with anything or anybody; liked the place; but, all
the same, he wanted to go, and go he must. I offered him double the
salary--at least, I hinted as much: I knew you would not object, Lizzie
dear, but it was no use. Partly family affairs; partly private reasons:
that was all I could get out of him."

Mr. Heron's long speech left Elizabeth the time to consider what to say.

"It does not matter very much," she answered at length, indifferently:
"we can find someone who will teach the boys quite as well, I have no
doubt."

"Do you think so?" asked Mr. Heron. "Well, perhaps so. But, you see, it
is not always easy to get a tutor at this time of the year, Elizabeth;
and, besides, we shall not find one, perhaps, so ready to read Italian
with you, as Mr. Stretton used to do----"

Oh, those Italian readings! How well she remembered them! How the
interest which Mr. Stretton had from the first inspired in her had grown
and strengthened in the hours that they spent together, with heads bent
over the same page, and hearts throbbing in unison over the lines that
spoke of Dante's Beatrice, or Petrarca's Laura! She shuddered at the
remembrance, now fraught to her with keenest pain.

"I shall not want to read Italian again," she said, rising from the
table. "We had better advertise for a tutor, Uncle Alfred, unless you
think the boys might run wild for a little while, or unless Percival can
find us one."

"Shall you be writing to Percival to-day, my dear?"

"I don't know."

"Because you might mention that Mr. Stretton has left us. I am afraid
that Percival will be glad," said Mr. Heron, with a little laugh; "he
had an unaccountable dislike to poor Stretton."

"Yes, Percival will be glad," said Elizabeth, turning mechanically to
leave the room. At the door she paused. "Mr. Stretton left an address, I
suppose?"

"No, he did not. He said he would write to me when his plans were
settled. And I'm sorry to say he would not take a cheque. I pressed it
upon him, and finally left it on the table for him--where I found it
again this morning. He said that he had no right to it, leaving as
suddenly as he did--some crochet of that kind. I should think that
Stretton could be very Quixotic if he chose."

"When he writes," said Elizabeth, "you will send him the cheque, will
you not, Uncle Alfred? I do not think that he is very well off; and it
seems a pity that he should be in want of money for the sake of--of--a
scruple."

She did no