CHAPTER XXII

chslighterdegreethanshehadsuspected,orexistednolonger.Shelookedathimattentivelyasifthisdiscoveryofhersmustshowtracesinhisface.Neverhadsheseensomuchtorespectinhisappearance,somuchthatattractedherbyitssensitivenessandintelligence,althoughshesawthesequalitiesasiftheywerethoseonerespondsto,dumbly,inthefaceofastranger.Theheadbentoverthepaper,thoughtfulasusual,hadnowacomposurewhichseemedsomehowtoplaceitatadistance,likeafaceseentalkingtosomeoneelsebehindglass. Hewroteon,withoutraisinghiseyes.Shewouldhavespoken,butcouldnotbringherselftoaskhimforsignsofaffectionwhichshehadnorighttoclaim.Theconvictionthathewasthusstrangetoherfilledherwithdespondency,andillustratedquitebeyonddoubttheinfinitelonelinessofhumanbeings.Shehadneverfeltthetruthofthissostronglybefore.Shelookedawayintothefireitseemedtoherthatevenphysicallytheywerenowscarcelywithinspeakingdistanceandspirituallytherewascertainlynohumanbeingwithwhomshecouldclaimcomradeshipnodreamthatsatisfiedherasshewasusedtobesatisfiednothingremainedinwhoserealityshecouldbelieve,savethoseabstractideas—figures,laws,stars,facts,whichshecouldhardlyholdtoforlackofknowledgeandakindofshame. WhenRodneyownedtohimselfthefollyofthisprolongedsilence,andthemeannessofsuchdevices,andlookedupreadytoseeksomeexcuseforagoodlaugh,oropeningforaconfession,hewasdisconcertedbywhathesaw.Katharineseemedequallyobliviousofwhatwasbadorofwhatwasgoodinhim.Herexpressionsuggestedconcentrationuponsomethingentirelyremotefromhersurroundings.Thecarelessnessofherattitudeseemedtohimrathermasculinethanfeminine.Hisimpulsetobreakuptheconstraintwaschilled,andoncemoretheexasperatingsenseofhisownimpotencyreturnedtohim.HecouldnothelpcontrastingKatharinewithhisvisionoftheengaging,whimsicalCassandraKatharineundemonstrative,inconsiderate,silent,andyetsonotablethathecouldneverdowithouthergoodopinion. Sheveeredrounduponhimamomentlater,asif,whenhertrainofthoughtwasended,shebecameawareofhispresence. “Haveyoufinishedyourletter?”sheasked.Hethoughtheheardfaintamusementinhertone,butnotatraceofjealousy. “No,I’mnotgoingtowriteanymoreto-night,”hesaid.“I’mnotinthemoodforitforsomereason.Ican’tsaywhatIwanttosay.” “Cassandrawon’tknowifit’swellwrittenorbadlywritten,”Katharineremarked. “I’mnotsosureaboutthat.Ishouldsayshehasagooddealofliteraryfeeling.” “Perhaps,”saidKatharineindifferently.“You’vebeenneglectingmyeducationlately,bytheway.Iwishyou’dreadsomething.Letmechooseabook.”Sospeaking,shewentacrosstohisbookshelvesandbeganlookinginadesultorywayamonghisbooks.Anything,shethought,wasbetterthanbickeringorthestrangesilencewhichdrovehometoherthedistancebetweenthem.Asshepulledonebookforwardandthenanothershethoughtironicallyofherowncertaintynotanhouragohowithadvanishedinamoment,howshewasmerelymarkingtimeasbestshecould,notknowingintheleastwheretheystood,whattheyfelt,orwhetherWilliamlovedherornot.MoreandmoretheconditionofMary’smindseemedtoherwonderfulandenviable—if,indeed,itcouldbequiteasshefiguredit—if,indeed,simplicityexistedforanyoneofthedaughtersofwomen. “Swift,”shesaid,atlast,takingoutavolumeathaphazardtosettlethisquestionatleast.“LetushavesomeSwift.” Rodneytookthebook,helditinfrontofhim,insertedonefingerbetweenthepages,butsaidnothing.Hisfaceworeaqueerexpressionofdeliberation,asifhewereweighingonethingwithanother,andwouldnotsayanythinguntilhismindweremadeup. Katharine,takingherchairbesidehim,notedhissilenceandlookedathimwithsuddenapprehension.Whatshehopedorfeared,shecouldnothavesaidamostirrationalandindefensibledesireforsomeassuranceofhisaffectionwas,perhaps,uppermostinhermind.Peevishness,complaints,exactingcross-examinationshewasusedto,butthisattitudeofcomposedquiet,whichseemedtocomefromtheconsciousnessofpowerwithin,puzzledher.Shedidnotknowwhatwasgoingtohappennext. AtlastWilliamspoke. “Ithinkit’salittleodd,don’tyou?”hesaid,inavoiceofdetachedreflection.“Mostpeople,Imean,wouldbeseriouslyupsetiftheirmarriagewasputoffforsixmonthsorso.Butwearen’tnowhowdoyouaccountforthat?” Shelookedathimandobservedhisjudicialattitudeasofoneholdingfaralooffromemotion. “Iattributeit,”h