English
Inowfellintoaregularroutineofapprenticeshiplife,whichwasvaried,beyondthelimitsofthevillageandthemarshes,bynomoreremarkablecircumstancethanthearrivalofmybirthdayandmypayinganothervisittoMissHavisham.
IfoundMissSarahPocketstillondutyatthegate,IfoundMissHavishamjustasIhadlefther,andshespokeofEstellaintheverysameway,ifnotintheverysamewords.
Theinterviewlastedbutafewminutes,andshegavemeaguineawhenIwasgoing,andtoldmetocomeagainonmynextbirthday.
Imaymentionatoncethatthisbecameanannualcustom.
Itriedtodeclinetakingtheguineaonthefirstoccasion,butwithnobettereffectthancausinghertoaskmeveryangrily,ifIexpectedmore?Then,andafterthat,Itookit.
Sounchangingwasthedulloldhouse,theyellowlightinthedarkenedroom,thefadedspectreinthechairbythedressing-tableglass,thatIfeltasifthestoppingoftheclockshadstoppedTimeinthatmysteriousplace,and,whileIandeverythingelseoutsideitgrewolder,itstoodstill.
Daylightneverenteredthehouseastomythoughtsandremembrancesofit,anymorethanastotheactualfact.
Itbewilderedme,andunderitsinfluenceIcontinuedathearttohatemytradeandtobeashamedofhome.
ImperceptiblyIbecameconsciousofachangeinBiddy,however.
Hershoescameupattheheel,herhairgrewbrightandneat,herhandswerealwaysclean.
Shewasnotbeautiful—shewascommon,andcouldnotbelikeEstella—butshewaspleasantandwholesomeandsweet-tempered.
Shehadnotbeenwithusmorethanayear(Irememberherbeingnewlyoutofmourningatthetimeitstruckme),whenIobservedtomyselfoneeveningthatshehadcuriouslythoughtfulandattentiveeyes;eyesthatwereveryprettyandverygood.
ItcameofmyliftingupmyowneyesfromataskIwasporingat—writingsomepassagesfromabook,toimprovemyselfintwowaysatoncebyasortofstratagem—andseeingBiddyobservantofwhatIwasabout.
Ilaiddownmypen,andBiddystoppedinherneedleworkwithoutlayingitdown.
“Biddy,”saidI,“howdoyoumanageit?EitherIamverystupid,oryouareveryclever.”
“WhatisitthatImanage?Idon’tknow,”returnedBiddy,smiling.
Shemanagedourwholedomesticlife,andwonderfullytoo;butIdidnotmeanthat,thoughthatmadewhatIdidmean,moresurprising.
“Howdoyoumanage,Biddy,”saidI,“tolearneverythingthatIlearn,andalwaystokeepupwithme?”
Iwasbeginningtoberathervainofmyknowledge,forIspentmybirthdayguineasonit,andsetasidethegreaterpartofmypocket-moneyforsimilarinvestment;thoughIhavenodoubt,now,thatthelittleIknewwasextremelydearattheprice.
“Imightaswellaskyou,”saidBiddy,“howyoumanage?”
“No;becausewhenIcomeinfromtheforgeofanight,anyonecanseemeturningtoatit.Butyouneverturntoatit,Biddy.”
“IsupposeImustcatchit—likeacough,”saidBiddy,quietly;andwentonwithhersewing.
PursuingmyideaasIleanedbackinmywoodenchairandlookedatBiddysewingawaywithherheadononeside,Ibegantothinkherratheranextraordinarygirl.
For,Icalledtomindnow,thatshewasequallyaccomplishedinthetermsofourtrade,andthenamesofourdifferentsortsofwork,andourvarioustools.Inshort,whateverIknew,Biddyknew.
Theoretically,shewasalreadyasgoodablacksmithasI,orbetter.
“Youareoneofthose,Biddy,”saidI,“whomakethemostofeverychance.Youneverhadachancebeforeyoucamehere,andseehowimprovedyouare!”
Biddylookedatmeforaninstant,andwentonwithhersewing.“Iwasyourfirstteacherthough;wasn’tI?”saidshe,asshesewed.
“Biddy!”Iexclaimed,inamazement.“Why,youarecrying!”
“NoIamnot,”saidBiddy,lookingupandlaughing.“Whatputthatinyourhead?”
Whatcouldhaveputitinmyhead,buttheglisteningofatearasitdroppedonherwork?
Isatsilent,recallingwhatadrudgeshehadbeenuntilMr.Wopsle’sgreat-auntsuccessfullyovercamethatbadhabitofliving,sohighlydesirabletobegotridofbysomepeople.
Irecalledthehopelesscircumstancesbywhichshehadbeensurroundedinthemiserablelittleshopandthemiserablelittlenoisyeveningschool,withthatmiserableoldbundleofincompetencealwaystobedraggedandshouldered.
IreflectedthateveninthoseuntowardtimestheremusthavebeenlatentinBiddywhatwasnowdeveloping,for,inmyfirstuneasinessanddiscontentIhadturnedtoherforhelp,asamatterofcourse.
Biddysatquietlysewing,sheddingnomoretears,andwhileIlookedatherandthoughtaboutitall,itoccurredtomethatperhapsIhadnotbeensufficientlygratefultoBiddy.
Imighthavebeentooreserved,andshouldhavepatronizedhermore(thoughIdidnotusethatprecisewordinmymeditations),withmyconfidence.
“Yes,Biddy,”Iobserved,whenIhaddoneturningitover,“youweremyfirstteacher,andthatatatimewhenwelittlethoughtofeverbeingtogetherlikethis,inthiskitchen.”
“Ah,poorthing!”repliedBiddy.Itwaslikeherself-forgetfulness,totransfertheremarktomysister,andtogetupandbebusyabouther,makinghermorecomfortable;“that’ssadlytrue!”
“Well!”saidI,“wemusttalktogetheralittlemore,asweusedtodo.
AndImustconsultyoualittlemore,asIusedtodo.
LetushaveaquietwalkonthemarshesnextSunday,Biddy,andalongchat.”
Mysisterwasneverleftalonenow;butJoemorethanreadilyundertookthecareofheronthatSundayafternoon,andBiddyandIwentouttogether.Itwassummer-time,andlovelyweather.
Whenwehadpassedthevillageandthechurchandthechurchyard,andwereoutonthemarshesandbegantoseethesailsoftheshipsastheysailedon,IbegantocombineMissHavishamandEstellawiththeprospect,inmyusualway.
Whenwecametotheriver-sideandsatdownonthebank,withthewaterripplingatourfeet,makingitallmorequietthanitwouldhavebeenwithoutthatsound,IresolvedthatitwasagoodtimeandplacefortheadmissionofBiddyintomyinnerconfidence.
“Biddy,”saidI,afterbindinghertosecrecy,“Iwanttobeagentleman.”
“Oh,Iwouldn’t,ifIwasyou!”shereturned.“Idon’tthinkitwouldanswer.”
“Biddy,”saidI,withsomeseverity,“Ihaveparticularreasonsforwantingtobeagentleman.”
“Youknowbest,Pip;butdon’tyouthinkyouarehappierasyouare?”
“Biddy,”Iexclaimed,impatiently,“IamnotatallhappyasIam.Iamdisgustedwithmycallingandwithmylife.Ihavenevertakentoeither,sinceIwasbound.Don’tbeabsurd.”
“WasIabsurd?”saidBiddy,quietlyraisinghereyebrows;“Iamsorryforthat;Ididn’tmeantobe.Ionlywantyoutodowell,andtobecomfortable.”
“Wellthen,understandonceforallthatInevershallorcanbecomfortable—oranythingbutmiserable—there,Biddy!—unlessIcanleadaverydifferentsortoflifefromthelifeIleadnow.”
“That’sapity!”saidBiddy,shakingherheadwithasorrowfulair.
Now,Itoohadsooftenthoughtitapity,that,inthesingularkindofquarrelwithmyselfwhichIwasalwayscarryingon,IwashalfinclinedtoshedtearsofvexationanddistresswhenBiddygaveutterancetohersentimentandmyown.
Itoldhershewasright,andIknewitwasmuchtoberegretted,butstillitwasnottobehelped.
“IfIcouldhavesettleddown,”IsaidtoBiddy,pluckinguptheshortgrasswithinreach,muchasIhadonceuponatimepulledmyfeelingsoutofmyhairandkickedthemintothebrewerywall:“ifIcouldhavesettleddownandbeenbuthalfasfondoftheforgeasIwaswhenIwaslittle,Iknowitwouldhavebeenmuchbetterforme.
YouandIandJoewouldhavewantednothingthen,andJoeandIwouldperhapshavegonepartnerswhenIwasoutofmytime,andImightevenhavegrownuptokeepcompanywithyou,andwemighthavesatonthisverybankonafineSunday,quitedifferentpeople.
Ishouldhavebeengoodenoughforyou;shouldn’tI,Biddy?”
Biddysighedasshelookedattheshipssailingon,andreturnedforanswer,“Yes;Iamnotover-particular.”Itscarcelysoundedflattering,butIknewshemeantwell.
“Insteadofthat,”saidI,pluckingupmoregrassandchewingabladeortwo,“seehowIamgoingon.
Dissatisfied,anduncomfortable,and—whatwoulditsignifytome,beingcoarseandcommon,ifnobodyhadtoldmeso!”
Biddyturnedherfacesuddenlytowardsmine,andlookedfarmoreattentivelyatmethanshehadlookedatthesailingships.
“Itwasneitheraverytruenoraverypolitethingtosay,”sheremarked,directinghereyestotheshipsagain.“Whosaidit?”
Iwasdisconcerted,forIhadbrokenawaywithoutquiteseeingwhereIwasgoingto.
Itwasnottobeshuffledoffnow,however,andIanswered,“ThebeautifulyoungladyatMissHavisham’s,andshe’smorebeautifulthananybodyeverwas,andIadmireherdreadfully,andIwanttobeagentlemanonheraccount.”
Havingmadethislunaticconfession,Ibegantothrowmytorn-upgrassintotheriver,asifIhadsomethoughtsoffollowingit.
“Doyouwanttobeagentleman,tospiteherortogainherover?”Biddyquietlyaskedme,afterapause.
“Idon’tknow,”Imoodilyanswered.
“Because,ifitistospiteher,”Biddypursued,“Ishouldthink—butyouknowbest—thatmightbebetterandmoreindependentlydonebycaringnothingforherwords.
Andifitistogainherover,Ishouldthink—butyouknowbest—shewasnotworthgainingover.”
ExactlywhatImyselfhadthought,manytimes.
Exactlywhatwasperfectlymanifesttomeatthemoment.
ButhowcouldI,apoordazedvillagelad,avoidthatwonderfulinconsistencyintowhichthebestandwisestofmenfalleveryday?
“Itmaybeallquitetrue,”saidItoBiddy,“butIadmireherdreadfully.”
Inshort,IturnedoveronmyfacewhenIcametothat,andgotagoodgrasponthehaironeachsideofmyhead,andwrencheditwell.
Allthewhileknowingthemadnessofmyhearttobesoverymadandmisplaced,thatIwasquiteconsciousitwouldhaveservedmyfaceright,ifIhadlifteditupbymyhair,andknockeditagainstthepebblesasapunishmentforbelongingtosuchanidiot.
Biddywasthewisestofgirls,andshetriedtoreasonnomorewithme.
Sheputherhand,whichwasacomfortablehandthoughroughenedbywork,uponmyhands,oneafteranother,andgentlytookthemoutofmyhair.
Thenshesoftlypattedmyshoulderinasoothingway,whilewithmyfaceuponmysleeveIcriedalittle—exactlyasIhaddoneinthebreweryyard—andfeltvaguelyconvincedthatIwasverymuchill-usedbysomebody,orbyeverybody;Ican’tsaywhich.
“Iamgladofonething,”saidBiddy,“andthatis,thatyouhavefeltyoucouldgivemeyourconfidence,Pip.
AndIamgladofanotherthing,andthatis,thatofcourseyouknowyoumaydependuponmykeepingitandalwayssofardeservingit.Ifyourfirstteacher(dear!
suchapoorone,andsomuchinneedofbeingtaughtherself!)
hadbeenyourteacheratthepresenttime,shethinkssheknowswhatlessonshewouldset.
ButItwouldbeahardonetolearn,andyouhavegotbeyondher,andit’sofnousenow.”
So,withaquietsighforme,Biddyrosefromthebank,andsaid,withafreshandpleasantchangeofvoice,“Shallwewalkalittlefurther,orgohome?”
“Biddy,”Icried,gettingup,puttingmyarmroundherneck,andgivingherakiss,“Ishallalwaystellyoueverything.”
“Tillyou’reagentleman,”saidBiddy.
“YouknowInevershallbe,sothat’salways.NotthatIhaveanyoccasiontotellyouanything,foryouknoweverythingIknow—asItoldyouathometheothernight.”
“Ah!”saidBiddy,quiteinawhisper,asshelookedawayattheships.Andthenrepeated,withherformerpleasantchange;“shallwewalkalittlefurther,orgohome?”
IsaidtoBiddywewouldwalkalittlefurther,andwedidso,andthesummerafternoontoneddownintothesummerevening,anditwasverybeautiful.
IbegantoconsiderwhetherIwasnotmorenaturallyandwholesomelysituated,afterall,inthesecircumstances,thanplayingbeggarmyneighbourbycandlelightintheroomwiththestoppedclocks,andbeingdespisedbyEstella.
IthoughtitwouldbeverygoodformeifIcouldgetheroutofmyhead,withalltherestofthoseremembrancesandfancies,andcouldgotoworkdeterminedtorelishwhatIhadtodo,andsticktoit,andmakethebestofit.
IaskedmyselfthequestionwhetherIdidnotsurelyknowthatifEstellawerebesidemeatthatmomentinsteadofBiddy,shewouldmakememiserable?
IwasobligedtoadmitthatIdidknowitforacertainty,andIsaidtomyself,“Pip,whatafoolyouare!”
Wetalkedagooddealaswewalked,andallthatBiddysaidseemedright.
Biddywasneverinsulting,orcapricious,orBiddyto-dayandsomebodyelseto-morrow;shewouldhavederivedonlypain,andnopleasure,fromgivingmepain;shewouldfarratherhavewoundedherownbreastthanmine.
Howcoulditbe,then,thatIdidnotlikehermuchthebetterofthetwo?
“Biddy,”saidI,whenwewerewalkinghomeward,“Iwishyoucouldputmeright.”
“IwishIcould!”saidBiddy.
“IfIcouldonlygetmyselftofallinlovewithyou—youdon’tmindmyspeakingsoopenlytosuchanoldacquaintance?”
“Ohdear,notatall!”saidBiddy.“Don’tmindme.”
“IfIcouldonlygetmyselftodoit,thatwouldbethethingforme.”
“Butyouneverwill,yousee,”saidBiddy.
Itdidnotappearquitesounlikelytomethatevening,asitwouldhavedoneifwehaddiscusseditafewhoursbefore.
IthereforeobservedIwasnotquitesureofthat.
ButBiddysaidshewas,andshesaiditdecisively.
InmyheartIbelievedhertoberight;andyetItookitratherill,too,thatsheshouldbesopositiveonthepoint.
Whenwecamenearthechurchyard,wehadtocrossanembankment,andgetoverastilenearasluicegate.
Therestartedup,fromthegate,orfromtherushes,orfromtheooze(whichwasquiteinhisstagnantway),OldOrlick.
“Halloa!”hegrowled,“whereareyoutwogoing?”
“Whereshouldwebegoing,buthome?”
“Wellthen,”saidhe,“I’mjiggeredifIdon’tseeyouhome!”
Thispenaltyofbeingjiggeredwasafavouritesupposititiouscaseofhis.
HeattachednodefinitemeaningtothewordthatIamawareof,butusedit,likehisownpretendedChristianname,toaffrontmankind,andconveyanideaofsomethingsavagelydamaging.
WhenIwasyounger,Ihadhadageneralbeliefthatifhehadjiggeredmepersonally,hewouldhavedoneitwithasharpandtwistedhook.
Biddywasmuchagainsthisgoingwithus,andsaidtomeinawhisper,“Don’tlethimcome;Idon’tlikehim.”
AsIdidnotlikehimeither,Itookthelibertyofsayingthatwethankedhim,butwedidn’twantseeinghome.
Hereceivedthatpieceofinformationwithayelloflaughter,anddroppedback,butcameslouchingafterusatalittledistance.
CurioustoknowwhetherBiddysuspectedhimofhavinghadahandinthatmurderousattackofwhichmysisterhadneverbeenabletogiveanyaccount,Iaskedherwhyshedidnotlikehim.
“Oh!”shereplied,glancingoverhershoulderasheslouchedafterus,“becauseI—Iamafraidhelikesme.”
“Didheevertellyouhelikedyou?”Iasked,indignantly.
“No,”saidBiddy,glancingoverhershoulderagain,“henevertoldmeso;buthedancesatme,wheneverhecancatchmyeye.”
Howevernovelandpeculiarthistestimonyofattachment,Ididnotdoubttheaccuracyoftheinterpretation.
IwasveryhotindeeduponOldOrlick’sdaringtoadmireher;ashotasifitwereanoutrageonmyself.
“Butitmakesnodifferencetoyou,youknow,”saidBiddy,calmly.
“No,Biddy,itmakesnodifferencetome;onlyIdon’tlikeit;Idon’tapproveofit.”
“NorIneither,”saidBiddy.“Thoughthatmakesnodifferencetoyou.”
“Exactly,”saidI;“butImusttellyouIshouldhavenoopinionofyou,Biddy,ifhedancedatyouwithyourownconsent.”
IkeptaneyeonOrlickafterthatnight,and,whenevercircumstanceswerefavourabletohisdancingatBiddy,gotbeforehim,toobscurethatdemonstration.
HehadstruckrootinJoe’sestablishment,byreasonofmysister’ssuddenfancyforhim,orIshouldhavetriedtogethimdismissed.
Hequiteunderstoodandreciprocatedmygoodintentions,asIhadreasontoknowthereafter.
Andnow,becausemymindwasnotconfusedenoughbefore,Icomplicateditsconfusionfiftythousand-fold,byhavingstatesandseasonswhenIwasclearthatBiddywasimmeasurablybetterthanEstella,andthattheplainhonestworkinglifetowhichIwasborn,hadnothinginittobeashamedof,butofferedmesufficientmeansofself-respectandhappiness.
Atthosetimes,IwoulddecideconclusivelythatmydisaffectiontodearoldJoeandtheforge,wasgone,andthatIwasgrowingupinafairwaytobepartnerswithJoeandtokeepcompanywithBiddy—whenallinamomentsomeconfoundingremembranceoftheHavishamdayswouldfalluponme,likeadestructivemissile,andscattermywitsagain.
Scatteredwitstakealongtimepickingup;andoften,beforeIhadgotthemwelltogether,theywouldbedispersedinalldirectionsbyonestraythought,thatperhapsafterallMissHavishamwasgoingtomakemyfortunewhenmytimewasout.
Ifmytimehadrunout,itwouldhaveleftmestillattheheightofmyperplexities,Idaresay.Itneverdidrunout,however,butwasbroughttoaprematureend,asIproceedtorelate.
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