But it is not to recal this fancy, well | smiling at Richard, while Richard, with as I remember it, that I recal the scene. a face of great embarrassment, looked First, I was not quite unconscious of at a person on a sofa, in a white great the contrast, in respect of meaning and coat, with smooth hair upon his head intention, between the silent look di- and not much of it, which he was rected that way, and the flow of words wiping smoother, and making less of that had preceded it. Secondly, though with a pocket-handkerchief. 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 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. "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 candor, "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. 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 II 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 "Are you arrested for much, sir?” inquired of Mr. Skimpole. "My dear Miss Summerson," said he, shaking his head pleasantly, "I don't know. Some pounds, odd shillings, and halfpence, I think, were mentioned." "It's twenty-four pound, sixteen, and sevenpence 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 me, "develop generosity in a new soil, and in a new form of flower." 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. 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 ac ceptance of the poetry-tribute, or in disdainful rejection of it, ne did not express to me. "Now, my dear Miss Summerson, and my dear Mr. Richard," said Mr. Skimpole, gaily, innocently, and on. fidingly, as he looked at his drawing with his head on one side; here you see me utter incapable of helping myself, and entirely in your hands! [ 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 received from Mr. Kenge. I must try what that will do." I possessed fifteen pounds, odd shilings, 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 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 | panying the last with a jerk that might evening, Miss." "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 to-day, you wouldn't be missed to-morrow. 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 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 Coaviuses, 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 accom 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 down stairs, 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, occasionally when Mr. Skimpole played some fragments of his own compositions; or when, both at the piano and the 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. Jelly by 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 |