ABSTRACT
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 author, were the audience. After a little while author missed, first Mr. Skimpole, and afterwards Richard; and while author 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 author 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 up-stairs to Mr. Skimpole's room. He has been taken, miss!'.
