"It is possible, Mr. Jarndyce, that the gentleman to whom, for the reasons I have mentioned, I refrain from making further allusion--it is possible, Mr. Jarndyce, that that gentleman may have done me the honour so far to misapprehend my character as to induce you to believe that you would not have been received by my local establishment in Lincolnshire with that urbanity, that courtesy, which its members are instructed to show to all ladies and gentlemen who present themselves at that house. I merely beg to observe, sir, that the fact is the reverse."
My guardian delicately dismissed this remark without making any verbal answer.
"It has given me pain, Mr. Jarndyce," Sir Leicester weightily proceeded. "I assure you, sir, it has given--me--pain--to learn from the housekeeper at Chesney Wold that a gentleman who was in your company in that part of the county, and who would appear to possess a cultivated taste for the fine arts, was likewise deterred by some such cause from examining the family pictures with that leisure, that attention, that care, which he might have desired to bestow upon them and which some of them might possibly have repaid." Here he produced a card and read, with much gravity and a little trouble, through his eye-glass, "Mr. Hirrold--Herald--Harold--Skampling--Skumpling--I beg your pardon--Skimpole."
"This is Mr. Harold Skimpole," said my guardian, evidently surprised.
"Oh!" exclaimed Sir Leicester, "I am happy to meet Mr. Skimpole and to have the opportunity of tendering my personal regrets. I hope, sir, that when you again find yourself in my part of the county, you will be under no similar sense of restraint."

"It is possible, Mr. Jarndyce, that the gentleman to whom I have referred may have led you to believe that you would not have been received at my house with courtesy. I beg to observe, sir, that the fact is the reverse. It has given me pain, Mr. Jarndyce, to learn from the housekeeper at Chesney Wold that a gentleman who was with you, and who would appear to possess a cultivated taste for the fine arts, was likewise deterred from examining the family pictures with that leisure which he might have desired to bestow upon them." Here he produced a card and read, with much gravity, through his eye-glass, "Mr. Herald - Harold - Skumpling - I beg your pardon - Skimpole."
"This is Mr. Harold Skimpole," said my guardian, surprised.
"Oh!" exclaimed Sir Leicester. "I am happy to meet Mr. Skimpole. I hope, sir, that when you again find yourself in my part of the county, you will be under no similar sense of restraint."
