"I am afraid I should not suit Mrs. Heron's requirements," said Stretton, in a very quiet tone.
"It isn't that exactly," said Mr. Heron, hesitating; "and yet—well, of course, you know it isn't the usual thing to be met with the plain statement that you have no references! Not that I might even have thought of asking for them; ten to one that it would ever have occurred to me—but my wife——. Come, you don't mean it literally? You have friends in England, no doubt, but you don't want to apply to them."
"Excuse me, Mr. Heron; I spoke the literal truth. I have no references to give either as to character, attainments, or birth. I have no friends. And I agree with you and Mrs. Heron that I should not be a fit person to teach your boys their Latin accidence—that's all."
"Not so fast, if you please," said Mr. Heron, more impressed by Stretton's tone of cold independence than he would have been by sheaves of testimonials to his abilities; "not so fast, my good fellow. Now, will you do me a favour? Let me think the matter over for half-an-hour, and come to you again. Then we will decide the matter, one way or the other."
"I should prefer to consider the matter decided now," said Stretton.
"Nonsense, my dear sir, you must not be hasty. In half-an-hour I shall see you again," cried the artist, as he turned his back on the young man, and walked off towards the Villa Venturi, swinging his stick jauntily in his hand. Stretton watched him, and bit his lip.
"I was a fool to say that I wanted work," he said to himself, "and perhaps a greater fool to blurt out the fact that I had no respectable references so easily. However, I've done for myself in that quarter. The British dragon, Mrs. Grundy, would never admit a man as tutor to her boys under these mysterious circumstances. All the better, perhaps. I should be looked upon with suspicion, as a man 'under a cloud.' And I should not like that, especially in the case of that beautiful Miss Heron, whose clear eyes seem to rebuke any want of candour or courage by their calm fearlessness of gaze. Well, I shall not meet her under false pretences now, at any rate." And then he gave vent to a short, impatient sigh, and resumed the seat that he had vacated for Mr. Heron's benefit.
He tried to read; but found, to his disgust, that he could not fix his mind on the printed page. He kept wondering what report Mr. Heron was giving to his wife and family of the interview that he had had with the English tutor "without references."
"Perhaps they think that I was civil to the father because I hoped to get something out of them," said Stretton to himself, frowning anxiously at the line of blue sea in the distance. "Perhaps they are accusing me of being a rank impostor. What if they do? What else have I been all my life? What a fool I am!"
In despair he flung aside his book, went up to his bed-room, and began to pack the modest knapsack which contained all his worldly wealth. In half-an-hour—when he had had that five minutes' decisive conversation with Mr. Heron—he would be on his way to Naples.