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recall the scene。 First； I was not quite unconscious of the contrast；
in respect of meaning and intention； between the silent look
directed that way； and the flow of words that had preceded it。
Secondly； though Mr Jarndyce’s glance； as he withdrew it； rested
for but a moment on me； I felt as if； in that moment； he confided to
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me—and knew that he confided to me； and that I received the
confidence—his hope that Ada and Richard might one day enter
on a dearer relationship。
Mr Skimpole could play on the piano； and the violoncello； and
he was a composer—had composed half an opera once； but got
tired of it—and played what he composed； with taste。 After tea we
had quite a little concert； in which Richard—who was enthralled
by Ada’s singing； and told me that she seemed to know all the
songs that ever were written—and Mr Jarndyce； and I； were the
audience。 After a little while I missed； first Mr Skimpole； and
afterwards Richard； and while I was thinking how could Richard
stay away so long； and lose so much； the maid who had given me
the keys looked in at the door； saying； “If you please； miss； could
you spare a minute？”
When I was shut out with her in the hall； she said； holding up
her hands； “Oh if you please； miss； Mr Carstone says would you
come upstairs to Mr Skimpole’s room。 He has been took； miss！”
“Took？” said I。
“Took； miss。 Sudden；” said the maid。
I was apprehensive that his illness might be of a dangerous
kind； but of course； I begged her to be quiet and not disturb any
one； and collected myself； as I followed her quickly upstairs；
sufficiently to consider what were the best remedies to be applied
if it should prove to be a fit。 She threw open a door； and I went
into a chamber； where； to my unspeakable surprise； instead of
finding Mr Skimpole stretched upon the bed； or prostrate on the
floor； I found him standing before the fire； smiling at Richard；
while Richard； with a face of great embarrassment； looked at a
person on a sofa； in a white great coat； with smooth hair upon his
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head； and not much of it； which he was wiping smoother； and
making less of； with a pocket…handkerchief。
“Miss Summerson；” said Richard； hurriedly； “I am glad you are
come。 You will be able to advise us。 Our friend； Mr Skimpole—
don’t be alarmed！—is arrested for debt。”
“And； really； my dear Miss Summerson；” said Mr Skimpole；
with his agreeable candour； “I never was in a situation； in which
that excellent sense； and quiet habit of method and usefulness；
which anybody must observe in you who has the happiness of
being a quarter of an hour in your society； was more needed。”
The person on the sofa； who appeared to have a cold in his
head； gave such a very loud snort； that he startled me。
“Are you arrested for much； sir？” I inquired of Mr Skimpole。
“My dear Miss Summerson；” said he； shaking his head
pleasantly； “I don’t know。 Some pounds； odd shillings； and half…
pence； I think； were mentioned。”
“It’s twenty…four pound； sixteen； and seven…pence ha’penny；”
observed the stranger。 “That’s wot it is。”
“And it sounds—somehow it sounds；” said Mr Skimpole； “like a
small sum。”
The strange man said nothing； but made another snort。 It was
such a powerful one； that it seemed quite to lift him out of his seat。
“Mr Skimpole；” said Richard to me； “has a delicacy in applying
to my cousin Jarndyce； because he has lately—I think； sir； I
understood you that you had lately—”
“Oh； yes！” returned Mr Skimpole； smiling。 “Though I forgot
how much it was； and when it was。 Jarndyce would readily do it
again； but I have the epicure…like feeling that I would prefer a
novelty in help； that I would rather；” and he looked at Richard and
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me； “develop generosity in a new soil； and in a new form of
flower。”
“What do you think will be best； Miss Summerson！” said
Richard； aside。
I ventured to inquire generally； before replying； what would
happen if the money were not produced。
“Jail；” said the strange man； coolly putting his handkerchief
into his hat； which was on the floor at his feet。 “Or Coavinses。”
“May I ask； sir； what is—”
“Coavinses？” said the strange man。 “A ’ouse。”
Richard and I looked at one another again。 It was a most
singular thing that the arrest was our embarrassment； and not Mr
Skimpole’s。 He observed us with a genial interest； but there
seemed； if I may venture on such a contradiction； nothing selfish
in it。 He had entirely washed his hands of the difficulty； and it had
become ours。
“I thought；” he suggested； as if good…naturedly to help us out；
“that being parties in a chancery suit concerning （as people say） a
large amount of property； Mr Richard； or his beautiful cousin； or
both； could sign something； or make over something； or give some
sort of undertaking； or pledge； or bond？ I don’t know what the
business name of it may be； but I suppose there is some
instrument within their power that would settle this？”
“Not a bit on it；” said the strange man。
“Really？” returned Mr Skimpole。 “That seems odd； now； to one
who is no judge of these things！”
“Odd or even；” said the stranger； gruffly； “I tell you； not a bit on
it！”
“Keep your temper； my good fellow； keep your temper！” Mr
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Skimpole gently reasoned with him； as he made a little drawing of
his head on the flyleaf of a book。 “Don’t be ruffled by your
occupation。 We can separate you from your office； we can separate
the individual from the pursuit。 We are not so prejudiced as to
suppose that in private life you are otherwise than a very
estimable man； with a great deal of poetry in your nature； of which
you may not be conscious。”
The stranger only answered with another violent snort；
whether in acceptance of the poetry…tribute； or in disdainful
rejection of it； he did not express to me。
“Now； my dear Miss Summerson； and my dear Mr Richard；”
said Mr Skimpole； gaily； innocently； and confidingly； as he looked
at his drawing with his head on one side； “here you see me utterly
incapable of helping myself； and