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Mr。 Denham had recovered his selfcontrol； he spoke
with a quietness which made Katharine rather anxious
that he should explain himself； but at the same time she
wished to annoy him； to waft him away from her on some
light current of ridicule or satire； as she was wont to do
with these intermittent young men of her father’s。
“Nobody ever does do anything worth doing nowadays；”
she remarked。 “You see”—she tapped the volume of her
grandfather’s poems—”we don’t even print as well as they
did； and as for poets or painters or novelists—there are
none； so； at any rate； I’m not singular。”
“No； we haven’t any great men；” Denham replied。 “I’m
very glad that we haven’t。 I hate great men。 The worship
of greatness in the nieenth century seems to me to
explain the worthlessness of that generation。”
Katharine opened her lips and drew in her breath； as if
to reply with equal vigor； when the shutting of a door in
the next room withdrew her attention； and they both
became conscious that the voices； which had been rising
and falling round the teatable； had fallen silent； the
light； even； seemed to have sunk lower。 A moment later
Mrs。 Hilbery appeared in the doorway of the anteroom。
She stood looking at them with a smile of expectancy on
her face； as if a scene from the drama of the younger
generation were being played for her benefit。 She was a
remarkablelooking woman； well advanced in the sixties；
but owing to the lightness of her frame and the brightness
of her eyes she seemed to have been wafted over
the surface of the years without taking much harm in the
passage。 Her face was shrunken and aquiline； but any
13
Night and Day
hint of sharpness was dispelled by the large blue eyes； at
once sagacious and innocent； which seemed to regard
the world with an enormous desire that it should behave
itself nobly； and an entire confidence that it could do so；
if it would only take the pains。
Certain lines on the broad forehead and about the lips
might be taken to suggest that she had known moments
of some difficulty and perplexity in the course of her
career； but these had not destroyed her trustfulness； and
she was clearly still prepared to give every one any number
of fresh chances and the whole system the benefit of
the doubt。 She wore a great resemblance to her father；
and suggested； as he did； the fresh airs and open spaces
of a younger world。
“Well；” she said； “how do you like our things； Mr。
Denham？”
Mr。 Denham rose； put his book down； opened his
mouth； but said nothing； as Katharine observed； with
some amusement。
Mrs。 Hilbery handled the book he had laid down。
“There are some books that live；” she mused。 “They are
young with us； and they grow old with us。 Are you fond
of poetry； Mr。 Denham？ But what an absurd question to
ask！ The truth is； dear Mr。 Fortescue has almost tired me
out。 He is so eloquent and so witty； so searching and so
profound that； after half an hour or so； I feel inclined to
turn out all the lights。 But perhaps he’d be more wonderful
than ever in the dark。 What d’you think； Katharine？
Shall we give a little party in plete darkness？ There’d
have to be bright rooms for the bores… 。”
Here Mr。 Denham held out his hand。
“But we’ve any number of things to show you！” Mrs。
Hilbery exclaimed； taking no notice of it。 “Books； pictures；
china； manuscripts； and the very chair that Mary
Queen of Scots sat in when she heard of Darnley’s murder。
I must lie down for a little； and Katharine must change
her dress （though she’s wearing a very pretty one）； but if
you don’t mind being left alone； supper will be at eight。
I dare say you’ll write a poem of your own while you’re
waiting。 Ah； how I love the firelight！ Doesn’t our room
look charming？”
She stepped back and bade them contemplate the empty
14
Virginia Woolf
drawingroom； with its rich； irregular lights； as the flames
leapt and wavered。
“Dear things！” she exclaimed。 “Dear chairs and tables！
How like old friends they are—faithful； silent friends。
Which reminds me； Katharine； little Mr。 Anning is ing
tonight； and Tite Street； and Cadogan Square… 。 Do
remember to get that drawing of your greatuncle glazed。
Aunt Millicent remarked it last time she was here； and I
know how it would hurt me to see MY father in a broken
glass。”
It was like tearing through a maze of diamondglittering
spiders’ webs to say goodbye and escape； for at each
movement Mrs。 Hilbery remembered something further
about the villainies of pictureframers or the delights of
poetry； and at one time it seemed to the young man that
he would be hypnotized into doing what she pretended
to want him to do； for he could not suppose that she
attached any value whatever to his presence。 Katharine；
however； made an opportunity for him to leave； and for
that he was grateful to her； as one young person is grateful
for the understanding of another。
CHAPTER II
The young man shut the door with a sharper slam than
any visitor had used that afternoon； and walked up the
street at a great pace； cutting the air with his walkingstick。
He was glad to find himself outside that drawing
room； breathing raw fog； and in contact with unpolished
people who only wanted their share of the pavement allowed
them。 He thought that if he had had Mr。 or Mrs。 or
Miss Hilbery out here he would have made them； somehow；
feel his superiority； for he was chafed by the memory
of halting awkward sentences which had failed to give
even the young woman with the sad； but inwardly ironical
eyes a hint of his force。 He tried to recall the actual
words of his little outburst； and unconsciously supplemented
them by so many words of greater expressiveness
that the irritation of his failure was somewhat assuaged。
Sudden stabs of the unmitigated truth assailed him now
and then； for he was not inclined by nature to take a rosy
view of his conduct； but what with the beat of his foot
upon the pavement； and the glimpse which halfdrawn
15
Night