CHAPTER XXVI

t,”saidMrs.Hilbery.“Butifshehadcutherarmoff,Katharinewouldhavesewnitonagain,”sheremarked,withanaffectionateglanceatherdaughter,wholooked,shethought,alittlesad.“Butwhathorrid,horridthoughts,”shewoundup,layingdownhernapkinandpushingherchairback.“Come,letusfindsomethingmorecheerfultotalkaboutupstairs.” Upstairsinthedrawing-roomCassandrafoundfreshsourcesofpleasure,firstinthedistinguishedandexpectantlookoftheroom,andtheninthechanceofexercisingherdivining-roduponanewassortmentofhumanbeings.Butthelowtonesofthewomen,theirmeditativesilences,thebeautywhich,toheratleast,shoneevenfromblacksatinandtheknobsofamberwhichencircledelderlynecks,changedherwishtochattertoamoresubdueddesiremerelytowatchandtowhisper.Sheenteredwithdelightintoanatmosphereinwhichprivatematterswerebeinginterchangedfreely,almostinmonosyllables,bytheolderwomenwhonowacceptedherasoneofthemselves.Herexpressionbecameverygentleandsympathetic,asifshe,too,werefullofsolicitudefortheworldwhichwassomehowbeingcaredfor,managedanddeprecatedbyAuntMaggieandAuntEleanor.AfteratimesheperceivedthatKatharinewasoutsidethecommunityinsomeway,and,suddenly,shethrewasideherwisdomandgentlenessandconcernandbegantolaugh. “Whatareyoulaughingat?”Katharineasked. Ajokesofoolishandunfilialwasn’tworthexplaining. “Itwasnothing—ridiculous—intheworstoftaste,butstill,ifyouhalfshutyoureyesandlooked—”Katharinehalfshuthereyesandlooked,butshelookedinthewrongdirection,andCassandralaughedmorethanever,andwasstilllaughinganddoingherbesttoexplaininawhisperthatAuntEleanor,throughhalf-shuteyes,wasliketheparrotinthecageatStogdonHouse,whenthegentlemencameinandRodneywalkedstraightuptothemandwantedtoknowwhattheywerelaughingat. “Iutterlyrefusetotellyou!”Cassandrareplied,standingupstraight,claspingherhandsinfrontofher,andfacinghim.Hermockerywasdelicioustohim.Hehadnotevenforasecondthefearthatshehadbeenlaughingathim.Shewaslaughingbecauselifewassoadorable,soenchanting. “Ah,butyou’recrueltomakemefeelthebarbarityofmysex,”hereplied,drawinghisfeettogetherandpressinghisfinger-tipsuponanimaginaryopera-hatormalaccacane.“We’vebeendiscussingallsortsofdullthings,andnowIshallneverknowwhatIwanttoknowmorethananythingintheworld.” “Youdon’tdeceiveusforaminute!”shecried.“Notforasecond.Webothknowthatyou’vebeenenjoyingyourselfimmensely.Hasn’the,Katharine?” “No,”shereplied,“Ithinkhe’sspeakingthetruth.Hedoesn’tcaremuchforpolitics.” Herwords,thoughspokensimply,producedacuriouschangeinthelight,sparklingatmosphere.Williamatoncelosthislookofanimationandsaidseriously: “Idetestpolitics.” “Idon’tthinkanymanhastherighttosaythat,”saidCassandra,almostseverely. “Iagree.ImeanthatIdetestpoliticians,”hecorrectedhimselfquickly. “Yousee,IbelieveCassandraiswhattheycallaFeminist,”Katharinewenton.“Orrather,shewasaFeministsixmonthsago,butit’snogoodsupposingthatsheisnowwhatshewasthen.Thatisoneofhergreatestcharmsinmyeyes.Onenevercantell.”Shesmiledatherasaneldersistermightsmile. “Katharine,youmakeonefeelsohorriblysmall!”Cassandraexclaimed. “No,no,that’snotwhatshemeans,”Rodneyinterposed.“Iquiteagreethatwomenhaveanimmenseadvantageoverusthere.Onemissesalotbyattemptingtoknowthingsthoroughly.” “HeknowsGreekthoroughly,”saidKatharine.“Butthenhealsoknowsagooddealaboutpainting,andacertainamountaboutmusic.He’sverycultivated—perhapsthemostcultivatedpersonIknow.” “Andpoetry,”Cassandraadded. “Yes,Iwasforgettinghisplay,”Katharineremarked,andturningherheadasthoughshesawsomethingthatneededherattentioninafarcorneroftheroom,sheleftthem. Foramomenttheystoodsilent,afterwhatseemedadeliberateintroductiontoeachother,andCassandrawatchedhercrossingtheroom. “Henry,”shesaidnextmoment,“wouldsaythatastageoughttobenobiggerthanthisdrawing-room.Hewantstheretobesinginganddancingaswellasacting—onlyalltheoppositeofWagner—youunderstand?” Theysatdown,andKatharine,turningwhenshereachedthewindow,sawWilliamwithhishandraisedingesticulationandhismouthopen,asifreadytospeakthemomentCassandraceased. Katharine’sduty,whetheritwastopullacurtainormoveachair,waseitherforgottenordischarged,butshecontinuedtostandbythewindowwithoutdoinganything.Theelderlypeoplewereallgroupedtogetherroundthefire.Theyseemedanindependent,middle-agedcommunitybusywithitsownconcerns.Theyweretellingstoriesverywellandlisteningtothemverygraciously.Butforhertherewasnoobviousemployment. “Ifanybodysaysanything,IshallsaythatI’mlookingattheriver,”shethought,forinherslaverytoherfamilytraditions,shewasreadytopayforhertransgressionwithsomeplausiblefalsehood.Shepushedasidetheblindandlookedattheriver.Butitwasadarknightandthewaterwasbarelyvisible.Cabswerepassing,andcoupleswereloiteringslowlyalongtheroad,keepingasclosetotherailingsaspossible,thoughthetreeshadasyetnoleavestocastshadowupontheirembraces.Katharine,thuswithdrawn,feltherloneliness.Theeveninghadbeenoneofpain,offeringher,minuteafterminute,plainerproofthatthingswouldfalloutasshehadforeseen.Shehadfacedtones,gestures,glancessheknew,withherbacktothem,thatWilliam,evennow,wasplungingdeeperanddeeperintothedelightofunexpectedunderstandingwithCassandra.Hehadalmosttoldherthathewasfindingitinfinitelybetterthanhecouldhavebelieved.Shelookedoutofthewindow,sternlydeterminedtoforgetprivatemisfortunes,toforgetherself,toforgetindividuallives.Withhereyesuponthedarksky,voicesreachedherfromtheroominwhichshewasstanding.Sheheardthemasiftheycamefrompeopleinanotherworld,aworldantecedenttoherworld,aworldthatwastheprelude,theantechambertorealityitwasasif,latelydead,sheheardthelivingtalking.Thedreamnatureofourlifehadneverbeenmoreapparenttoher,neverhadlifebeenmorecertainlyanaffairoffourwalls,whoseobjectsexistedonlywithintherangeoflightsandfires,beyondwhichlaynothing,ornothingmorethandarkness.Sheseemedphysicallytohavesteppedbeyondtheregionwherethelightofillusionstillmakesitdesirabletopossess,tolove,tostruggle.Andyethermelancholybroughthernoserenity.Shestillheardthevoiceswithintheroom.Shewasstilltormentedbydesires.Shewishedtobebeyondtheirrange.Shewishedinconsistentlyenoughthatshecouldfindherselfdrivingrapidlythroughthestreetsshewasevenanxioustobewithsomeonewho,afteramoment’sgroping,tookadefiniteshapeandsolidifiedintothepersonofMaryDatchet.Shedrewthecurtainssothatthedraperiesmetindeepfoldsinthemiddleofthewindow. “Ah,theresheis,”saidMr.Hilbery,whowasstandingswayingaffablyfromsidetoside,withhisbacktothefire.“Comehere,Katharine.Icouldn’tseewhereyou’dgotto—ourchildren,”heobservedparenthetically,“havetheiruses—Iwantyoutogotomystudy,Katharinegotothethirdshelfontheright-handsideofthedoortakedown‘Trelawny’sRecollectionsofShelley’bringittome.Then,Peyton,youwillhavetoadmittotheassembledcompanythatyouhavebeenmistaken.” “‘Trelawny’sRecollectionsofShelley.’Thethirdshelfontherightofthedoor,”Katharinerepeated.Afterall,onedoesnotcheckchildrenintheirplay,orrousesleepersfromtheirdreams.ShepassedWilliamandCassandraonherwaytothedoor. “Stop,Katharine,”saidWilliam,speakingalmostasifhewereconsciousofheragainsthiswill.“Letmego.”Herose,afterasecond’shesitation,andsheunderstoodthatitcosthimaneffort.ShekneltonekneeuponthesofawhereCassandrasat,lookingdownathercousin’sface,whichstillmovedwiththespeedofwhatshehadbeensaying. “Areyou—happy?”sheasked. “Oh,mydear!”Cassandraexclaimed,asifnofurtherwordswereneeded.“Ofcourse,wedisagreeabouteverysubjectunderthesun,”sheexclaimed,“butIthinkhe’sthecleverestmanI’veevermet—andyou’rethemostbeautifulwoman,”sheadded,lookingatKatharine,andasshelookedherfacelostitsanimationandbecamealmostmelancholyinsympathywithKatharine’smelancholy,whichseemedtoCassandrathelastrefinementofherdistinction. “Ah,butit’sonlyteno’clock,”saidKatharinedarkly. “Aslateasthat!W