CHAPTER XXX

Thedaywassodifferentfromotherdaystothreepeopleinthehousethatthecommonroutineofhouseholdlife—themaidwaitingattable,Mrs.Hilberywritingaletter,theclockstriking,andthedooropening,andalltheothersignsoflong-establishedcivilizationappearedsuddenlytohavenomeaningsaveastheylulledMr.andMrs.Hilberyintothebeliefthatnothingunusualhadtakenplace.ItchancedthatMrs.Hilberywasdepressedwithoutvisiblecause,unlessacertaincrudenessverginguponcoarsenessinthetemperofherfavoriteElizabethanscouldbeheldresponsibleforthemood.Atanyrate,shehadshutup“TheDuchessofMalfi”withasigh,andwishedtoknow,soshetoldRodneyatdinner,whethertherewasn’tsomeyoungwriterwithatouchofthegreatspirit—somebodywhomadeyoubelievethatlifewasbeautiful?ShegotlittlehelpfromRodney,andaftersingingherplaintiverequiemforthedeathofpoetrybyherself,shecharmedherselfintogoodspiritsagainbyrememberingtheexistenceofMozart.ShebeggedCassandratoplaytoher,andwhentheywentupstairsCassandraopenedthepianodirectly,anddidherbesttocreateanatmosphereofunmixedbeauty.AtthesoundofthefirstnotesKatharineandRodneybothfeltanenormoussenseofreliefatthelicensewhichthemusicgavethemtoloosentheirholduponthemechanismofbehavior.Theylapsedintothedepthsofthought.Mrs.Hilberywassoonspiritedawayintoaperfectlycongenialmood,thatwashalfreverieandhalfslumber,halfdeliciousmelancholyandhalfpurebliss.Mr.Hilberyaloneattended.Hewasextremelymusical,andmadeCassandraawarethathelistenedtoeverynote.Sheplayedherbest,andwonhisapproval.Leaningslightlyforwardinhischair,andturninghislittlegreenstone,heweighedtheintentionofherphrasesapprovingly,butstoppedhersuddenlytocomplainofanoisebehindhim.Thewindowwasunhasped.HesignedtoRodney,whocrossedtheroomimmediatelytoputthematterright.Hestayedamomentlongerbythewindowthanwas,perhaps,necessary,andhavingdonewhatwasneeded,drewhischairalittlecloserthanbeforetoKatharine’sside.Themusicwenton.Undercoverofsomeexquisiterunofmelody,heleanttowardsherandwhisperedsomething.Sheglancedatherfatherandmother,andamomentlaterlefttheroom,almostunobserved,withRodney. “Whatisit?”sheasked,assoonasthedoorwasshut. Rodneymadenoanswer,butledherdownstairsintothedining-roomonthegroundfloor.Evenwhenhehadshutthedoorhesaidnothing,butwentstraighttothewindowandpartedthecurtains.HebeckonedtoKatharine. “Thereheisagain,”hesaid.“Look,there—underthelamp-post.” Katharinelooked.ShehadnoideawhatRodneywastalkingabout.Avaguefeelingofalarmandmysterypossessedher.Shesawamanstandingontheoppositesideoftheroadfacingthehousebeneathalamp-post.Astheylookedthefigureturned,walkedafewsteps,andcamebackagaintohisoldposition.Itseemedtoherthathewaslookingfixedlyather,andwasconsciousofhergazeonhim.Sheknew,inaflash,whothemanwaswhowaswatchingthem.Shedrewthecurtainabruptly. “Denham,”saidRodney.“Hewastherelastnighttoo.”Hespokesternly.Hiswholemannerhadbecomefullofauthority.Katharinefeltalmostasifheaccusedherofsomecrime.Shewaspaleanduncomfortablyagitated,asmuchbythestrangenessofRodney’sbehaviorasbythesightofRalphDenham. “Ifhechoosestocome—”shesaiddefiantly. “Youcan’tlethimwaitoutthere.Ishalltellhimtocomein.”RodneyspokewithsuchdecisionthatwhenheraisedhisarmKatharineexpectedhimtodrawthecurtaininstantly.Shecaughthishandwithalittleexclamation. “Wait!”shecried.“Idon’tallowyou.” “Youcan’twait,”hereplied.“You’vegonetoofar.”Hishandremaineduponthecurtain.“Whydon’tyouadmit,Katharine,”hebrokeout,lookingath