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really had a disinterested appearance； and captivated my
Guardian； if not； for the moment； Ada too。
“You are welcome to love him as much as you like；” returned
Mr Jarndyce； “but we must save his pocket； Harold。”
“Oh！” said Mr Skimpole。 “His pocket？ Now； you are coming to
what I don’t understand。” Taking a little more claret； and dipping
one of the cakes in it； he shook his head and smiled at Ada and me
with an ingenuous foreboding that he never could be made to
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understand。”
“If you go with him here or there；” said my Guardian； plainly；
“you must not let him pay for both。”
“My dear Jarndyce；” returned Mr Skimpole； his genial face
irradiated by the comicality of this idea； “what am I to do？ If he
takes me anywhere； I must go。 And how can I pay？ I never have
any money。 If I had any money； I don’t know anything about it。
Suppose I say to a man； how much？ Suppose the man says to me
seven and sixpence？ I know nothing about seven and sixpence。 It
is impossible for me to pursue the subject； with any consideration
for the man。 I don’t go about asking busy people what seven and
sixpence is in Moorish—which I don’t understand。 Why should I
go about asking them what seven and sixpence is in Money—
which I don’t understand？”
“Well；” said my Guardian； by no means displeased with this
artless reply； “if you come to any kind of journeying with Rick； you
must borrow the money of me （never breathing the least allusion
to that circumstance）； and leave the calculation to him。”
“My dear Jarndyce；” returned Mr Skimpole； “I will do anything
to give you pleasure； but it seems an idle form—a superstition。
Besides； I give you my word； Miss Clare and my dear Miss
Summerson； I thought Mr Carstone was immensely rich。 I thought
he had only to make over something； or to sign a bond； or a draft
or a cheque； or a bill； or to put something on a file somewhere； to
bring down a shower of money。”
“Indeed it is not so； sir；” said Ada。 “He is poor。”
“No； really？” returned Mr Skimpole； with his bright smile； “you
surprise me。”
“And not being the richer for trusting in a rotten reed；” said my
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Guardian； laying his hand emphatically on the sleeve of Mr
Skimpole’s dressing…gown； “be you very careful not to encourage
him in that reliance； Harold。”
“My dear good friend；” returned Mr Skimpole； “and my dear
Miss Summerson； and my dear Miss Clare； how can I do that？ It’s
business； and I don’t know business。 It is he who encourages me。
He emerges from great feats of business； presents the brightest
prospects before me as their result； and calls upon me to admire
them。 I do admire them—as bright prospects。 But I know no more
about them； and I tell him so。”
The helpless kind of candour with which he presented this
before us； the light…hearted manner in which he was amused by
his innocence； the fantastic way in which he took himself under
his own protection and argued about that curious person；
combined with the delightful ease of everything he said exactly to
make out my Guardian’s case。 The more I saw of him； the more
unlikely it seemed to me； when he was present； that he could
design； conceal； or influence anything； and yet the less likely that
appeared when he was not present； and the less agreeable it was
to think of his having anything to do with anyone for whom I
cared。
Hearing that his examination （as he called it） was now over； Mr
Skimpole left the room with a radiant face to fetch his daughters
（his sons had run away at various times）； leaving my Guardian
quite delighted by the manner in which he had vindicated his
childish character。 He soon came back； bringing with him the
three young ladies and Mrs Skimpole； who had once been a
beauty； but was now a delicate high…nosed invalid； suffering under
a complication of disorders。
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“This；” said Mr Skimpole； “is my Beauty daughter； Arethusa—
plays and sings odds and ends like her father。 This is my
Sentiment daughter； Laura—plays a little but don’t sing。 This is
my Comedy daughter； Kitty—sings a little but don’t play。 We all
draw a little； and compose a little； and none of us have any idea of
time or money。”
Mrs Skimpole sighed； I thought； as if she would have been glad
to strike out this item in the family attainments。 I also thought that
she rather impressed her sigh upon my Guardian； and that she
took every opportunity of throwing in another。
“It is pleasant；” said Mr Skimpole； turning his sprightly eyes
from one to the other of us； “and it is whimsically interesting； to
trace peculiarities in families。 In this family we are all children；
and I am the youngest。”
The daughters； who appeared to be very fond of him； were
amused by this droll fact； particularly the Comedy daughter。
“My dears； it is true；” said Mr Skimpole； “is it not？ So it is； and
so it must be； because； like the dogs in the hymn； ‘it is our nature
to。’ Now； here is Miss Summerson with a fine administrative
capacity； and a knowledge of details perfectly surprising。 It will
sound very strange in Miss Summerson’s ears； I dare say； that we
know nothing about chops in this house。 But we don’t； not the
least。 We can’t cook anything whatever。 A needle and thread we
don’t know how to use。 We admire the people who possess the
practical wisdom we want； but we don’t quarrel with them。 Then
why should they quarrel with us？ Live； and let live； we say to
them。 Live upon your practical wisdom； and let us live upon you！”
He laughed； but； as usual； seemed quite candid； and really to
mean what he said。
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“We have sympathy； my roses；” said Mr Skimpole； “sympathy
for everything。 Have we not？”
“O yes； papa；” cried the three daughters。
“In fact； that is our family department；” said Mr Skimpole； “in
this hurly…burly of life。 We are capable of looking on and of being
interested； and we do look on； and we are interested。 What more
can we do！ Here is my Beauty daughter； married these three
years。 Now； I dare say her marrying another child； and having two
more； was all wrong in point of political economy： but it was very
agreeable。