English
BetimesinthemorningIwasupandout.
ItwastooearlyyettogotoMissHavisham’s,soIloiteredintothecountryonMissHavisham’ssideoftown—whichwasnotJoe’sside;Icouldgothereto-morrow—thinkingaboutmypatroness,andpaintingbrilliantpicturesofherplansforme.
ShehadadoptedEstella,shehadasgoodasadoptedme,anditcouldnotfailtobeherintentiontobringustogether.
Shereserveditformetorestorethedesolatehouse,admitthesunshineintothedarkrooms,settheclocksa-goingandthecoldhearthsa-blazing,teardownthecobwebs,destroythevermin—inshort,doalltheshiningdeedsoftheyoungKnightofromance,andmarrythePrincess.
IhadstoppedtolookatthehouseasIpassed;anditssearedredbrickwalls,blockedwindows,andstronggreenivyclaspingeventhestacksofchimneyswithitstwigsandtendons,asifwithsinewyoldarms,hadmadeuparichattractivemystery,ofwhichIwasthehero.
Estellawastheinspirationofit,andtheheartofit,ofcourse.
But,thoughshehadtakensuchstrongpossessionofme,thoughmyfancyandmyhopeweresosetuponher,thoughherinfluenceonmyboyishlifeandcharacterhadbeenall-powerful,Ididnot,eventhatromanticmorning,investherwithanyattributessavethoseshepossessed.
Imentionthisinthisplace,ofafixedpurpose,becauseitisthecluebywhichIamtobefollowedintomypoorlabyrinth.
Accordingtomyexperience,theconventionalnotionofalovercannotbealwaystrue.
Theunqualifiedtruthis,thatwhenIlovedEstellawiththeloveofaman,IlovedhersimplybecauseIfoundherirresistible.
Onceforall;Iknewtomysorrow,oftenandoften,ifnotalways,thatIlovedheragainstreason,againstpromise,againstpeace,againsthope,againsthappiness,againstalldiscouragementthatcouldbe.
Onceforall;IlovedhernonethelessbecauseIknewit,andithadnomoreinfluenceinrestrainingme,thanifIhaddevoutlybelievedhertobehumanperfection.
Isoshapedoutmywalkastoarriveatthegateatmyoldtime.
WhenIhadrungatthebellwithanunsteadyhand,Iturnedmybackuponthegate,whileItriedtogetmybreathandkeepthebeatingofmyheartmoderatelyquiet.
Iheardthesidedooropen,andstepscomeacrossthecourt-yard;butIpretendednottohear,evenwhenthegateswungonitsrustyhinges.
Beingatlasttouchedontheshoulder,Istartedandturned.
Istartedmuchmorenaturallythen,tofindmyselfconfrontedbyamaninasobergreydress.
ThelastmanIshouldhaveexpectedtoseeinthatplaceofporteratMissHavisham’sdoor.
“Orlick!”
“Ah,youngmaster,there’smorechangesthanyours.Butcomein,comein.It’sopposedtomyorderstoholdthegateopen.”
Ienteredandheswungit,andlockedit,andtookthekeyout.“Yes!”saidhe,facinground,afterdoggedlyprecedingmeafewstepstowardsthehouse.“HereIam!”
“Howdidyoucomehere?”
“Icomeher,”heretorted,“onmylegs.Ihadmyboxbroughtalongsidemeinabarrow.”
“Areyouhereforgood?”
“Iain’therforharm,youngmaster,Isuppose?”
Iwasnotsosureofthat.Ihadleisuretoentertaintheretortinmymind,whileheslowlyliftedhisheavyglancefromthepavement,upmylegsandarms,tomyface.
“Thenyouhavelefttheforge?”Isaid.
“Dothislooklikeaforge?”repliedOrlick,sendinghisglanceallroundhimwithanairofinjury.“Now,doitlooklikeit?”
IaskedhimhowlonghehadleftGargery’sforge?
“Onedayissolikeanotherhere,”hereplied,“thatIdon’tknowwithoutcastingitup.However,Icomehersometimesinceyouleft.”
“Icouldhavetoldyouthat,Orlick.”
“Ah!”saidhe,drily.“Butthenyou’vegottobeascholar.”
Bythistimewehadcometothehouse,whereIfoundhisroomtobeonejustwithinthesidedoor,withalittlewindowinitlookingonthecourt-yard.
Initssmallproportions,itwasnotunlikethekindofplaceusuallyassignedtoagate-porterinParis.
Certainkeyswerehangingonthewall,towhichhenowaddedthegate-key;andhispatchwork-coveredbedwasinalittleinnerdivisionorrecess.
Thewholehadaslovenlyconfinedandsleepylook,likeacageforahumandormouse:whilehe,loomingdarkandheavyintheshadowofacornerbythewindow,lookedlikethehumandormouseforwhomitwasfittedup—asindeedhewas.
“Ineversawthisroombefore,”Iremarked;“butthereusedtobenoPorterhere.”
“No,”saidhe;“nottillitgotaboutthattherewasnoprotectiononthepremises,anditcometobeconsidereddangerous,withconvictsandTagandRagandBobtailgoingupanddown.
AndthenIwasrecommendedtotheplaceasamanwhocouldgiveanothermanasgoodashebrought,andItookit.
It’seasierthanbellowsingandhammering.—That’sloaded,thatis.”
Myeyehadbeencaughtbyagunwithabrassboundstockoverthechimney-piece,andhiseyehadfollowedmine.
“Well,”saidI,notdesirousofmoreconversation,“shallIgouptoMissHavisham?”
“Burnme,ifIknow!”heretorted,firststretchinghimselfandthenshakinghimself;“myordersendshere,youngmaster.
Igivethisherebellarapwiththisherehammer,andyougoonalongthepassagetillyoumeetsomebody.”
“Iamexpected,Ibelieve?”
“Burnmetwiceover,ifIcansay!”saidhe.
Uponthat,IturneddownthelongpassagewhichIhadfirsttroddeninmythickboots,andhemadehisbellsound.
Attheendofthepassage,whilethebellwasstillreverberating,IfoundSarahPocket:whoappearedtohavenowbecomeconstitutionallygreenandyellowbyreasonofme.
“Oh!”saidshe.“You,isit,Mr.Pip?”
“Itis,MissPocket.IamgladtotellyouthatMr.Pocketandfamilyareallwell.”
“Aretheyanywiser?”saidSarah,withadismalshakeofthehead;“theyhadbetterbewiser,thanwell.Ah,Matthew,Matthew!Youknowyourway,sir?”
Tolerably,forIhadgoneupthestaircaseinthedark,manyatime.
Iascendeditnow,inlighterbootsthanofyore,andtappedinmyoldwayatthedoorofMissHavisham’sroom.
“Pip’srap,”Iheardhersay,immediately;“comein,Pip.”
Shewasinherchairneartheoldtable,intheolddress,withhertwohandscrossedonherstick,herchinrestingonthem,andhereyesonthefire.
Sittingnearher,withthewhiteshoethathadneverbeenworn,inherhand,andherheadbentasshelookedatit,wasanelegantladywhomIhadneverseen.
“Comein,Pip,”MissHavishamcontinuedtomutter,withoutlookingroundorup;“comein,Pip,howdoyoudo,Pip?soyoukissmyhandasifIwereaqueen,eh?—Well?”
Shelookedupatmesuddenly,onlymovinghereyes,andrepeatedinagrimlyplayfulmanner,
“Well?”
“Iheard,MissHavisham,”saidI,ratherataloss,“thatyouweresokindastowishmetocomeandseeyou,andIcamedirectly.”
“Well?”
TheladywhomIhadneverseenbefore,lifteduphereyesandlookedarchlyatme,andthenIsawthattheeyeswereEstella’seyes.
Butshewassomuchchanged,wassomuchmorebeautiful,somuchmorewomanly,inallthingswinningadmirationhadmadesuchwonderfuladvance,thatIseemedtohavemadenone.
Ifancied,asIlookedather,thatIslippedhopelesslybackintothecoarseandcommonboyagain.
Othesenseofdistanceanddisparitythatcameuponme,andtheinaccessibilitythatcameabouther!
Shegavemeherhand.IstammeredsomethingaboutthepleasureIfeltinseeingheragain,andaboutmyhavinglookedforwardtoitforalong,longtime.
“Doyoufindhermuchchanged,Pip?”askedMissHavisham,withhergreedylook,andstrikingherstickuponachairthatstoodbetweenthem,asasigntometositdownthere.
“WhenIcamein,MissHavisham,IthoughttherewasnothingofEstellainthefaceorfigure;butnowitallsettlesdownsocuriouslyintotheold—”
“What?YouarenotgoingtosayintotheoldEstella?”MissHavishaminterrupted.“Shewasproudandinsulting,andyouwantedtogoawayfromher.Don’tyouremember?”
Isaidconfusedlythatthatwaslongago,andthatIknewnobetterthen,andthelike.
Estellasmiledwithperfectcomposure,andsaidshehadnodoubtofmyhavingbeenquiteright,andofherhavingbeenverydisagreeable.
“Ishechanged?”MissHavishamaskedher.
“Verymuch,”saidEstella,lookingatme.
“Lesscoarseandcommon?”saidMissHavisham,playingwithEstella’shair.
Estellalaughed,andlookedattheshoeinherhand,andlaughedagain,andlookedatme,andputtheshoedown.Shetreatedmeasaboystill,butsheluredmeon.
Wesatinthedreamyroomamongtheoldstrangeinfluenceswhichhadsowroughtuponme,andIlearntthatshehadbutjustcomehomefromFrance,andthatshewasgoingtoLondon.
Proudandwilfulasofold,shehadbroughtthosequalitiesintosuchsubjectiontoherbeautythatitwasimpossibleandoutofnature—orIthoughtso—toseparatethemfromherbeauty.
Trulyitwasimpossibletodissociateherpresencefromallthosewretchedhankeringsaftermoneyandgentilitythathaddisturbedmyboyhood—fromallthoseill-regulatedaspirationsthathadfirstmademeashamedofhomeandJoe—fromallthosevisionsthathadraisedherfaceintheglowingfire,struckitoutoftheironontheanvil,extracteditfromthedarknessofnighttolookinatthewoodenwindowoftheforgeandflitaway.
Inaword,itwasimpossibleformetoseparateher,inthepastorinthepresent,fromtheinnermostlifeofmylife.
ItwassettledthatIshouldstaytherealltherestoftheday,andreturntothehotelatnight,andtoLondonto-morrow.
Whenwehadconversedforawhile,MissHavishamsentustwoouttowalkintheneglectedgarden:onourcominginby-and-by,shesaid,Ishouldwheelheraboutalittleasintimesofyore.
So,EstellaandIwentoutintothegardenbythegatethroughwhichIhadstrayedtomyencounterwiththepaleyounggentleman,nowHerbert;I,tremblinginspiritandworshippingtheveryhemofherdress;she,quitecomposedandmostdecidedlynotworshippingthehemofmine.
Aswedrewneartotheplaceofencounter,shestoppedandsaid:
“Imusthavebeenasingularlittlecreaturetohideandseethatfightthatday:butIdid,andIenjoyeditverymuch.”
“Yourewardedmeverymuch.”
“DidI?”shereplied,inanincidentalandforgetfulway.
“IrememberIentertainedagreatobjectiontoyouradversary,becauseItookitillthatheshouldbebroughtheretopestermewithhiscompany.”
“HeandIaregreatfriendsnow.”
“Areyou?IthinkIrecollectthough,thatyoureadwithhisfather?”
“Yes.”
Imadetheadmissionwithreluctance,foritseemedtohaveaboyishlook,andshealreadytreatedmemorethanenoughlikeaboy.
“Sinceyourchangeoffortuneandprospects,youhavechangedyourcompanions,”saidEstella.
“Naturally,”saidI.
“Andnecessarily,”sheadded,inahaughtytone;“whatwasfitcompanyforyouonce,wouldbequiteunfitcompanyforyounow.”
Inmyconscience,IdoubtverymuchwhetherIhadanylingeringintentionleft,ofgoingtoseeJoe;butifIhad,thisobservationputittoflight.
“Youhadnoideaofyourimpendinggoodfortune,inthosetimes?”saidEstella,withaslightwaveofherhand,signifyinginthefightingtimes.
“Nottheleast.”
Theairofcompletenessandsuperioritywithwhichshewalkedatmyside,andtheairofyouthfulnessandsubmissionwithwhichIwalkedathers,madeacontrastthatIstronglyfelt.
Itwouldhaverankledinmemorethanitdid,ifIhadnotregardedmyselfaselicitingitbybeingsosetapartforherandassignedtoher.
Thegardenwastooovergrownandrankforwalkinginwithease,andafterwehadmadetheroundofittwiceorthrice,wecameoutagainintothebreweryyard.
IshowedhertoanicetywhereIhadseenherwalkingonthecasks,thatfirstoldday,andshesaid,withacoldandcarelesslookinthatdirection,“DidI?”
Iremindedherwhereshehadcomeoutofthehouseandgivenmemymeatanddrink,andshesaid,“Idon’tremember.”
“Notrememberthatyoumademecry?”saidI.“No,”saidshe,andshookherheadandlookedabouther.
Iverilybelievethathernotrememberingandnotmindingintheleast,mademecryagain,inwardly—andthatisthesharpestcryingofall.
“Youmustknow,”saidEstella,condescendingtomeasabrilliantandbeautifulwomanmight,“thatIhavenoheart—ifthathasanythingtodowithmymemory.”
IgotthroughsomejargontotheeffectthatItookthelibertyofdoubtingthat.ThatIknewbetter.Thattherecouldbenosuchbeautywithoutit.
“Oh!Ihaveahearttobestabbedinorshotin,Ihavenodoubt,”saidEstella,“and,ofcourse,ifitceasedtobeatIshouldceasetobe.ButyouknowwhatImean.
Ihavenosoftnessthere,no—sympathy—sentiment—nonsense.”
Whatwasitthatwasborneinuponmymindwhenshestoodstillandlookedattentivelyatme?
AnythingthatIhadseeninMissHavisham?No.
InsomeofherlooksandgesturestherewasthattingeofresemblancetoMissHavishamwhichmayoftenbenoticedtohavebeenacquiredbychildren,fromgrownpersonwithwhomtheyhavebeenmuchassociatedandsecluded,andwhich,whenchildhoodispassed,willproducearemarkableoccasionallikenessofexpressionbetweenfacesthatareotherwisequitedifferent.
AndyetIcouldnottracethistoMissHavisham.
Ilookedagain,andthoughshewasstilllookingatme,thesuggestionwasgone.
Whatwasit?
“Iamserious,”saidEstella,notsomuchwithafrown(forherbrowwassmooth)aswithadarkeningofherface;“ifwearetobethrownmuchtogether,youhadbetterbelieveitatonce.No!”
imperiouslystoppingmeasIopenedmylips.
“Ihavenotbestowedmytendernessanywhere.Ihaveneverhadanysuchthing.”
Inanothermomentwewereinthebrewerysolongdisused,andshepointedtothehighgallerywhereIhadseenhergoingoutonthatsamefirstday,andtoldmesherememberedtohavebeenupthere,andtohaveseenmestandingscaredbelow.
Asmyeyesfollowedherwhitehand,againthesamedimsuggestionthatIcouldnotpossiblygrasp,crossedme.
Myinvoluntarystartoccasionedhertolayherhanduponmyarm.
Instantlytheghostpassedoncemore,andwasgone.
Whatwasit?
“Whatisthematter?”askedEstella.“Areyouscaredagain?”
“Ishouldbe,ifIbelievedwhatyousaidjustnow,”Ireplied,toturnitoff.
“Thenyoudon’t?Verywell.Itissaid,atanyrate.
MissHavishamwillsoonbeexpectingyouatyouroldpost,thoughIthinkthatmightbelaidasidenow,withotheroldbelongings.
Letusmakeonemoreroundofthegarden,andthengoin.Come!
Youshallnotshedtearsformycrueltyto-day;youshallbemyPage,andgivemeyourshoulder.”
Herhandsomedresshadtrailedupontheground.
Shehelditinonehandnow,andwiththeotherlightlytouchedmyshoulderaswewalked.
Wewalkedroundtheruinedgardentwiceorthricemore,anditwasallinbloomforme.
Ifthegreenandyellowgrowthofweedinthechinksoftheoldwallhadbeenthemostpreciousflowersthateverblew,itcouldnothavebeenmorecherishedinmyremembrance.
Therewasnodiscrepancyofyearsbetweenus,toremoveherfarfromme;wewereofnearlythesameage,thoughofcoursetheagetoldformoreinhercasethaninmine;buttheairofinaccessibilitywhichherbeautyandhermannergaveher,tormentedmeinthemidstofmydelight,andattheheightoftheassuranceIfeltthatourpatronesshadchosenusforoneanother.Wretchedboy!
Atlastwewentbackintothehouse,andthereIheard,withsurprise,thatmyguardianhadcomedowntoseeMissHavishamonbusiness,andwouldcomebacktodinner.
Theoldwintrybranchesofchandeliersintheroomwherethemoulderingtablewasspread,hadbeenlightedwhilewewereout,andMissHavishamwasinherchairandwaitingforme.
Itwaslikepushingthechairitselfbackintothepast,whenwebegantheoldslowcircuitroundabouttheashesofthebridalfeast.
But,inthefunerealroom,withthatfigureofthegravefallenbackinthechairfixingitseyesuponher,Estellalookedmorebrightandbeautifulthanbefore,andIwasunderstrongerenchantment.
Thetimesomeltedaway,thatourearlydinner-hourdrewcloseathand,andEstellaleftustoprepareherself.
Wehadstoppednearthecentreofthelongtable,andMissHavisham,withoneofherwitheredarmsstretchedoutofthechair,restedthatclenchedhandupontheyellowcloth.
AsEstellalookedbackoverhershoulderbeforegoingoutatthedoor,MissHavishamkissedthathandtoher,witharavenousintensitythatwasofitskindquitedreadful.
Then,Estellabeinggoneandwetwoleftalone,sheturnedtome,andsaidinawhisper:
“Isshebeautiful,graceful,well-grown?Doyouadmireher?”
“Everybodymustwhoseesher,MissHavisham.”
Shedrewanarmroundmyneck,anddrewmyheadclosedowntohersasshesatinthechair.“Loveher,loveher,loveher!Howdoessheuseyou?”
BeforeIcouldanswer(ifIcouldhaveansweredsodifficultaquestionatall),sherepeated,“Loveher,loveher,loveher!Ifshefavoursyou,loveher.Ifshewoundsyou,loveher.
Ifshetearsyourhearttopieces—andasitgetsolderandstronger,itwillteardeeper—loveher,loveher,loveher!”
NeverhadIseensuchpassionateeagernessaswasjoinedtoherutteranceofthesewords.Icouldfeelthemusclesofthethinarmroundmyneck,swellwiththevehemencethatpossessedher.
“Hearme,Pip!Iadoptedhertobeloved.Ibredherandeducatedher,tobeloved.Idevelopedherintowhatsheis,thatshemightbeloved.Loveher!”
Shesaidthewordoftenenough,andtherecouldbenodoubtthatshemeanttosayit;butiftheoftenrepeatedwordhadbeenhateinsteadoflove—despair—revenge—diredeath—itcouldnothavesoundedfromherlipsmorelikeacurse.
“I’lltellyou,”saidshe,inthesamehurriedpassionatewhisper,“whatrealloveis.
Itisblinddevotion,unquestioningself-humiliation,uttersubmission,trustandbeliefagainstyourselfandagainstthewholeworld,givingupyourwholeheartandsoultothesmiter—asIdid!”
Whenshecametothat,andtoawildcrythatfollowedthat,Icaughtherroundthewaist.
Forsheroseupinthechair,inhershroudofadress,andstruckattheairasifshewouldassoonhavestruckherselfagainstthewallandfallendead.
Allthispassedinafewseconds.AsIdrewherdownintoherchair,IwasconsciousofascentthatIknew,andturning,sawmyguardianintheroom.
Healwayscarried(Ihavenotyetmentionedit,Ithink)apocket-handkerchiefofrichsilkandofimposingproportions,whichwasofgreatvaluetohiminhisprofession.
Ihaveseenhimsoterrifyaclientorawitnessbyceremoniouslyunfoldingthispocket-handkerchiefasifhewereimmediatelygoingtoblowhisnose,andthenpausing,asifheknewheshouldnothavetimetodoitbeforesuchclientorwitnesscommittedhimself,thattheself-committalhasfolloweddirectly,quiteasamatterofcourse.
WhenIsawhimintheroom,hehadthisexpressivepockethandkerchiefinbothhands,andwaslookingatus.
Onmeetingmyeye,hesaidplainly,byamomentaryandsilentpauseinthatattitude,“Indeed?Singular!”
andthenputthehandkerchieftoitsrightusewithwonderfuleffect.
MissHavishamhadseenhimassoonasI,andwas(likeeverybodyelse)afraidofhim.Shemadeastrongattempttocomposeherself,andstammeredthathewasaspunctualasever.
“Aspunctualasever,”herepeated,cominguptous.“(Howdoyoudo,Pip?ShallIgiveyouaride,MissHavisham?Onceround?)Andsoyouarehere,Pip?”
ItoldhimwhenIhadarrived,andhowMissHavishamhadwishedmetocomeandseeEstella.Towhichhereplied,“Ah!Veryfineyounglady!”
ThenhepushedMissHavishaminherchairbeforehim,withoneofhislargehands,andputtheotherinhistrousers-pocketasifthepocketwerefullofsecrets.
“Well,Pip!HowoftenhaveyouseenMissEstellabefore?”saidhe,whenhecametoastop.
“Howoften?”
“Ah!Howmanytimes?Tenthousandtimes?”
“Oh!Certainlynotsomany.”
“Twice?”
“Jaggers,”interposedMissHavisham,muchtomyrelief;“leavemyPipalone,andgowithhimtoyourdinner.”
Hecomplied,andwegropedourwaydownthedarkstairstogether.
Whilewewerestillonourwaytothosedetachedapartmentsacrossthepavedyardattheback,heaskedmehowoftenIhadseenMissHavishameatanddrink;offeringmeabreadthofchoice,asusual,betweenahundredtimesandonce.
Iconsidered,andsaid,“Never.”
“Andneverwill,Pip,”heretorted,withafrowningsmile.
“Shehasneverallowedherselftobeseendoingeither,sinceshelivedthispresentlifeofhers.
Shewandersaboutinthenight,andthenlayshandsonsuchfoodasshetakes.”
“Pray,sir,”saidI,“mayIaskyouaquestion?”
“Youmay,”saidhe,“andImaydeclinetoanswerit.Putyourquestion.”
“Estella’sname.IsitHavishamor—?”Ihadnothingtoadd.
“Orwhat?”saidhe.
“IsitHavisham?”
“ItisHavisham.”
Thisbroughtustothedinner-table,wheresheandSarahPocketawaitedus.
Mr.Jaggerspresided,Estellasatoppositetohim,Ifacedmygreenandyellowfriend.
Wedinedverywell,andwerewaitedonbyamaid-servantwhomIhadneverseeninallmycomingsandgoings,butwho,foranythingIknow,hadbeeninthatmysterioushousethewholetime.
Afterdinner,abottleofchoiceoldportwasplacedbeforemyguardian(hewasevidentlywellacquaintedwiththevintage),andthetwoladiesleftus.
AnythingtoequalthedeterminedreticenceofMr.Jaggersunderthatroof,Ineversawelsewhere,eveninhim.
Hekepthisverylookstohimself,andscarcelydirectedhiseyestoEstella’sfaceonceduringdinner.
Whenshespoketohim,helistened,andinduecourseanswered,butneverlookedather,thatIcouldsee.
Ontheotherhand,sheoftenlookedathim,withinterestandcuriosity,ifnotdistrust,buthisfacenever,showedtheleastconsciousness.
ThroughoutdinnerhetookadrydelightinmakingSarahPocketgreenerandyellower,byoftenreferringinconversationwithmetomyexpectations;buthere,again,heshowednoconsciousness,andevenmadeitappearthatheextorted—andevendidextort,thoughIdon’tknowhow—thosereferencesoutofmyinnocentself.
AndwhenheandIwereleftalonetogether,hesatwithanairuponhimofgenerallyingbyinconsequenceofinformationhepossessed,thatreallywastoomuchforme.
Hecross-examinedhisverywinewhenhehadnothingelseinhand.
Hehelditbetweenhimselfandthecandle,tastedtheport,rolleditinhismouth,swallowedit,lookedathisglassagain,smelttheport,triedit,drankit,filledagain,andcross-examinedtheglassagain,untilIwasasnervousasifIhadknownthewinetobetellinghimsomethingtomydisadvantage.
ThreeorfourtimesIfeeblythoughtIwouldstartconversation;butwheneverhesawmegoingtoaskhimanything,helookedatmewithhisglassinhishand,androllinghiswineaboutinhismouth,asifrequestingmetotakenoticethatitwasofnouse,forhecouldn’tanswer.
IthinkMissPocketwasconsciousthatthesightofmeinvolvedherinthedangerofbeinggoadedtomadness,andperhapstearingoffhercap—whichwasaveryhideousone,inthenatureofamuslinmop—andstrewingthegroundwithherhair—whichassuredlyhadnevergrownonherhead.
ShedidnotappearwhenweafterwardswentuptoMissHavisham’sroom,andwefourplayedatwhist.
Intheinterval,MissHavisham,inafantasticway,hadputsomeofthemostbeautifuljewelsfromherdressing-tableintoEstella’shair,andaboutherbosomandarms;andIsawevenmyguardianlookatherfromunderhisthickeyebrows,andraisethemalittle,whenherlovelinesswasbeforehim,withthoserichflushesofglitterandcolourinit.
Ofthemannerandextenttowhichhetookourtrumpsintocustody,andcameoutwithmeanlittlecardsattheendsofhands,beforewhichthegloryofourKingsandQueenswasutterlyabased,Isaynothing;nor,ofthefeelingthatIhad,respectinghislookinguponuspersonallyinthelightofthreeveryobviousandpoorriddlesthathehadfoundoutlongago.
WhatIsufferedfrom,wastheincompatibilitybetweenhiscoldpresenceandmyfeelingstowardsEstella.
ItwasnotthatIknewIcouldneverbeartospeaktohimabouther,thatIknewIcouldneverbeartohearhimcreakhisbootsather,thatIknewIcouldneverbeartoseehimwashhishandsofher;itwas,thatmyadmirationshouldbewithinafootortwoofhim—itwas,thatmyfeelingsshouldbeinthesameplacewithhim—that,wastheagonizingcircumstance.
Weplayeduntilnineo’clock,andthenitwasarrangedthatwhenEstellacametoLondonIshouldbeforewarnedofhercomingandshouldmeetheratthecoach;andthenItookleaveofher,andtouchedherandlefther.
MyguardianlayattheBoarinthenextroomtomine.
Farintothenight,MissHavisham’swords,“Loveher,loveher,loveher!”soundedinmyears.
Iadaptedthemformyownrepetition,andsaidtomypillow,“Iloveher,Iloveher,Iloveher!”hundredsoftimes.
Then,aburstofgratitudecameuponme,thatsheshouldbedestinedforme,oncetheblacksmith’sboy.
Then,Ithoughtifshewere,asIfeared,bynomeansrapturouslygratefulforthatdestinyyet,whenwouldshebegintobeinterestedinme?
WhenshouldIawakentheheartwithinher,thatwasmuteandsleepingnow?
Ahme!Ithoughtthosewerehighandgreatemotions.
ButIneverthoughttherewasanythinglowandsmallinmykeepingawayfromJoe,becauseIknewshewouldbecontemptuousofhim.
Itwasbutadaygone,andJoehadbroughtthetearsintomyeyes;theyhadsoondried,Godforgiveme!soondried.
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