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armchairs were drawn up on either side of the fire； and
each sat in the same slightly crouched position； looking
into the coals； with the expressions of people who have
had their share of experiences and wait； rather passively；
for something to happen。 Mr。 Hilbery now gave all his
attention to a piece of coal which had fallen out of the
grate； and to selecting a favorable position for it among
the lumps that were burning already。 Mrs。 Hilbery watched
him in silence； and the smile changed on her lips as if
her mind still played with the events of the afternoon。
80
Virginia Woolf
When Mr。 Hilbery had acplished his task； he resumed
his crouching position again； and began to toy with the
little green stone attached to his watchchain。 His deep；
ovalshaped eyes were fixed upon the flames； but behind
the superficial glaze seemed to brood an observant and
whimsical spirit； which kept the brown of the eye still
unusually vivid。 But a look of indolence； the result of
skepticism or of a taste too fastidious to be satisfied by
the prizes and conclusions so easily within his grasp；
lent him an expression almost of melancholy。 After sitting
thus for a time； he seemed to reach some point in
his thinking which demonstrated its futility； upon which
he sighed and stretched his hand for a book lying on the
table by his side。
Directly the door opened he closed the book； and the
eyes of father and mother both rested on Katharine as
she came towards them。 The sight seemed at once to
give them a motive which they had not had before。 To
them she appeared； as she walked towards them in her
light evening dress； extremely young； and the sight of
her refreshed them； were it only because her youth and
ignorance made their knowledge of the world of some
value。
“The only excuse for you； Katharine； is that dinner is
still later than you are；” said Mr。 Hilbery； putting down
his spectacles。
“I don’t mind her being late when the result is so charming；”
said Mrs。 Hilbery； looking with pride at her daughter。
“Still； I don’t know that I like your being out so late；
Katharine；” she continued。 “You took a cab； I hope？”
Here dinner was announced； and Mr。 Hilbery formally
led his wife downstairs on his arm。 They were all dressed
for dinner； and； indeed； the prettiness of the dinnertable
merited that pliment。 There was no cloth upon the
table； and the china made regular circles of deep blue
upon the shining brown wood。 In the middle there was a
bowl of tawny red and yellow chrysanthemums； and one
of pure white； so fresh that the narrow petals were curved
backwards into a firm white ball。 From the surrounding
walls the heads of three famous Victorian writers surveyed
this entertainment； and slips of paper pasted beneath
them testified in the great man’s own handwriting
81
Night and Day
that he was yours sincerely or affectionately or for ever。
The father and daughter would have been quite content；
apparently； to eat their dinner in silence； or with a few
cryptic remarks expressed in a shorthand which could not
be understood by the servants。 But silence depressed Mrs。
Hilbery； and far from minding the presence of maids； she
would often address herself to them； and was never altogether
unconscious of their approval or disapproval of
her remarks。 In the first place she called them to witness
that the room was darker than usual； and had all the
lights turned on。
“That’s more cheerful；” she exclaimed。 “D’you know；
Katharine； that ridiculous goose came to tea with me？
Oh； how I wanted you！ He tried to make epigrams all the
time； and I got so nervous； expecting them； you know；
that I spilt the tea—and he made an epigram about that！”
“Which ridiculous goose？” Katharine asked her father。
“Only one of my geese； happily； makes epigrams—
Augustus Pelham； of course；” said Mrs。 Hilbery。
“I’m not sorry that I was out；” said Katharine。
“Poor Augustus！” Mrs。 Hilbery exclaimed。 “But we’re all
too hard on him。 Remember how devoted he is to his
tiresome old mother。”
“That’s only because she is his mother。 Any one connected
with himself—”
“No； no； Katharine—that’s too bad。 That’s—what’s the
word I mean； Trevor； something long and Latin—the sort
of word you and Katharine know—”
Mr。 Hilbery suggested “cynical。”
“Well； that’ll do。 I don’t believe in sending girls to college；
but I should teach them that sort of thing。 It makes
one feel so dignified； bringing out these little allusions；
and passing on gracefully to the next topic。 But I don’t
know what’s e over me—I actually had to ask Augustus
the name of the lady Hamlet was in love with； as you
were out； Katharine； and Heaven knows what he mayn’t
put down about me in his diary。”
“I wish；” Katharine started； with great impetuosity； and
checked herself。 Her mother always stirred her to feel
and think quickly； and then she remembered that her father
was there； listening with attention。
“What is it you wish？” he asked； as she paused。
82
Virginia Woolf
He often surprised her； thus； into telling him what she
had not meant to tell him； and then they argued； while
Mrs。 Hilbery went on with her own thoughts。
“I wish mother wasn’t famous。 I was out at tea； and
they would talk to me about poetry。”
“Thinking you must be poetical； I see—and aren’t you？”
“Who’s been talking to you about poetry； Katharine？”
Mrs。 Hilbery demanded； and Katharine was mitted to
giving her parents an account of her visit to the Suffrage
office。
“They have an office at the top of one of the old houses
in Russell Square。 I never saw such queerlooking people。
And the man discovered I was related to the poet； and
talked to me about poetry。 Even Mary Datchet seems different
in that atmosphere。”
“Yes； the office atmosphere is very bad for the soul；”
said Mr。 Hilbery。
“I don’t remember any offices in Russell Square in the
old days； when Mamma lived there；” Mrs。 Hilbery mused；
“and I can’t fancy turnin