CHAPTER XXXIII

.Shehadbecomesuddenlyseriousandcomposed,mistressinherownhouse.ThegesturewithwhichshedismissedhimhadadignitythatRalphneverforgot.Sheseemedtomakehimfreewithawaveofherhandtoallthatshepossessed.Helefttheroom. TheHilberys’housewastall,possessingmanystoriesandpassageswithcloseddoors,all,oncehehadpassedthedrawing-roomfloor,unknowntoRalph.Hemountedashighashecouldandknockedatthefirstdoorhecameto. “MayIcomein?”heasked. Avoicefromwithinanswered“Yes.” Hewasconsciousofalargewindow,fulloflight,ofabaretable,andofalonglooking-glass.Katharinehadrisen,andwasstandingwithsomewhitepapersinherhand,whichslowlyflutteredtothegroundasshesawhervisitor.Theexplanationwasashortone.Thesoundswereinarticulatenoonecouldhaveunderstoodthemeaningsavethemselves.Asiftheforcesoftheworldwereallatworktotearthemasundertheysat,claspinghands,nearenoughtobetakenevenbythemaliciouseyeofTimehimselfforaunitedcouple,anindivisibleunit. “Don’tmove,don’tgo,”shebeggedofhim,whenhestoopedtogatherthepapersshehadletfall.Buthetooktheminhishandsand,givingherbyasuddenimpulsehisownunfinisheddissertation,withitsmysticalconclusion,theyreadeachother’scompositionsinsilence. KatharinereadhissheetstoanendRalphfollowedherfiguresasfarashismathematicswouldlethim.Theycametotheendoftheirtasksataboutthesamemoment,andsatforatimeinsilence. “ThosewerethepapersyouleftontheseatatKew,”saidRalphatlength.“YoufoldedthemsoquicklythatIcouldn’tseewhattheywere.” Sheblushedverydeeplybutasshedidnotmoveorattempttohideherfaceshehadtheappearanceofsomeonedisarmedofalldefences,orRalphlikenedhertoawildbirdjustsettlingwithwingstremblingtofoldthemselveswithinreachofhishand.Themomentofexposurehadbeenexquisitelypainful—thelightshedstartlinglyvivid.Shehadnowtogetusedtothefactthatsomeonesharedherloneliness.Thebewildermentwashalfshameandhalfthepreludetoprofoundrejoicing.Norwassheunconsciousthatonthesurfacethewholethingmustappearoftheutmostabsurdity.ShelookedtoseewhetherRalphsmiled,butfoundhisgazefixedonherwithsuchgravitythatsheturnedtothebeliefthatshehadcommittednosacrilegebutenrichedherself,perhapsimmeasurably,perhapseternally.Shehardlydaredsteepherselfintheinfinitebliss.Buthisglanceseemedtoaskforsomeassuranceuponanotherpointofvitalinteresttohim.Itbeseechedhermutelytotellhimwhetherwhatshehadreaduponhisconfusedsheethadanymeaningortruthtoher.Shebentherheadoncemoretothepaperssheheld. “Ilikeyourlittledotwiththeflamesroundit,”shesaidmeditatively. Ralphnearlytorethepagefromherhandinshameanddespairwhenhesawheractuallycontemplatingtheidioticsymbolofhismostconfusedandemotionalmoments. Hewasconvincedthatitcouldmeannothingtoanother,althoughsomehowtohimitconveyednotonlyKatharineherselfbutallthosestatesofmindwhichhadclusteredroundhersincehefirstsawherpouringoutteaonaSundayafternoon.Itrepresentedbyitscircumferenceofsmudgessurroundingacentralblotallthatencirclingglowwhichforhimsurrounded,inexplicably,somanyoftheobjectsoflife,softeningtheirsharpoutline,sothathecouldseecertainstreets,books,andsituationswearingahaloalmostperceptibletothephysicaleye.Didshesmile?Didsheputthepaperdownwearily,condemningitnotonlyforitsinadequacybutforitsfalsity?Wasshegoingtoprotestoncemorethatheonlylovedthevisionofher?Butitdidnotoccurtoherthatthisdiagramhadanythingtodowithher.Shesaidsimply,andinthesametoneofreflection: “Yes,theworldlookssomethinglikethattometoo.” Hereceivedherassurancewithprofoundjoy.Quietlyandsteadilythereroseupbehindthewholeaspectoflifethatsoftedgeoffirewhichgaveitsredtinttotheatmosphereandcrowdedthescenewithshadowssodeepanddarkthatonecouldfancypushingfartherintotheirdensityandstillfarther,exploringindefinitely.Whethertherewasanycorrespondencebetweenthetwoprospectsnowopeningbeforethemtheysharedthesamesenseoftheimpendingfuture,vast,mysterious,infinitelystoredwithundevelopedshapeswhicheachwouldunwrapfortheothertobeholdbutforthepresenttheprospectofthefuturewasenoughtofillthemwithsilentadoration.Atanyrate,theirfurtherattemptstocommunicatearticulatelywereinterruptedbyaknockonthedoor,andtheentranceofamaidwho,withaduesenseofmystery,announcedthataladywishedtoseeMissHilbery,butrefusedtoallowhernametobegiven. WhenKatharinerose,withaprofoundsigh,toresumeherduties,Ralphwentwithher,andneitherofthemformulatedanyguess,ontheirwaydownstairs,astowhothisanonymousladymightprovetobe.Perhapsthefantasticnotionthatshewasalittleblackhunchbackprovidedwithasteelknife,whichshewouldplungeintoKatharine’sheart,appearedtoRalphmoreprobablethananother,andhepushedfirstintothedining-roomtoaverttheblow.Thenheexclaimed“Cassandra!”withsuchheartinessatthesightofCassandraOtwaystandingbythedining-roomtablethatsheputherfingertoherlipsandbeggedhimtobequiet. “NobodymustknowI’mhere,”sheexplainedinasepulchralwhisper.“Imissedmytrain.IhavebeenwanderingaboutLondonallday.Icanbearitnolonger.Katharine,whatamItodo?” KatharinepushedforwardachairRalphhastilyfoundwineandpoureditoutforher.Ifnotactuallyfainting,shewasverynearit. “William’supstairs,”saidRalph,assoonassheappearedtoberecovered.“I’llgoandaskhimtocomedowntoyou.”Hisownhappinesshadgivenhimaconfidencethateveryoneelsewasboundtobehappytoo.ButCassandrahadheruncle’scommandsandangertoovividlyinhermindtodareanysuchdefiance.Shebecameagitatedandsaidthatshemustleavethehouseatonce.Shewasnotinaconditiontogo,hadtheyknownwheretosendher.Katharine’scommonsense,whichhadbeeninabeyanceforthepastweekortwo,stillfailedher,andshecouldonlyask,“Butwhere’syourluggage?”inthevaguebeliefthattotakelodgingsdependedentirelyuponasufficiencyofluggage.Cassandra’sreply,“I’velostmyluggage,”innowayhelpedhertoaconclusion. “You’velostyourluggage,”sherepeated.HereyesresteduponRalph,withanexpressionwhichseemedbetterfittedtoaccompanyaprofoundthanksgivingforhisexistenceorsomevowofeternaldevotionthanaquestionaboutluggage.Cassandraperceivedthelook,andsawthatitwasreturnedhereyesfilledwithtears.Shefalteredinwhatshewassaying.ShebeganbravelyagaintodiscussthequestionoflodgingwhenKatharine,whoseemedtohavecommunicatedsilentlywithRalph,andobtainedhispermission,tookherrubyringfromherfingerandgivingittoCassandra,said:“Ibelieveitwillfityouwithoutanyalteration.” ThesewordswouldnothavebeenenoughtoconvinceCassandraofwhatsheverymuchwishedtobelievehadnotRalphtakenthebarehandinhisanddemanded: “Whydon’tyoutellusyou’reglad?”Cassandrawassogladthatthetearsrandownhercheeks.ThecertaintyofKatharine’sengagementnotonlyrelievedherofathousandvaguefearsandself-reproaches,butentirelyquenchedthatspiritofcriticismwhichhadlatelyimpairedherbeliefinKatharine.Heroldfaithcamebacktoher.Sheseemedtobeholdherwiththatcuriousintensitywhichshehadlostasabeingwhowalksjustbeyondoursphere,sothatlifeintheirpresenceisaheightenedprocess,illuminatingnotonlyourselvesbutaconsiderablestretchofthesurroundingworld.Nextmomentshecontrastedherownlotwiththeirsandgavebackthering. “Iwon’ttakethatunlessWilliamgivesitmehimself,”shesaid.“Keepitforme,Katharine.” “Iassureyoueverything’sperfectlyallright,”saidRalph.“LetmetellWilliam—” Hewasabout,inspiteofCassandra’sprotest,toreachthedoor,whenMrs.Hilbery,eitherwarnedbytheparlor-maidorconsciouswithherusualprescienceoftheneedforherintervention,openedthedoorandsmilinglysurveyedthem. “MydearCassandra!”sheexclaimed.“Howdelightfultoseeyoubackagain!Whatacoincidence!”sheobserved,inageneralway.“Williamisupstairs.Thekettleboilsover.Where’sKatharine,Isay?Igotolook,andIfindCassandra!”Sheseemedtohaveprovedsomethingtoherownsatisfaction,althoughnobodyfeltcertainwhatthingpreciselyitwas. “IfindCassandra,”sherepeated. “Shemissedher