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 entirely in your hands！ I only ask
to be free。 The butterflies are free。 Mankind will surely not deny to
Harold Skimpole what it concedes to the butterflies！”
“My dear Miss Summerson；” said Richard； in a whisper； “I have
ten pounds that I have received from Mr Kenge。 I must try what
that will do。”
I possessed fifteen pounds； odd shillings； which I had saved
from my quarterly allowance during several years。 I had always
thought that some accident might happen which would throw me；
suddenly； without any relation or any property； on the world； and
had always tried to keep some little money by me； that I might not
be quite penniless。 I told Richard of my having this little store； and
having no present need of it； and I asked him delicately to inform
Mr Skimpole； while I should be gone to fetch it； that we would
have the pleasure of paying his debt。
When I came back； Mr Skimpole kissed my hand； and seemed
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quite touched。 Not on his own account （I was again aware of that
perplexing and extraordinary contradiction）； but on ours； as if
personal considerations were impossible with him； and the
contemplation of our happiness alone affected him。 Richard；
begging me； for the greater grace of the transaction； as he said； to
settle with Coavinses （as Mr Skimpole now jocularly called him）； I
counted out the money and received the necessary
acknowledgment。 This； too； delighted Mr Skimpole。
His compliments were so delicately administered； that I
blushed less than I might have done； and settled with the stranger
in the white coat； without making any mistakes。 He put the money
in his pocket； and shortly said； “Well； then； I’ll wish you a good
evening； miss。”
“My friend；” said Mr Skimpole； standing with his back to the
fire； after giving up the sketch when it was half finished； “I should
like to ask you something； without offence。”
I think the reply was； “Cut away； then！”
“Did you know this morning； now； that you were coming out on
this errand？” said Mr Skimpole。
“Know’d it yes’day aft’noon at tea time。” said Coavinses。
“It didn’t affect your appetite？ Didn’t make you at all uneasy？”
“Not a bit；” said Coavinses。 “I know’d if you wos missed today；
you wouldn’t be missed tomorrow。 A day makes no such odds。”
“But when you came down here；” proceeded Mr Skimpole； “it
was a fine day。 The sun was shining； the wind was blowing； the
lights and shadows were passing across the fields； the birds were
singing。”
“Nobody said they warn’t； in my hearing；” returned Coavinses。
“No；” observed Mr Skimpole。 “But what did you think upon the
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road？”
“Wot do you mean？” growled Coavinses； with an appearance of
strong resentment。 “Think！ I’ve got enough to do； and little
enough to get for it； without thinking。 Thinking！” （with profound
contempt）。
“Then you didn’t think； at all events；” proceeded Mr Skimpole；
“to this effect。 ‘Harold Skimpole loves to see the sun shine； loves to
hear the wind blow； loves to watch the changing lights and
shadows； loves to hear the birds； those choristers in Nature’s great
cathedral。 And does it seem to me that I am about to deprive
Harold Skimpole of his share in such possessions； which are his
only birthright！’ You thought nothing to that effect？”
“I—certainly—did—NOT；” said Coavinses； whose doggedness
in utterly renouncing the idea was of that intense kind； that he
could only give adequate expression to it by putting a long interval
between each word； and accompanying the last with a jerk that
might have dislocated his neck。
“Very odd and very curious； the mental process is； in you men
of business！” said Mr Skimpole； thoughtfully。 “Thank you； my
friend； Good night。”
As our absence had been long enough already to seem strange
downstairs； I returned at once； and found Ada sitting at work by
the fireside talking to her cousin John。 Mr Skimpole presently
appeared； and Richard shortly after him。 I was sufficiently
engaged； during the remainder of the evening； in taking my first
lesson in backgammon from Mr Jarndyce； who was very fond of
the game； and from whom I wished of course to learn it as quickly
as I could； in order that I might be of the very small use of being
able to play when he had no better adversary。 But I thought；
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occasionally when Mr Skimpole played some fragments of his own
compositions； or when； both at the piano and violoncello； and at
our table； he preserved； with an absence of all effort； his delightful
spirits and his easy flow of conversation； that Richard and I
seemed to retain the transferred impression of having been
arrested since dinner； and that it was very curious altogether。
It was late before we separated： for when Ada was going at
eleven o’clock； Mr Skimpole went to the piano； and rattled；
hilariously； that the best of all ways； to lengthen our days； was to
steal a few hours from Night； my dear！ It was past twelve before he
took his candle and his radiant face out of the room； and I think he
might have kept us there； if he had seen fit； until daybreak。 Ada
and Richard were lingering for a few moments by the fire；
wondering whether Mrs Jellyby had yet finished her dictation for
the day； when Mr Jarndyce； who had been out of the room；
returned。
“Oh； dear me； what’s this； what’s this！” he said； rubbing his
head and walking about with his good…humoured vexation。
“What’s this they tell me？ Rick； my boy； Esther； my dear； what
have you been doing？ Why did you do it？ How could you do it？
How much apiece was it？—The wind’s round again。 I feel it all
over me！”
We neither of us quite knew what to answer。
“Come； Rick； come！ I must settle this before I sleep。 How much
are you out of pocket？ You two made the money up； you know！
Why did you？ How could you？—O Lord； yes； it’s due east—must
be！”
“Really； sir；” said Richard； “I don’t think it would be
honourable in me to tell you。 Mr Skimpole relied upon us—”
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“Lord bless you； my dear boy！ He relies upon everybody！” said
Mr Jarn
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