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Updated: May 13, 2025
I have my hundred and fifty a year from Mrs. Woolstan, and that's quite enough for a bachelor. I shall pick up something else. In any case, I've no right to sponge on you; I've done it too long. If I had had the slightest suspicion " A sense of virtue lit up Dyce's countenance again. Nothing was more agreeable to him than the uttering of generous sentiments.
If you say a word about it, I shall be angry, So no nonsense, please!" The phrase underlined was a quotation from Dyce himself, who often used it, in serio-joking tone, when he had occasion to reprove Mrs. Woolstan for some act or word which jarred with his system.
I got your letter at Alverholme, and came back again sooner than I intended." "Oh! Oh!" panted Mrs. Woolstan, on her highest note, "I shall never forgive myself! Why didn't you telegraph or just do nothing at all, and come when you were ready? Oh! When there wasn't the least hurry."
Iris felt that this was indeed to live the higher life. "By the bye," fell from Lashmar, musingly, "did you ever hear of a Lady Ogram?" "I seem to know the name," answered Mrs. Woolstan, keenly attentive. "Ogram? Yes, of course; I have heard Mrs. Toplady speak of her; but I know nothing more. Who is she? What about her?" A maidservant entered with the tea-tray.
By all means let her send him full particulars in writing, and he would lose no time; the yield of her capital might probably be doubled. Mrs. Woolstan, after all, went no further in that business. She had her own reasons for continuing to think constantly of it, but for the present felt she would prefer not to trouble Mr. Wrybolt.
Woolstan talked of a possible secretaryship under the chief of his department; he imagined himself gifted for diplomacy, lacking only the chance to become a power in statecraft. But when Iris had given herself and her six hundred a year, she soon remarked a decline in her husband's aspiration.
Dyce gave an account of the state of politics at Hollingford, sketching the character of Mr. Robb on the lines suggested by Breakspeare. As she listened, Mrs. Woolstan had much ado to preserve outward calm; she was flushed with delight; words of enthusiasm trembled on her lips. "When will the election be?" she asked in the first pause. "Certainly not this year.
Now he felt no inclination to hazard a call upon Lady Ogram; he would return to London forthwith. "No bad news, I hope?" said his father, when this purpose was announced. "Mrs. Woolstan wants me back sooner than I expected, that's all." His mother's lips curled disdainfully. To be at the beck and call of a Mrs. Woolstan, seemed to her an ignoble thing.
Another possibility occurred to him. What if the writer were indeed Iris Woolstan, and her motive quite disinterested? What if she did not allude to herself at all, but was really pained at the thought of his making an insignificant marriage, when, by waiting a little, he was sure to win a wife suitable to his ambition? Of this, too, Iris might well be capable.
Yes, it was a telegram; he took it from the servant's hand with an exclamation of joy. Leonard informed him that Mrs. Woolstan was staying at Gorleston, near Yarmouth, her address "Sunrise Terrace." He clutched at a railway guide. Too late to get to Yarmouth to-night, but that did not matter. "Sunrise Terrace!" In his sorry state of mind, a name of such good omen brought him infinite comfort.
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