In the morning he had a letter from Mrs. Woolstan. Opening it
hurriedly, he was pleased, but not surprised, to discover a cheque
folded in the note-paper. Iris wrote that, as a matter of course,
she wished to pay what was owing to him in respect of his tutorial
engagement so abruptly brought to an end. "Even between friends, one
must be businesslike. You ought to have received a quarter's notice,
and, as it is now nearly the end of April, you must allow me to
reckon my debt as up to the quarterday in September. 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. He was
glad to have the cheque, and knew quite well that he should keep it,
but a certain uneasiness hung about his mind all the morning. Dyce
had his ideal of manly independence; it annoyed him that
circumstances made the noble line of conduct so difficult. He
believed himself strong, virile, yet so often it happened that he
was constrained to act in what seemed rather a feeble and
undignified way. But, after all, it was temporary; the day of his
emancipation from paltry necessities would surely come, and all the
great qualities latent in him would have ample scope.

Plainly, he must do something. He could live for the next few
months, but, after that, had no resources to count upon. Such hopes
as he had tried to connect with the name of Lady Ogram might be the
veriest dream, but for the moment no suggestion offered in any other
quarter. It would be better, perhaps, to write to Connie Bride
before going down to Hollingford. Yes, he would write to Connie.