The latter had been one day requested to convey a picture to a certain drapery-painter; but as the weather happened to be rainy, he concluded that there would be no harm in delaying its delivery till next morning. At breakfast, Hudson querulously inquired why it had not been taken the evening before, and was informed that the rain had been the cause of the delay. “Well,” he exclaimed, “since you have not obeyed my orders, you must leave my house.” Reynolds pleaded for a brief reprieve, but in vain. He asked to be allowed to write an explanation of the matter, and obtain his father’s advice. But Hudson was inexorable; he adhered sternly to his harsh mandate, and Reynolds, going to an uncle who resided at the Temple, thence wrote to his father that he had been dismissed. The latter took the affair into grave consideration, held a sage consultation with his neighbor, Lord Edgecumbe, and directed the young artist to return home. Retirement to the obscurity of Devonshire might delay the progress, but could not altogether conceal the reality, of the talents which were to establish for their possessor so splendid a reputation. His father’s limited means rendered some effort for independence imperative; and during the next three years he executed several portraits of much merit, particularly one of a boy reading by a reflected light. When viewing these pieces thirty years afterward, he is said to have lamented that he had made so little progress in art; just as Canova did a few months before his death, when gazing mournfully on his marble statue of Esculapius in a villa near Venice. Somewhere about 1745, Reynolds took up his quarters for a while at Plymouth Dock, and employed his time in taking portraits of naval officers and other persons in the vicinity. Most of the likenesses then produced were good; but the example of Hudson had placed him at a disadvantage. His sitters were generally represented with one hand inserted in a waistcoat pocket, and the other stiffly holding a hat. One gentleman did, indeed, request to be drawn with his headpiece on, and his desire was complied with; but――alas for the vanity of human wishes!――when the portrait was sent home, and scrutinized by the capricious individual’s dame, she discovered, with inexpressible horror, that the artist, true to habit, had placed a hat under the arm in addition to that on the head! Among those whose features he now transferred to canvas was Miss Chudleigh, afterward the celebrated Duchess of Kingston, a young lady of surpassing beauty, then on a visit in the neighborhood, and a Captain Hamilton, of the Abercorn family, whose portrait was considered admirable. Besides, he made the acquaintance of the future Lord Keppel, and when that gallant personage was appointed Commodore on the Mediterranean Station, the artist was invited to accompany him in the “Centurion.”