"I had better mention one thing from the very first," said the young man, quietly. "I have no references. I am afraid the lack of them will be a fatal drawback with most people." "No references!" stammered Mr. Heron, evidently much taken aback. "But--my dear young friend--how do you propose to get a tutor's work without them?" "I don't know," said Stretton, with a smile in which a touch of sternness made itself felt rather than seen. "I don't suppose that I shall get very much work at all. But I hope to earn my bread in one way or another." "I--I--well, I really don't know what to say," remarked Mr. Heron, getting up, and buttoning his yellow gloves reflectively. "I should have no objection. I judge for myself, don't you know, by the face and the manner and all that sort of thing; but it's a different thing when it comes to dealing with women, you know. They are so particular----" "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.