But was I sufficiently skilful as an artist to obtain my livelihood in a strange land, without friends and without recommendation?
No; I must wait a little; I must labour hard to improve my talent, and to produce something worth while as a specimen of my powers, something to speak favourably for me, whether as an actual painter or a teacher.

Brilliant success, of course, I did not look for, but some degree of security from positive failure was indispensable: I must not take my son to starve.

And then I must have money for the journey, the passage, and some little to support us in our retreat in case I should be unsuccessful at first: and not too little either: for who could tell how long I might have to struggle with the indifference or neglect of others, or my own inexperience or inability to suit their tastes?
What should I do then?
Apply to my brother and explain my circumstances and my resolves to him?
No, no: even if I told him all my grievances, which I should be very reluctant to do, he would be certain to disapprove of the step: it would seem like madness to him, as it would to my uncle and aunt, or to Milicent.

No; I must have patience and gather a hoard of my own.

Rachel should be my only confidante--I thought I could persuade her into the scheme; and she should help me, first, to find out a picture-dealer in some distant town; then, through her means, I would privately sell what pictures I had on hand that would do for such a purpose, and some of those I should thereafter paint.