"But only during working-hours," replied young Reynolds. We can hardly
blame Hudson for sending him away--no master wants a pupil around who
sees all over, above and beyond him, and who can do better work than he.
It's confusing, and tends to rob the master of the deification that is
his due.

Reynolds had remained long enough--it was time for him to go.

He went back to Devonshire, and Craunch, the biggest man in Plympton,
took him over to Lord Edgecumbe, the biggest man in Plymouth.

Craunch carried along the portrait of himself that Joshua had made, and
asked milord if he didn't want one just like it. Edgecumbe said he surely
did, and asked Joshua if he painted the picture all alone by himself.

Joshua smiled.

Lord Edgecumbe had a beautiful house, and to have a good picture of
himself, and a few choice old ancestors on the walls, he thought would be
very fine.

Joshua took up his abode in the Edgecumbe mansion, the better to do his
work.

He was a handsome youth, nearly twenty years old, with bright, beaming
eyes, a slight but compact form, and brown curls that came to his
shoulders. His London life had given him a confidence in himself, and in
his manner there was a grace and poise flavored with a becoming
diffidence.