point of asking Ralph to tell her what she might expect；
when he jerked open one of the infinite number of identical
wooden doors； and led her up a tiled path to a porch
in the Alpine style of architecture。 As they listened to
the shaking of the bell in the basement； she could summon
no vision to replace the one so rudely destroyed。
“I must warn you to expect a family party；” said Ralph。
“They’re mostly in on Sundays。 We can go to my room
afterwards。”
“Have you many brothers and sisters？” she asked； without
concealing her dismay。
“Six or seven；” he replied grimly； as the door opened。
While Ralph took off his coat； she had time to notice
the ferns and photographs and draperies； and to hear a
hum； or rather a babble； of voices talking each other
down； from the sound of them。 The rigidity of extreme
shyness came over her。 She kept as far behind Denham as
she could； and walked stiffly after him into a room blazing
with unshaded lights； which fell upon a number of
people； of different ages； sitting round a large dining
room table untidily strewn with food； and unflinchingly
lit up by incandescent gas。 Ralph walked straight to the
far end of the table。
“Mother； this is Miss Hilbery；” he said。
A large elderly lady； bent over an unsatisfactory spirit
324
Virginia Woolf
lamp； looked up with a little frown； and observed：
“I beg your pardon。 I thought you were one of my own
girls。 Dorothy；” she continued on the same breath； to
catch the servant before she left the room； “we shall
want some more methylated spirits—unless the lamp itself
is out of order。 If one of you could invent a good
spiritlamp—” she sighed； looking generally down the
table； and then began seeking among the china before
her for two clean cups for the newers。
The unsparing light revealed more ugliness than
Katharine had seen in one room for a very long time。 It
was the ugliness of enormous folds of brown material；
looped and festooned； of plush curtains； from which depended
balls and fringes； partially concealing bookshelves
swollen with black schooltexts。 Her eye was arrested by
crossed scabbards of fretted wood upon the dull green
wall； and whereever there was a high flat eminence； some
fern waved from a pot of crinkled china； or a bronze horse
reared so high that the stump of a tree had to sustain his
forequarters。 The waters of family life seemed to rise and
close over her head； and she munched in silence。
At length Mrs。 Denham looked up from her teacups and
remarked：
“You see； Miss Hilbery； my children all e in at different
hours and want different things。 （The tray should
go up if you’ve done； Johnnie。） My boy Charles is in bed
with a cold。 What else can you expect？—standing in the
wet playing football。 We did try drawingroom tea； but it
didn’t do。”
A boy of sixteen； who appeared to be Johnnie； grumbled
derisively both at the notion of drawingroom tea and at
the necessity of carrying a tray up to his brother。 But he
took himself off； being enjoined by his mother to mind
what he was doing； and shut the door after him。
“It’s much nicer like this；” said Katharine； applying herself
with determination to the dissection of her cake；
they had given her too large a slice。 She knew that Mrs。
Denham suspected her of critical parisons。 She knew
that she was making poor progress with her cake。 Mrs。
Denham had looked at her sufficiently often to make it
clear to Katharine that she was asking who this young
woman was； and why Ralph had brought her to tea with
325
Night and Day
them。 There was an obvious reason； which Mrs。 Denham
had probably reached by this time。 Outwardly； she was
behaving with rather rusty and laborious civility。 She was
making conversation about the amenities of Highgate；
its development and situation。
“When I first married；” she said； “Highgate was quite
separate from London； Miss Hilbery； and this house；
though you wouldn’t believe it； had a view of apple orchards。
That was before the Middletons built their house
in front of us。”
“It must be a great advantage to live at the top of a
hill；” said Katharine。 Mrs。 Denham agreed effusively； as if
her opinion of Katharine’s sense had risen。
“Yes； indeed； we find it very healthy；” she said； and she
went on； as people who live in the suburbs so often do；
to prove that it was healthier； more convenient； and less
spoilt than any suburb round London。 She spoke with
such emphasis that it was quite obvious that she expressed
unpopular views； and that her children disagreed
with her。
“The ceiling’s fallen down in the pantry again；” said
Hester； a girl of eighteen； abruptly。
“The whole house will be down one of these days；”
James muttered。
“Nonsense；” said Mrs。 Denham。 “It’s only a little bit of
plaster—I don’t see how any house could be expected to
stand the wear and tear you give it。” Here some family
joke exploded； which Katharine could not follow。 Even
Mrs。 Denham laughed against her will。
“Miss Hilbery’s thinking us all so rude；” she added reprovingly。
Miss Hilbery smiled and shook her head； and
was conscious that a great many eyes rested upon her；
for a moment； as if they would find pleasure in discussing
her when she was gone。 Owing； perhaps； to this critical
glance； Katharine decided that Ralph Denham’s family
was monplace； unshapely； lacking in charm； and
fitly expressed by the hideous nature of their furniture
and decorations。 She glanced along a mantelpiece ranged
with bronze chariots； silver vases； and china ornaments
that were either facetious or eccentric。
She did not apply her judgment consciously to Ralph；
but when she looked at him； a moment later； she rated
326
Virginia Woolf
him lower than at any other time of their acquaintanceship。
He had made no effort to tide over the disforts of
her introduction； and now； engaged in argument with his
brother； apparently forgot her presence。 She must have
counted upon his support more than she realized； for
this indifference； emphasized； as it was； by the insignificant
monplace of his surroundings； awoke her； not
only to that ugliness； but to her own folly。 She thought
of one scene after another in a few seconds； with that
shudder which is almost a blush。 She had believed him
when he spoke of friendship。 She had believed in a spiritual
light burning steadily and steadfastly behind the
erratic disorder and incoherence of life。 The light was
now gone out； suddenly； as if a sponge had blotted it。
The litter of the table and the tedious but exacting conversation
of Mrs。 Denham remained： they struck； indeed；
upon a mind bereft of all defences； and； keenly conscious
of the degradation which is the result of strife whether
victorious or not； she thought gloomily of her loneliness；
of life’s futility； of the barren prose of reality； of William
Rodney； of her mother； and the unfinished book。
Her answers to Mrs。 Denham were perfunctory to the
verge of rudeness； and to Ralph； who watched her narrowly；
she seemed further away than was patible with
her physical closeness。 He glanced at her； and ground out
further steps in his argument； determined that no folly
should remain when this experience was over。 Next moment；
a silence； sudden and plete； descended upon
them all。 The silence of all these people round the untidy
table was enormous and hideous； something horrible
seemed about to burst from it； but they endured it obstinately。
A second later the door opened and there was a
stir of relief； cries of “Hullo； Joan！ There’s nothing left
for you to eat；” broke up the oppressive concentration of
so many eyes upon the tablecloth； and set the waters of
family life dashing in brisk little waves again。 It was
obvious that Joan had some mysterious and beneficent
power upon her family。 She went up to Katharine as if
she had heard of her； and was very glad to see her at last。
She explained that she had been visiting an uncle who
was ill； and that had kept her。 No； she hadn’t had any
327
Night and Day
tea； but a slice of bread would do。 Some one handed up a
hot cake； which had been keeping warm in the fender；
she sat down by her mother’s side； Mrs。 Denham’s anxieties
seemed to relax； and every one began eating and
drinking； as if tea had begun over again。 Hester voluntarily
explained to Katharine that she was reading to pass
some examination； because she wanted more than anything
in the whole world to go to Newnham。
“Now； just let me hear you decline ‘amo’—I love；”
Johnnie demanded。
“No； Johnnie； no Greek at mealtimes；” said Joan； overhearing
him instantly。 “She’s up at all hours of the night
over her books； Miss Hilbery； and I’m sure that’s not the
way to pass examinations；” she went on； smiling at
Katharine； with the worried humorous smile of the elder
sister whose younger brothers and sisters have bee
almost like children of her own。
“Joan； you don’t really think that ‘amo’ is Gree