The days when I frequented that miserable corner which my dear girlbrightened can never fade in my remembrance. I never see it, and Inever wish to see it now; I have been there only once since, but inmy memory there is a mournful glory shining on the place which willshine for ever.
Not a day passed without my going there, of course. At first Ifound Mr. Skimpole there, on two or three occasions, idly playingthe piano and talking in his usual vivacious strain. Now, besidesmy very much mistrusting the probability of his being there withoutmaking Richard poorer, I felt as if there were something in hiscareless gaiety too inconsistent with what I knew of the depths ofAda's life. I clearly perceived, too, that Ada shared my feelings.
I therefore resolved, after much thinking of it, to make a privatevisit to Mr. Skimpole and try delicately to explain myself. Mydear girl was the great consideration that made me bold.
I set off one morning, accompanied by Charley, for Somers Town. AsI approached the house, I was strongly inclined to turn back, for Ifelt what a desperate attempt it was to make an impression on Mr.
Skimpole and how extremely likely it was that he would signallydefeat me. However, I thought that being there, I would go throughwith it. I knocked with a trembling hand at Mr. Skimpole's door--literally with a hand, for the knocker was gone--and after a longparley gained admission from an Irishwoman, who was in the areawhen I knocked, breaking up the lid of a water-butt with a poker tolight the fire with.
Mr. Skimpole, lying on the sofa in his room, playing the flute alittle, was enchanted to see me. Now, who should receive me, heasked. Who would I prefer for mistress of the ceremonies? Would Ihave his Comedy daughter, his Beauty daughter, or his Sentimentdaughter? Or would I have all the daughters at once in a perfectnosegay?
I replied, half defeated already, that I wished to speak to himselfonly if he would give me leave.
'My dear Miss Summerson, most joyfully! Of course," he said,bringing his chair nearer mine and breaking into his fascinatingsmile, of course it's not business. Then it's pleasure!"I said it certainly was not business that I came upon, but it wasnot quite a pleasant matter.
"Then, my dear Miss Summerson," said he with the frankest gaiety,"don't allude to it. Why should you allude to anything that is NOTa pleasant matter? I never do. And you are a much pleasantercreature, in every point of view, than I. You are perfectlypleasant; I am imperfectly pleasant; then, if I never allude to anunpleasant matter, how much less should you! So that's disposedof, and we will talk of something else."Although I was embarrassed, I took courage to intimate that I stillwished to pursue the subject.
"I should think it a mistake," said Mr. Skimpole with his airylaugh, "if I thought Miss Summerson capable of making one. But Idon't!""Mr. Skimpole," said I, raising my eyes to his, "I have so oftenheard you say that you are unacquainted with the common affairs oflife--""Meaning our three banking-house friends, L, S, and who's thejunior partner? D?" said Mr. Skimpole, brightly. "Not an idea ofthem!""--That perhaps," I went on, "you will excuse my boldness on thataccount. I think you ought most seriously to know that Richard ispoorer than he was.""Dear me!" said Mr. Skimpole. "So am I, they tell me.""And in very embarrassed circumstances.""Parallel case, exactly!" said Mr. Skimpole with a delightedcountenance.
"This at present naturally causes Ada much secret anxiety, and as Ithink she is less anxious when no claims are made upon her byvisitors, and as Richard has one uneasiness always heavy on hismind, it has occurred to me to take the liberty of saying that--ifyou would--not--"I was coming to the point with great difficulty when he took me byboth hands and with a radiant face and in the liveliest wayanticipated it.
"Not go there? Certainly not, my dear Miss Summerson, mostassuredly not. Why SHOULD I go there? When I go anywhere, I gofor pleasure. I don't go anywhere for pain, because I was made forpleasure. Pain comes to ME when it wants me. Now, I have had verylittle pleasure at our dear Richard's lately, and your practicalsagacity demonstrates why. Our young friends, losing the youthfulpoetry which was once so captivating in them, begin to think, 'Thisis a man who wants pounds.' So I am; I always want pounds; not formyself, but because tradespeople always want them of me. Next, ouryoung friends begin to think, becoming mercenary, 'This is the manwho HAD pounds, who borrowed them,' which I did. I always borrowpounds. So our young friends, reduced to prose (which is much tobe regretted), degenerate in their power of imparting pleasure tome. Why should I go to see them, therefore? Absurd!"Through the beaming smile with which he regarded me as he reasonedthus, there now broke forth a look of disinterested benevolencequite astonishing.
"Besides," he said, pursuing his argument in his tone of light-hearted conviction, "if I don't go anywhere for pain--which wouldbe a perversion of the intention of my being, and a monstrous thingto do--why should I go anywhere to be the cause of pain? If I wentto see our young friends in their present ill-regulated state ofmind, I should give them pain. The associations with me would bedisagreeable. They might say, 'This is the man who had pounds andwho can't pay pounds,' which I can't, of course; nothing could bemore out of the question! Then kindness requires that I shouldn'tgo near them--and I won't."He finished by genially kissing my hand and thanking me. Nothingbut Miss Summerson's fine tact, he said, would have found this outfor him.
I was much disconcerted, but I reflected that if the main pointwere gained, it mattered little how strangely he pervertedeverything leading to it. I had determined to mention somethingelse, however, and I thought I was not to be put off in that.
"Mr. Skimpole," said I, "I must take the liberty of saying before Iconclude my visit that I was much surprised to learn, on the bestauthority, some little time ago, that you knew with whom that poorboy left Bleak House and that you accepted a present on thatoccasion. I have not mentioned it to my guardian, for I fear itwould hurt him unnecessarily; but I may say to you that I was muchsurprised.""No? Really surprised, my dear Miss Summerson?" he returnedinquiringly, raising his pleasant eyebrows.
"Greatly surprised."He thought about it for a little while with a highly agreeable andwhimsical expression of face, then quite gave it up and said in hismost engaging manner, "You know what a child I am. Why surprised?"I was reluctant to enter minutely into that question, but as hebegged I would, for he was really curious to know, I gave him tounderstand in the gentlest words I could use that his conductseemed to involve a disregard of several moral obligations. He wasmuch amused and interested when he heard this and said, "No,really?" with ingenuous simplicity.
"You know I don't intend to be responsible. I never could do it.
Responsibility is a thing that has always been above me--or belowme," said Mr. Skimpole. "I don't even know which; but as Iunderstand the way in which my dear Miss Summerson (alwaysremarkable for her practical good sense and clearness) puts thiscase, I should imagine it was chiefly a question of money, do youknow?"I incautiously gave a qualified assent to this.
"Ah! Then you see," said Mr. Skimpole, shaking his head, "I amhopeless of understanding it."I suggested, as I rose to go, that it was not right to betray myguardian's confidence for a bribe.
"My dear Miss Summerson," he returned with a candid hilarity thatwas all his own, "I can't be bribed.""Not by Mr. Bucket?" said I.
"No," said he. "Not by anybody. I don't attach any value tomoney. I don't care about it, I don't know about it, I don't wantit, I don't keep it--it goes away from me directly. How can I bebribed?"I showed that I was of a different opinion, though I had not thecapacity for arguing the question.
"On the contrary," said Mr. Skimpole, "I am exactly the man to beplaced in a superior position in such a case as that. I am abovethe rest of mankind in such a case as that. I can act withphilosophy in such a case as that. I am not warped by prejudices,as an Italian baby is by bandages. I am as free as the air. Ifeel myself as far above suspicion as Caesar's wife."Anything to equal the lightness of his manner and the playfulimpartiality with which he seemed to convince himself, as he tossedthe matter about like a ball of feathers, was surely never seen inanybody else!
"Observe the case, my dear Miss Summerson. Here is a boy receivedinto the house and put to bed in a state that I strongly object to.
The boy being in bed, a man arrives--like the house that Jackbuilt. Here is the man who demands the boy who is received intothe house and put to bed in a state that I strongly object to.
Here is a bank-note produced by the man who demands the boy who isreceived into the house and put to bed in a state that I stronglyobject to. Here is the Skimpole who accepts the bank-note producedby the man who demands the boy who is received into the house andput to bed in a state that I strongly object to. Those are thefacts. Very well. Should the Skimpole have refused the note? WHYshould the Skimpole have refused the note? Skimpole protests toBucket, 'What's this for? I don't understand it, it is of no useto me, take it away.' Bucket still entreats Skimpole to accept it.
Are there reasons why Skimpole, not being warped by prejudices,should accept it? Yes. Skimpole perceives them. What are they?
Skimpole reasons with himself, this is a tamed lynx, an activepolice-officer, an intelligent man, a person of a peculiarlydirected energy and great subtlety both of conception andexecution, who discovers our friends and enemies for us when theyrun away, recovers our property for us when we are robbed, avengesus comfortably when we are murdered. This active police-officerand intelligent man has acquired, in the exercise of his art, astrong faith in money; he finds it very useful to him, and he makesit very useful to society. Shall I shake that faith in Bucketbecause I want it myself; shall I deliberately blunt one ofBucket's weapons; shall I positively paralyse Bucket in his nextdetective operation? And again. If it is blameable in Skimpole totake the note, it is blameable in Bucket to offer the note--muchmore blameable in Bucket, because he is the knowing man. Now,Skimpole wishes to think well of Bucket; Skimpole deems itessential, in its little place, to the general cohesion of things,that he SHOULD think well of Bucket. The state expressly asks himto trust to Bucket. And he does. And that's all he does!"I had nothing to offer in reply to this exposition and thereforetook my leave. Mr. Skimpole, however, who was in excellentspirits, would not hear of my returning home attended only by"Little Coavinses," and accompanied me himself. He entertained meon the way with a variety of delightful conversation and assuredme, at parting, that he should never forget the fine tact withwhic............