At one of the less fashionable colleges, which he selected because
he was enamoured of its picturesque inner quadrangle, and of the
quaint Dutch glass in the chapel windows, Lightmark was popular with
his peers, and, for his first term, in tolerably good odour with the
dons, who decided, on his coming up to matriculate, that he ought to
read for honours. And he did read for honours, after a fashion, for
nearly a scholastic year, after which an unfortunate excursion to
Abingdon, and a boisterous re-entry into the University precincts,
at the latter part of which the junior proctor and his satellites
were painfully conspicuous, ended in his being "sent down" for a
term. Whereupon he decided to travel, a decision prompted as much by
a not unnatural desire to avoid avuncular criticism as by a
constitutional yearning for the sunny South. Besides, one could live
for next to nothing abroad.

During the next few years his proceedings were wrapped in a veil of
mystery which he never entirely threw aside. Rainham, it is true,
saw him occasionally at this time, for, indeed, it was soon after
his first arrival in Paris that Lightmark made his friend's
acquaintance, sealed by their subsequent journey together to Rome.
But Rainham was discreet. Lightmark before long informed his uncle,
with whom he at first communicated through the post on the subject
of dividends, that he was studying Art, to which his uncle had
replied:

"Don't be a d----d fool. Come back and take your degree."

This letter Dick had light-heartedly ignored, and he received his
next cheque from his uncle's solicitors, together with a polite
request that he would keep them informed as to his wanderings, and
an intimation that his uncle found it more convenient to make them
the channel of correspondence for the future.

At Paris it was generally conceded that, for an Englishman, the
delicacy of Lightmark's touch, and the daring of his conception and
execution, were really marvellous; and if only he could draw! But he
was too impatient for the end to spend the necessary time in
perfecting the means.

At Rome he tried his hand at sculpture, and made a few sketches
which his attractive personality rather than their intrinsic merit
enabled him to sell. The _camaraderie_ of the Cafe Grecco welcomed him
with open arms; and he was to be encountered, in the season, at the
most fashionable studio tea-parties and diplomatic dances. Before
long his talent in the direc