the whole he was tired of his tutorial duties, and not for a moment
would regret the parting.

"I'm sorry," he said, in a moved voice. "I hoped to make a man of
him, after my own idea. Well, well, we shall often see each other
again, and who knows whether I mayn't be of use to him some day."

"What a fine sensibility he has, together with his great
intelligence!" was Iris Woolstan's comment in her own heart. And she
reproached herself for not having stood out against Wrybolt.

As he walked away from the house, Dyce wondered why he had told that
lie about the friend at Alverholme. Would it not have been better,
from every point of view, to speak plainly of Connie Bride? Where
was the harm? He recognised in himself a tortuous tendency, not to
be overcome by reflection and moral or utilitarian resolve. He could
not, much as he desired it, be an entirely honest man. His ideal was
honesty, even as he had a strong prejudice in favour of personal
cleanliness. But occasionally he shirked the cold tub; and, in the
same way, he found it difficult at times to tell the truth.





CHAPTER IV