“They must have been good friends at heart；” she resumed； “because she used to sing his songs。 Ah； how did it go？” and Mrs。 Hilbery； who had a very sweet voice； trolled out a famous lyric of her father’s which had been set to an absurdly and charmingly sentimental air by some early Victorian poser。 “It’s the vitality of them！” she concluded； striking her fist against the table。 “That’s what we haven’t got！ We’re virtuous； we’re earnest； we go to meetings； we pay the poor their wages； but we don’t live as they lived。 As often as not； my father wasn’t in bed three nights out of the seven； but always fresh as paint in the morning。 I hear him now； e singing up the stairs to the nursery； and tossing the loaf for breakfast on his swordstick； and then off we went for a day’s pleasuring—Richmond； Hampton Court； the Surrey Hills。 Why shouldn’t we go； Katharine？ It’s going to be a fine day。” At this moment； just as Mrs。 Hilbery was examining the weather from the window； there was a knock at the door。 99 Night and Day A slight； elderly lady came in； and was saluted by Katharine； with very evident dismay； as “Aunt Celia！” She was dismayed because she guessed why Aunt Celia had e。 It was certainly in order to discuss the case of Cyril and the woman who was not his wife； and owing to her procrastination Mrs。 Hilbery was quite unprepared。 Who could be more unprepared？ Here she was； suggesting that all three of them should go on a jaunt to Blackfriars to inspect the site of Shakespeare’s theater； for the weather was hardly settled enough for the country。 To this proposal Mrs。 Milvain listened with a patient smile； which indicated that for many years she had accepted such eccentricities in her sisterinlaw with bland philosophy。 Katharine took up her position at some distance； standing with her foot on the fender； as though by so doing she could get a better view of the matter。 But； in spite of her aunt’s presence； how unreal the whole question of Cyril and his morality appeared！ The difficulty； it now seemed； was not to break the news gently to Mrs。 Hilbery； but to make her understand it。 How was one to lasso her mind； and tether it to this minute； unimpor tant spot？ A matteroffact statement seemed best。 “I think Aunt Celia has e to talk about Cyril； mother；” she said rather brutally。 “Aunt Celia has discovered that Cyril is married。 He has a wife and children。” “No； he is not married；” Mrs。 Milvain interposed； in low tones； addressing herself to Mrs。 Hilbery。 “He has two children； and another on the way。” Mrs。 Hilbery looked from one to the other in bewilderment。 “We thought it better to wait until it was proved before we told you；” Katharine added。 “But I met Cyril only a fortnight ago at the National Gallery！” Mrs。 Hilbery exclaimed。 “I don’t believe a word of it；” and she tossed her head with a smile on her lips at Mrs。 Milvain； as though she could quite understand her mistake； which was a very natural mistake； in the case of a childless woman； whose husband was something very dull in the Board of Trade。 “I didn’t wish to believe it； Maggie；” said Mrs。 Milvain。 “For a long time I couldn’t believe it。 But now I’ve seen； and I have to believe it。” 100 Virginia Woolf “Katharine；” Mrs。 Hilbery demanded； “does your father know of this？” Katharine nodded。 “Cyril married！” Mrs。 Hilbery repeated。 “And never telling us a word； though we’ve had him in our house since he was a child—noble William’s son！ I can’t believe my ears！” Feeling that the burden of proof was laid upon her； Mrs。 Milvain now proceeded with her story。 She was elderly and fragile； but her childlessness seemed always to impose these painful duties on her； and to revere the family； and to keep it in repair； had now bee the chief object of her life。 She told her story in a low； spasmodic； and somewhat broken voice。 “I have suspected for some time that he was not happy。 There were new lines on his face。 So I went to his rooms； when I knew he was engaged at the poor men’s college。 He lectures there—Roman law； you know； or it may be Greek。 The landlady said Mr。 Alardyce only slept there about once a fortnight now。 He looked so ill； she said。 She had seen him with a young person。 I suspected something directly。 I went to his room； and there was an en velope on the mantelpiece； and a letter with an address in Seton Street； off the Kennington Road。” Mrs。 Hilbery fidgeted rather restlessly； and hummed fragments of her tune； as if to interrupt。 “I went to Seton Street；” Aunt Celia continued firmly。 “A very low place—lodginghouses； you know； with canaries in the window。 Number seven just like all the others。 I rang； I knocked； no one came。 I went down the area。 I am certain I saw some one inside—children—a cradle。 But no reply—no reply。” She sighed； and looked straight in front of her with a glazed expression in her halfveiled blue eyes。 “I stood in the street；” she resumed； “in case I could catch a sight of one of them。 It seemed a very long time。 There were rough men singing in the publichouse round the corner。 At last the door opened； and some one—it must have been the woman herself—came right past me。 There was only the pillarbox between us。” “And what did she look like？” Mrs。 Hilbery demanded。 “One could see how the poor boy had been deluded；” was all that Mrs。 Milvain vouchsafed by way of description。 101 Night and Day “Poor thing！” Mrs。 Hilbery exclaimed。 “Poor Cyril！” Mrs。 Milvain said； laying a slight emphasis upon Cyril。 “But they’ve got nothing to live upon；” Mrs。 Hilbery continued。 “If he’d e to us like a man；” she went on； “and said； ‘I’ve been a fool；’ one would have pitied him； one would have tried to help him。 There’s nothing so disgraceful after all— But he’s been going about all these years； pretending； letting one take it for granted； that he was single。 And the poor