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.
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.