had given a farewell banquet of great splendour at the Grecco,
packed up palettes and paint-boxes, and started for London, where
his friends persuaded him that his talent would be recognised. And
at London he had arrived, travelling by ruinously easy stages, and
breaking the journey at Florence, where he sketched and smoked pipes
innumerable on the Lung Arno; at Venice, where he affected
cigarettes, and indulged in a desperate flirtation with a pretty
black-eyed marchesa; at Monaco, where he gambled; and at Paris,
where he spent his winnings, and foregathered with his friends of
the Quartier Latin.

His empty pockets suggested the immediate necessity for work in a
manner more emphatic than agreeable. His uncle, upon whom he called
at his club, invited him to dinner, lectured him with considerable
eloquence, and practically declined to have any more to do with the
young reprobate, which shook Lightmark's faith in the teaching of
parables.

However, he set to work in the two little rooms beneath the tiles
which he rented in Bloomsbury, and which served him as bedroom and
studio; and for a few weeks he finished sketches by day, and wrote
sonnets for magazines, and frivolous articles for dailies, by night.
And, strange to say, though there were times when success seemed
very hard to grasp, and when he was obliged to forestall
quarter-day, and even to borrow money from Rainham--when that bird
of passage was within reach--he sold sketches from time to time; he
obtained commissions for portraits; and the editors occasionally
read and retained his contributions.

In course of time he moved further west, to the then unfashionable