85 Night and Day became less and less possible to do； for though Mrs。 Hilbery was constantly reverting to the story； it was always in this tentative and restless fashion； as though by a touch here and there she could set things straight which had been crooked these sixty years。 Perhaps； indeed； she no longer knew what the truth was。 “If they’d lived now；” she concluded； “I feel it wouldn’t have happened。 People aren’t so set upon tragedy as they were then。 If my father had been able to go round the world； or if she’d had a rest cure； everything would have e right。 But what could I do？ And then they had bad friends； both of them； who made mischief。 Ah； Katharine； when you marry； be quite； quite sure that you love your husband！” The tears stood in Mrs。 Hilbery’s eyes。 While forting her； Katharine thought to herself； “Now this is what Mary Datchet and Mr。 Denham don’t understand。 This is the sort of position I’m always getting into。 How simple it must be to live as they do！” for all the evening she had been paring her home and her father and mother with the Suffrage office and the people there。 “But； Katharine；” Mrs。 Hilbery continued； with one of her sudden changes of mood； “though； Heaven knows； I don’t want to see you married； surely if ever a man loved a woman； William loves you。 And it’s a nice； richsounding name too—Katharine Rodney； which； unfortunately； doesn’t mean that he’s got any money； because he hasn’t。” The alteration of her name annoyed Katharine； and she observed； rather sharply； that she didn’t want to marry any one。 “It’s very dull that you can only marry one husband； certainly；” Mrs。 Hilbery reflected。 “I always wish that you could marry everybody who wants to marry you。 Perhaps they’ll e to that in time； but meanwhile I confess that dear William—” But here Mr。 Hilbery came in； and the more solid part of the evening began。 This consisted in the reading aloud by Katharine from some prose work or other； while her mother knitted scarves intermittently on a little circular frame； and her father read the newspaper； not so attentively but that he could ment humorously now and again upon the fortunes of the hero and the heroine。 The Hilberys subscribed to a library； which 86 Virginia Woolf delivered books on Tuesdays and Fridays； and Katharine did her best to interest her parents in the works of living and highly respectable authors； but Mrs。 Hilbery was perturbed by the very look of the light； goldwreathed volumes； and would make little faces as if she tasted something bitter as the reading went on； while Mr。 Hilbery would treat the moderns with a curious elaborate banter such as one might apply to the antics of a promising child。 So this evening； after five pages or so of one of these masters； Mrs。 Hilbery protested that it was all too clever and cheap and nasty for words。 “Please； Katharine； read us something real。” Katharine had to go to the bookcase and choose a portly volume in sleek； yellow calf； which had directly a sedative effect upon both her parents。 But the delivery of the evening post broke in upon the periods of Henry Fielding； and Katharine found that her letters needed all her attention。 CHAPTER VIII She took her letters up to her room with her； having persuaded her mother to go to bed directly Mr。 Hilbery left them； for so long as she sat in the same room as her mother； Mrs。 Hilbery might； at any moment； ask for a sight of the post。 A very hasty glance through many sheets had shown Katharine that； by some coincidence； her attention had to be directed to many different anxieties simultaneously。 In the first place； Rodney had written a very full account of his state of mind； which was illustrated by a son； and he demanded a reconsideration of their position； which agitated Katharine more than she liked。 Then there were two letters which had to be laid side by side and pared before she could make out the truth of their story； and even when she knew the facts she could not decide what to make of them； and finally she had to reflect upon a great many pages from a cousin who found himself in financial difficulties； which forced him to the uncongenial occupation of teaching the young ladies of Bungay to play upon the violin。 87 Night and Day But the two letters which each told the same story differently were the chief source of her perplexity。 She was really rather shocked to find it definitely established that her own second cousin； Cyril Alardyce； had lived for the last four years with a woman who was not his wife； who had borne him two children； and was now about to bear him another。 This state of things had been discovered by Mrs。 Milvain； her aunt Celia； a zealous inquirer into such matters； whose letter was also under consideration。 Cyril； she said； must be made to marry the woman at once； and Cyril； rightly or wrongly； was indignant with such interference with his affairs； and would not own that he had any cause to be ashamed of himself。 Had he any cause to be ashamed of himself； Katharine wondered； and she turned to her aunt again。 “Remember；” she wrote； in her profuse； emphatic statement； “that he bears your grandfather’s name； and so will the child that is to be born。 The poor boy is not so much to blame as the woman who deluded him； thinking him a gentleman； which he is； and having money； which he has not。” “What would Ralph Denham say to this？” thought Katharine； beginning to pace up and down her bedroom。 She twitched aside the curtains； so that； on turning； she was faced by darkness； and looking out； could just distinguish the branches of a plaree and the yellow lights of some one else’s windows。 “What would Mary Datchet and Ralph Denham say？” she reflected； pausing by the window； which； as the night was warm； she raised； in order to feel the air upon her face； and to lose herself in the nothingness of night。 But with the air the distant humming sound of faroff