Emily's Impending Doom (Dramatic Irony)
The structure of The Mysterious Affair at Styles lends itself to a degree of dramatic irony from the very beginning. Hastings establishes his place as a retrospective narrator on the first page, so we, as readers, know that whatever has happened has already happened. Emily being the indisputable target from the very beginning introduces an element of dramatic irony into the circumstances Hastings describes, like tea with Emily and the Cavendishes, and the bazaar. When Emily says that their talk of poisoning is making her feel like "a goose is walking over [her] grave," the foreshadowing is almost too clear—she is about to die; Hastings, as narrator, knows it, and so does the reader. But none of the characters expect it (except, of course, for the murderers).
So Kind (Verbal Irony)
When Hastings tells Mary, rather spitefully, that Dr. Bauerstein had been arrested, Mary says, "John was so kind as to break that to me this morning" (171). Of course, Mary doesn't actually think John was being kind—she is being ironic to express her displeasure in the way Hastings bandies the information so spitefully, and to avoid more explicit language so as not to have to admit openly to her affair.
Evelyn's Appeal to Hastings (Situational Irony)
When Evelyn appeals to Hastings before she leaves, she asks him to watch out for Emily for her. She emphasizes that everyone at Styles is after Emily's money. Later on, when she returns after Emily's death, she explains that she never accepted gifts from Emily because she wanted to stay on a level playing field with her and never owe her anything, like everyone else in Emily's life. The irony of all of this is, of course, that Evelyn's plot to murder Emily and run away with the entirety of her fortune is the ultimate theft, and she was really the most dangerous person to Emily, other than the equal danger posed by Alfred Inglethorp.
Howard and Inglethorp Under One Roof (Situational Irony)
When Eve Howard returns to Styles after Emily's death, Hastings narrates, "It occurred to me very forcibly at that moment that to harbour Miss Howard and Alfred Inglethorp under the same roof, and keep the peace between them, was likely to prove a Herculean task" (78). The irony of this statement, and of the whole performative feud between Eve and Alfred, is that it is just that—a performance. Not only are they not actually rivals, but in the end, it turns out they have been lovers and co-conspirators all along.
