Sir Leicester seemed to approve of this sentiment highly.  “An artist, sir?”

“No,” returned Mr. Skimpole.  “A perfectly idle man.  A mere amateur.”

Sir Leicester seemed to approve of this even more.  He hoped he might have the good fortune to be at Chesney Wold when Mr. Skimpole next came down into Lincolnshire.  Mr. Skimpole professed himself much flattered and honoured.

“Mr. Skimpole mentioned,” pursued Sir Leicester, addressing himself again to my guardian, “mentioned to the housekeeper, who, as he may have observed, is an old and attached retainer of the family—­”

("That is, when I walked through the house the other day, on the occasion of my going down to visit Miss Summerson and Miss Clare,” Mr. Skimpole airily explained to us.)

“—­That the friend with whom he had formerly been staying there was Mr. Jarndyce.”  Sir Leicester bowed to the bearer of that name.  “And hence I became aware of the circumstance for which I have professed my regret.  That this should have occurred to any gentleman, Mr. Jarndyce, but especially a gentleman formerly known to Lady Dedlock, and indeed claiming some distant connexion with her, and for whom (as I learn from my Lady herself) she entertains a high respect, does, I assure you, give—­me—­pain.”

“Pray say no more about it, Sir Leicester,” returned my guardian.  “I am very sensible, as I am sure we all are, of your consideration.  Indeed the mistake was mine, and I ought to apologize for it.”

I had not once looked up.  I had not seen the visitor and had not even appeared to myself to hear the conversation.  It surprises me to find that I can recall it, for it seemed to make no impression on me as it passed.  I heard them speaking, but my mind was so confused and my instinctive avoidance of this gentleman made his presence so distressing to me that I thought I understood nothing, through the rushing in my head and the beating of my heart.

“I mentioned the subject to Lady Dedlock,” said Sir Leicester, rising, “and my Lady informed me that she had had the pleasure of exchanging a few words with Mr. Jarndyce and his wards on the occasion of an accidental meeting during their sojourn in the vicinity.  Permit me, Mr. Jarndyce, to repeat to yourself, and to these ladies, the assurance I have already tendered to Mr. Skimpole.  Circumstances undoubtedly prevent my saying that it would afford me any gratification to hear that Mr. Boythorn had favoured my house with his presence, but those circumstances are confined to that gentleman himself and do not extend beyond him.”

“You know my old opinion of him,” said Mr. Skimpole, lightly appealing to us.  “An amiable bull who is determined to make every colour scarlet!”

Sir Leicester Dedlock coughed as if he could not possibly hear another word in reference to such an individual and took his leave with great ceremony and politeness.  I got to my own room with all possible speed and remained there until I had recovered my self-command.  It had been very much disturbed, but I was thankful to find when I went downstairs again that they only rallied me for having been shy and mute before the great Lincolnshire baronet.