
horses
turn
into
rats
and
off
I
go
.
The
illusion
fades
.
But
I
accept
my
fate
.
I
make
hay
while
the
sun
shines
.
”
Cassandra
looked
at
her
with
a
puzzled
expression
.
“
Here’s
Katharine
talking
about
rats
,
and
hay
,
and
all
sorts
of
odd
things
,
”
she
said
,
as
William
returned
to
them
.
He
had
been
quick
.
“
Can
you
make
her
out
?
”
Katharine
perceived
from
his
little
frown
and
hesitation
that
he
did
not
find
that
particular
problem
to
his
taste
at
present
.
She
stood
upright
at
once
and
said
in
a
different
tone
:
“
I
really
am
off
,
though
.
I
wish
you’d
explain
if
they
say
anything
,
William
.
I
shan’t
be
late
,
but
I’ve
got
to
see
some
one
.
”
“
At
this
time
of
night
?
”
Cassandra
exclaimed
.
“
Whom
have
you
got
to
see
?
”
William
demanded
.
“
A
friend
,
”
she
remarked
,
half
turning
her
head
towards
him
.
She
knew
that
he
wished
her
to
stay
,
not
,
indeed
,
with
them
,
but
in
their
neighborhood
,
in
case
of
need
.
“
Katharine
has
a
great
many
friends
,
”
said
William
rather
lamely
,
sitting
down
once
more
,
as
Katharine
left
the
room
.
She
was
soon
driving
quickly
,
as
she
had
wished
to
drive
,
through
the
lamp-lit
streets
.
She
liked
both
light
and
speed
,
and
the
sense
of
being
out
of
doors
alone
,
and
the
knowledge
that
she
would
reach
Mary
in
her
high
,
lonely
room
at
the
end
of
the
drive
.
She
climbed
the
stone
steps
quickly
,
remarking
the
queer
look
of
her
blue
silk
skirt
and
blue
shoes
upon
the
stone
,
dusty
with
the
boots
of
the
day
,
under
the
light
of
an
occasional
jet
of
flickering
gas
.
The
door
was
opened
in
a
second
by
Mary
herself
,
whose
face
showed
not
only
surprise
at
the
sight
of
her
visitor
,
but
some
degree
of
embarrassment
.
She
greeted
her
cordially
,
and
,
as
there
was
no
time
for
explanations
,
Katharine
walked
straight
into
the
sitting-room
,
and
found
herself
in
the
presence
of
a
young
man
who
was
lying
back
in
a
chair
and
holding
a
sheet
of
paper
in
his
hand
,
at
which
he
was
looking
as
if
he
expected
to
go
on
immediately
with
what
he
was
in
the
middle
of
saying
to
Mary
Datchet
.
The
apparition
of
an
unknown
lady
in
full
evening
dress
seemed
to
disturb
him
.
He
took
his
pipe
from
his
mouth
,
rose
stiffly
,
and
sat
down
again
with
a
jerk
.
“
Have
you
been
dining
out
?
”
Mary
asked
.
“
Are
you
working
?
”
Katharine
inquired
simultaneously
.
The
young
man
shook
his
head
,
as
if
he
disowned
his
share
in
the
question
with
some
irritation
.
“
Well
,
not
exactly
,
”
Mary
replied
.
“
Mr.
Basnett
had
brought
some
papers
to
show
me
.
We
were
going
through
them
,
but
we’d
almost
done
...
.
Tell
us
about
your
party
.
”
Mary
had
a
ruffled
appearance
,
as
if
she
had
been
running
her
fingers
through
her
hair
in
the
course
of
her
conversation
;
she
was
dressed
more
or
less
like
a
Russian
peasant
girl
.
She
sat
down
again
in
a
chair
which
looked
as
if
it
had
been
her
seat
for
some
hours
;
the
saucer
which
stood
upon
the
arm
contained
the
ashes
of
many
cigarettes
.
Mr.
Basnett
,
a
very
young
man
with
a
fresh
complexion
and
a
high
forehead
from
which
the
hair
was
combed
straight
back
,
was
one
of
that
group
of
“
very
able
young
men
”
suspected
by
Mr.
Clacton
,
justly
as
it
turned
out
,
of
an
influence
upon
Mary
Datchet
.
He
had
come
down
from
one
of
the
Universities
not
long
ago
,
and
was
now
charged
with
the
reformation
of
society
.
In
connection
with
the
rest
of
the
group
of
very
able
young
men
he
had
drawn
up
a
scheme
for
the
education
of
labor
,
for
the
amalgamation
of
the
middle
class
and
the
working
class
,
and
for
a
joint
assault
of
the
two
bodies
,
combined
in
the
Society
for
the
Education
of
Democracy
,
upon
Capital
.
The
scheme
had
already
reached
the
stage
in
which
it
was
permissible
to
hire
an
office
and
engage
a
secretary
,
and
he
had
been
deputed
to
expound
the
scheme
to
Mary
,
and
make
her
an
offer
of
the
Secretaryship
,
to
which
,
as
a
matter
of
principle
,
a
small
salary
was
attached
.
Since
seven
o’clock
that
evening
he
had
been
reading
out
loud
the
document
in
which
the
faith
of
the
new
reformers
was
expounded
,
but
the
reading
was
so
frequently
interrupted
by
discussion
,
and
it
was
so
often
necessary
to
inform
Mary
“
in
strictest
confidence
”
of
the
private
characters
and
evil
designs
of
certain
individuals
and
societies
that
they
were
still
only
half-way
through
the
manuscript
.
Neither
of
them
realized
that
the
talk
had
already
lasted
three
hours
.
In
their
absorption
they
had
forgotten
even
to
feed
the
fire
,
and
yet
both
Mr.
Basnett
in
his
exposition
,
and
Mary
in
her
interrogation
,
carefully
preserved
a
kind
of
formality
calculated
to
check
the
desire
of
the
human
mind
for
irrelevant
discussion
.
Her
questions
frequently
began
,
“
Am
I
to
understand
—
”
and
his
replies
invariably
represented
the
views
of
some
one
called
“
we
.
”
By
this
time
Mary
was
almost
persuaded
that
she
,
too
,
was
included
in
the
“
we
,
”
and
agreed
with
Mr.
Basnett
in
believing
that
“
our
”
views
,
“
our
”
society
,
“
our
”
policy
,
stood
for
something
quite
definitely
segregated
from
the
main
body
of
society
in
a
circle
of
superior
illumination
.
The
appearance
of
Katharine
in
this
atmosphere
was
extremely
incongruous
,
and
had
the
effect
of
making
Mary
remember
all
sorts
of
things
that
she
had
been
glad
to
forget
.
“
You’ve
been
dining
out
?
”
she
asked
again
,
looking
,
with
a
little
smile
,
at
the
blue
silk
and
the
pearl-sewn
shoes
.
“
No
,
at
home
.
Are
you
starting
something
new
?
”
Katharine
hazarded
,
rather
hesitatingly
,
looking
at
the
papers
.
“
We
are
,
”
Mr.
Basnett
replied
.
He
said
no
more
.
“
I’m
thinking
of
leaving
our
friends
in
Russell
Square
,
”
Mary
explained
.
“
I
see
.
And
then
you
will
do
something
else
.
”
“
Well
,
I’m
afraid
I
like
working
,
”
said
Mary
.
“
Afraid
,
”
said
Mr.
Basnett
,
conveying
the
impression
that
,
in
his
opinion
,
no
sensible
person
could
be
afraid
of
liking
to
work
.
“
Yes
,
”
said
Katharine
,
as
if
he
had
stated
this
opinion
aloud
.
“
I
should
like
to
start
something
—
something
off
one’s
own
bat
—
that’s
what
I
should
like
.
”
“
Yes
,
that’s
the
fun
,
”
said
Mr.
Basnett
,
looking
at
her
for
the
first
time
rather
keenly
,
and
refilling
his
pipe
.
“
But
you
can’t
limit
work
—
that’s
what
I
mean
,
”
said
Mary
.
“
I
mean
there
are
other
sorts
of
work
.
No
one
works
harder
than
a
woman
with
little
children
.
”
“
Quite
so
,
”
said
Mr.
Basnett
.
“
It’s
precisely
the
women
with
babies
we
want
to
get
hold
of
.
”
He
glanced
at
his
document
,
rolled
it
into
a
cylinder
between
his
fingers
,
and
gazed
into
the
fire
.
Katharine
felt
that
in
this
company
anything
that
one
said
would
be
judged
upon
its
merits
;
one
had
only
to
say
what
one
thought
,
rather
barely
and
tersely
,
with
a
curious
assumption
that
the
number
of
things
that
could
properly
be
thought
about
was
strictly
limited
.
And
Mr.
Basnett
was
only
stiff
upon
the
surface
;
there
was
an
intelligence
in
his
face
which
attracted
her
intelligence
.
“
When
will
the
public
know
?
”
she
asked
.
“
What
d’you
mean
—
about
us
?
”
Mr.
Basnett
asked
,
with
a
little
smile
.
“
That
depends
upon
many
things
,
”
said
Mary
.
The
conspirators
looked
pleased
,
as
if
Katharine’s
question
,
with
the
belief
in
their
existence
which
it
implied
,
had
a
warming
effect
upon
them
.
“
In
starting
a
society
such
as
we
wish
to
start
(
we
can’t
say
any
more
at
present
)
,
”
Mr.
Basnett
began
,
with
a
little
jerk
of
his
head
,
“
there
are
two
things
to
remember
—
the
Press
and
the
public
.
Other
societies
,
which
shall
be
nameless
,
have
gone
under
because
they’ve
appealed
only
to
cranks
.
If
you
don’t
want
a
mutual
admiration
society
,
which
dies
as
soon
as
you’ve
all
discovered
each
other’s
faults
,
you
must
nobble
the
Press
.
You
must
appeal
to
the
public
.
”
“
That’s
the
difficulty
,
”
said
Mary
thoughtfully
.
“
That’s
where
she
comes
in
,
”
said
Mr.
Basnett
,
jerking
his
head
in
Mary’s
direction
.
“
She’s
the
only
one
of
us
who’s
a
capitalist
.
She
can
make
a
whole-time
job
of
it
.
I’m
tied
to
an
office
;
I
can
only
give
my
spare
time
.
Are
you
,
by
any
chance
,
on
the
look-out
for
a
job
?
”
he
asked
Katharine
,
with
a
queer
mixture
of
distrust
and
deference
.
“
Marriage
is
her
job
at
present
,
”
Mary
replied
for
her
.
“
Oh
,
I
see
,
”
said
Mr.
Basnett
.
He
made
allowances
for
that
;
he
and
his
friends
had
faced
the
question
of
sex
,
along
with
all
others
,
and
assigned
it
an
honorable
place
in
their
scheme
of
life
.
Katharine
felt
this
beneath
the
roughness
of
his
manner
;
and
a
world
entrusted
to
the
guardianship
of
Mary
Datchet
and
Mr.
Basnett
seemed
to
her
a
good
world
,
although
not
a
romantic
or
beautiful
place
or
,
to
put
it
figuratively
,
a
place
where
any
line
of
blue
mist
softly
linked
tree
to
tree
upon
the
horizon
.
For
a
moment
she
thought
she
saw
in
his
face
,
bent
now
over
the
fire
,
the
features
of
that
original
man
whom
we
still
recall
every
now
and
then
,
although
we
know
only
the
clerk
,
barrister
,
Governmental
official
,
or
workingman
variety
of
him
.
Not
that
Mr.
Basnett
,
giving
his
days
to
commerce
and
his
spare
time
to
social
reform
,
would
long
carry
about
him
any
trace
of
his
possibilities
of
completeness
;
but
,
for
the
moment
,
in
his
youth
and
ardor
,
still
speculative
,
still
uncramped
,
one
might
imagine
him
the
citizen
of
a
nobler
state
than
ours
.
Katharine
turned
over
her
small
stock
of
information
,
and
wondered
what
their
society
might
be
going
to
attempt
.
Then
she
remembered
that
she
was
hindering
their
business
,
and
rose
,
still
thinking
of
this
society
,
and
thus
thinking
,
she
said
to
Mr.
Basnett
:
“
Well
,
you’ll
ask
me
to
join
when
the
time
comes
,
I
hope
.
”
He
nodded
,
and
took
his
pipe
from
his
mouth
,
but
,
being
unable
to
think
of
anything
to
say
,
he
put
it
back
again
,
although
he
would
have
been
glad
if
she
had
stayed
.
Against
her
wish
,
Mary
insisted
upon
taking
her
downstairs
,
and
then
,
as
there
was
no
cab
to
be
seen
,
they
stood
in
the
street
together
,
looking
about
them
.
“
Go
back
,
”
Katharine
urged
her
,
thinking
of
Mr.
Basnett
with
his
papers
in
his
hand
.
“
You
can’t
wander
about
the
streets
alone
in
those
clothes
,
”
said
Mary
,
but
the
desire
to
find
a
cab
was
not
her
true
reason
for
standing
beside
Katharine
for
a
minute
or
two
.
Unfortunately
for
her
composure
,
Mr.
Basnett
and
his
papers
seemed
to
her
an
incidental
diversion
of
life’s
serious
purpose
compared
with
some
tremendous
fact
which
manifested
itself
as
she
stood
alone
with
Katharine
.
It
may
have
been
their
common
womanhood
.
“
Have
you
seen
Ralph
?
”
she
asked
suddenly
,
without
preface
.
“
Yes
,
”
said
Katharine
directly
,
but
she
did
not
remember
when
or
where
she
had
seen
him
.
It
took
her
a
moment
or
two
to
remember
why
Mary
should
ask
her
if
she
had
seen
Ralph
.
“
I
believe
I’m
jealous
,
”
said
Mary
.
“
Nonsense
,
Mary
,
”
said
Katharine
,
rather
distractedly
,
taking
her
arm
and
beginning
to
walk
up
the
street
in
the
direction
of
the
main
road
.
“
Let
me
see
;
we
went
to
Kew
,
and
we
agreed
to
be
friends
.
Yes
,
that’s
what
happened
.
”
Mary
was
silent
,
in
the
hope
that
Katharine
would
tell
her
more
.
But
Katharine
said
nothing
.
“
It’s
not
a
question
of
friendship
,
”
Mary
exclaimed
,
her
anger
rising
,
to
her
own
surprise
.
“
You
know
it’s
not
.
How
can
it
be
?
I’ve
no
right
to
interfere
—
”
She
stopped
.
“
Only
I’d
rather
Ralph
wasn’t
hurt
,
”
she
concluded
.
“
I
think
he
seems
able
to
take
care
of
himself
,
”
Katharine
observed
.
Without
either
of
them
wishing
it
,
a
feeling
of
hostility
had
risen
between
them
.
“
Do
you
really
think
it’s
worth
it
?
”
said
Mary
,
after
a
pause
.
