IF that staid old house near the Green at Richmond should ever
come to be haunted when I am dead, it will be haunted, surely, by my ghost. O
the many, many nights and days through which the unquiet spirit within me
haunted that house when Estella lived there! Let my body be where it would, my
spirit was always wandering, wandering, wandering, about that house.
The lady with whom Estella was placed, Mrs Brandley by name, was a widow,
with one daughter several years older than Estella. The mother looked young, and
the daughter looked old; the mother's complexion was pink, and the daughter's
was yellow; the mother set up for frivolity, and the daughter for theology. They
were in what is called a good position, and visited, and were visited by,
numbers of people. Little, if any, community of feeling subsisted between them
and Estella, but the understanding was established that they were necessary to
her, and that she was necessary to them. Mrs Brandley had been a friend of Miss
Havisham's before the time of her seclusion.
In Mrs Brandley's house and out of Mrs Brandley's house, I suffered every
kind and degree of torture that Estella could cause me. The nature of my
relations with her, which placed me on terms of familiarity without placing me
on terms of favour, conduced to my distraction. She made use of me to tease
other admirers, and she turned the very familiarity between herself and me, to
the account of putting a constant slight on my devotion to her. If I had been
her secretary, steward, half-brother, poor relation - if I had been a younger
brother of her appointed husband - I could not have seemed to myself, further
from my hopes when I was nearest to her. The privilege of calling her by her
name and hearing her call me by mine, became under the circumstances an
aggravation of my trials; and while I think it likely that it almost maddened
her other lovers, I know too certainly that it almost maddened me.
She had admirers without end. No doubt my jealousy made an admirer of every
one who went near her; but there were more than enough of them without that.
I saw her often at Richmond, I heard of her often in town, and I used often
to take her and the Brandleys on the water; there were pic-nics, fete days,
plays, operas, concerts, parties, all sorts of pleasures, through which I
pursued her - and they were all miseries to me. I never had one hour's happiness
in her society, and yet my mind all round the four-and-twenty hours was harping
on the happiness of having her with me unto death.
Throughout this part of our intercourse - and it lasted, as will presently be
seen, for what I then thought a long time - she habitually reverted to that tone
which expressed that our association was forced upon us. There were other times
when she would come to a sudden check in this tone and in all her many tones,
and would seem to pity me.
`Pip, Pip,' she said one evening, coming to such a check, when we sat apart
at a darkening window of the house in Richmond; `will you never take warning?'
`Of what?'
`Of me.'
`Warning not to be attracted by you, do you mean, Estella?'
`Do I mean! If you don't know what I mean, you are blind.'
I should have replied that Love was commonly reputed blind, but for the
reason that I always was restrained - and this was not the least of my miseries
- by a feeling that it was ungenerous to press myself upon her, when she knew
that she could not choose but obey Miss Havisham. My dread always was, that this
knowledge on her part laid me under a heavy disadvantage with her pride, and
made me the subject of a rebellious struggle in her bosom.
`At any rate,' said I, `I have no warning given me just now, for you wrote to
me to come to you, this time.'
`That's true,' said Estella, with a cold careless smile that always chilled
me.
After looking at the twilight without, for a little while, she went on to
say:
`The time has come round when Miss Havisham wishes to have me for a day at
Satis. You are to take me there, and bring me back, if you will. She would
rather I did not travel alone, and objects to receiving my maid, for she has a
sensitive horror of being talked of by such people. Can you take me?'
`Can I take you, Estella!'
`You can then? The day after to-morrow, if you please. You are to pay all
charges out of my purse, You hear the condition of your going?'
`And must obey,' said I.
This was all the preparation I received for that visit, or for others like
it: Miss Havisham never wrote to me, nor had I ever so much as seen her
handwriting. We went down on the next day but one, and we found her in the room
where I had first beheld her, and it is needless to add that there was no change
in Satis House.
She was even more dreadfully fond of Estella than she had been when I last
saw them together; I repeat the word advisedly, for there was something
positively dreadful in the energy of her looks and embraces. She hung upon
Estella's beauty, hung upon her words, hung upon her gestures, and sat mumbling
her own trembling fingers while she looked at her, as though she were devouring
the beautiful creature she had reared.
From Estella she looked at me, with a searching glance that seemed to pry
into my heart and probe its wounds. `How does she use you, Pip; how does she use
you?' she asked me again, with her witch-like eagerness, even in Estella's
hearing. But, when we sat by her flickering fire at night, she was most weird;
for then, keeping Estella's hand drawn through her arm and clutched in her own
hand, she extorted from her, by dint of referring back to what Estella had told
her in her regular letters, the names and conditions of the men whom she had
fascinated; and as Miss Havisham dwelt upon his roll, with the intensity of a
mind mortally hurt and diseased, she sat with her other hand on her crutch
stick, and her chin on that, and her wan bright eyes glaring at me, a very
spectre.
I saw in this, wretched though it made me, and bitter the sense of dependence
and even of degradation that it awakened - I saw in this, that Estella was set
to wreak Miss Havisham's revenge on men, and that she was not to be given to me
until she had gratified it for a term. I saw in this, a reason for her being
beforehand assigned to me. Sending her out to attract and torment and do
mischief, Miss Havisham sent her with the malicious assurance that she was
beyond the reach of all admirers, and that all who staked upon that cast were
secured to lose. I saw in this, that I, too, was tormented by a perversion of
ingenuity, even while the prize was reserved for me. I saw in this, the reason
for my being staved off so long, and the reason for my late guardian's declining
to commit himself to the formal knowledge of such a scheme. In a word, I saw in
this, Miss Havisham as I had her then and there before my eyes, and always had
had her before my eyes; and I saw in this, the distinct shadow of the darkened
and unhealthy house in which her life was hidden from the sun.
The candles that lighted that room of hers were placed in sconces on the
wall. They were high from the ground, and they burnt with the steady dulness of
artificial light in air that is seldom renewed. As I looked round at them, and
at the pale gloom they made, and at the stopped clock, and at the withered
articles of bridal dress upon the table and the ground, and at her own awful
figure with its ghostly reflection thrown large by the fire upon the ceiling and
the wall, I saw in everything the construction that my mind had come to,
repeated and thrown back to me. My thoughts passed into the great room across
the landing where the table was spread, and I saw it written, as it were, in the
falls of the cobwebs from the centre-piece, in the crawlings of the spiders on
the cloth, in the tracks of the mice as they betook their little quickened
hearts behind the panels, and in the gropings and pausings of the beetles on the
floor.
It happened on the occasion of this visit that some sharp words arose between
Estella and Miss Havisham. It was the first time I had ever seen them opposed.
We were seated by the fire, as just now described, and Miss Havisham still
had Estella's arm drawn through her own, and still clutched Estella's hand in
hers, when Estella gradually began to detach herself. She had shown a proud
impatience more than once before, and had rather endured that fierce affection
than accepted or returned it.
`What!' said Miss Havisham, flashing her eyes upon her, `are you tired of
me?'
`Only a little tired of myself,' replied Estella, disengaging her arm, and
moving to the great chimney-piece, where she stood looking down at the fire.
`Speak the truth, you ingrate!' cried Miss Havisham, passionately striking
her stick upon the floor; `you are tired of me.'
Estella looked at her with perfect composure, and again looked down at the
fire. Her graceful figure and her beautiful face expressed a self-possessed
indifference to the wild heat of the other, that was almost cruel.
`You stock and stone!' exclaimed Miss Havisham. `You cold, cold heart!'
`What?' said Estella, preserving her attitude of indifference as she leaned
against the great chimney-piece and only moving her eyes; `do you reproach me
for being cold? You?'
`Are you not?' was the fierce retort.
`You should know,' said Estella. `I am what you have made me. Take all the
praise, take all the blame; take all the success, take all the failure; in
short, take me.'
`O, look at her, look at her!' cried Miss Havisham, bitterly; `Look at her,
so hard and thankless, on the hearth where she was reared! Where I took her into
this wretched breast when it was first bleeding from its stabs, and where I have
lavished years of tenderness upon her!'
`At least I was no party to the compact,' said Estella, `for if I could walk
and speak, when it was made, it was as much as I could do. But what would you
have? You have been very good to me, and I owe everything to you. What would you
have?'
`Love,' replied the other.
`You have it.'
`I have not,' said Miss Havisham.
`Mother by adoption,' retorted Estella, never departing from the easy grace
of her attitude, never raising her voice as the other did, never yielding either
to anger or tenderness, `Mother by adoption, I have said that I owe everything
to you. All I possess is freely yours. All that you have given me, is at your
command to have again. Beyond that, I have nothing. And if you ask me to give
you what you never gave me, my gratitude and duty cannot do impossibilities.'
`Did I never give her love!' cried Miss Havisham, turning wildly to me. `Did
I never give her a burning love, inseparable from jealousy at all times, and
from sharp pain, while she speaks thus to me! Let her call me mad, let her call
me mad!'
`Why should I call you mad,' returned Estella, `I, of all people? Does any
one live, who knows what set purposes you have, half as well as I do? Does any
one live, who knows what a steady memory you have, half as well as I do? I who
have sat on this same hearth on the little stool that is even now beside you
there, learning your lessons and looking up into your face, when your face was
strange and frightened me!'
`Soon forgotten!' moaned Miss Havisham. `Times soon forgotten!'
`No, not forgotten,' retorted Estella. `Not forgotten, but treasured up in my
memory. When have you found me false to your teaching? When have you found me
unmindful of your lessons? When have you found me giving admission here,' she
touched her bosom with her hand, `to anything that you excluded? Be just to me.'
`So proud, so proud!' moaned Miss Havisham, pushing away her grey hair with
both her hands.
`Who taught me to be proud?' returned Estella. `Who praised me when I learnt
my lesson?'
`So hard, so hard!' moaned Miss Havisham, with her former action.
`Who taught me to be hard?' returned Estella. `Who praised me when I learnt
my lesson?'
`But to be proud and hard to me!' Miss Havisham quite shrieked, as she
stretched out her arms. `Estella, Estella, Estella, to be proud and hard to me!'
Estella looked at her for a moment with a kind of calm wonder, but was not
otherwise disturbed; when the moment was past, she looked down at the fire
again.
`I cannot think,' said Estella, raising her eyes after a silence `why you
should be so unreasonable when I come to see you after a separation. I have
never forgotten your wrongs and their causes. I have never been unfaithful to
you or your schooling. I have never shown any weakness that I can charge myself
with.'
`Would it be weakness to return my love?' exclaimed Miss Havisham. `But yes,
yes, she would call it so!'
`I begin to think,' said Estella, in a musing way, after another moment of
calm wonder, `that I almost understand how this comes about. If you had brought
up your adopted daughter wholly in the dark confinement of these rooms, and had
never let her know that there was such a thing as the daylight by which she has
never once seen your face - if you had done that, and then, for a purpose had
wanted her to understand the daylight and know all about it, you would have been
disappointed and angry?'
Miss Havisham, with her head in her hands, sat making a low moaning, and
swaying herself on her chair, but gave no answer.
`Or,' said Estella, ` - which is a nearer case - if you had taught her, from
the dawn of her intelligence, with your utmost energy and might, that there was
such a thing as daylight, but that it was made to be her enemy and destroyer,
and she must always turn against it, for it had blighted you and would else
blight her; - if you had done this, and then, for a purpose, had wanted her to
take naturally to the daylight and she could not do it, you would have been
disappointed and angry?'
Miss Havisham sat listening (or it seemed so, for I could not see her face),
but still made no answer.
`So,' said Estella, `I must be taken as I have been made. The success is not
mine, the failure is not mine, but the two together make me.'
Miss Havisham had settled down, I hardly knew how, upon the floor, among the
faded bridal relics with which it was strewn. I took advantage of the moment - I
had sought one from the first - to leave the room, after beseeching Estella's
attention to her, with a movement of my hand. When I left, Estella was yet
standing by the great chimney-piece, just as she had stood throughout. Miss
Havisham's grey hair was all adrift upon the ground, among the other bridal
wrecks, and was a miserable sight to see.
It was with a depressed heart that I walked in the starlight for an hour and
more, about the court-yard, and about the brewery, and about the ruined garden.
When I at last took courage to return to the room, I found Estella sitting at
Miss Havisham's knee, taking up some stitches in one of those old articles of
dress that were dropping to pieces, and of which I have often been reminded
since by the faded tatters of old banners that I have seen hanging up in
cathedrals. Afterwards, Estella and I played at cards, as of yore - only we were
skilful now, and played French games - and so the evening wore away, and I went
to bed.
I lay in that separate building across the court-yard. It was the first time
I had ever lain down to rest in Satis House, and sleep refused to come near me.
A thousand Miss Havishams haunted me. She was on this side of my pillow, on
that, at the head of the bed, at the foot, behind the half-opened door of the
dressing-room, in the dressing-room, in the room overhead, in the room beneath -
everywhere. At last, when the night was slow to creep on towards two o'clock, I
felt that I absolutely could no longer bear the place as a place to lie down in,
and that I must get up. I therefore got up and put on my clothes, and went out
across the yard into the long stone passage, designing to gain the outer
court-yard and walk there for the relief of my mind. But, I was no sooner in the
passage than I extinguished my candle; for, I saw Miss Havisham going along it
in a ghostly manner, making a low cry. I followed her at a distance, and saw her
go up the staircase. She carried a bare candle in her hand, which she had
probably taken from one of the sconces in her own room, and was a most unearthly
object by its light. Standing at the bottom of the staircase, I felt the
mildewed air of the feast-chamber, without seeing her open the door, and I heard
her walking there, and so across into her own room, and so across again into
that, never ceasing the low cry. After a time, I tried in the dark both to get
out, and to go back, but I could do neither until some streaks of day strayed in
and showed me where to lay my hands. During the whole interval, whenever I went
to the bottom of the staircase, I heard her footstep, saw her light pass above,
and heard her ceaseless low cry.
Before we left next day, there was no revival of the difference between her
and Estella, nor was it ever revived on any similar occasion; and there were
four similar occasions, to the best of my remembrance. Nor, did Miss Havisham's
manner towards Estella in anywise change, except that I believed it to have
something like fear infused among its former characteristics.
It is impossible to turn this leaf of my life, without putting Bentley
Drummle's name upon it; or I would, very gladly.
On a certain occasion when the Finches were assembled in force, and when good
feeling was being promoted in the usual manner by nobody's agreeing with anybody
else, the presiding Finch called the Grove to order, forasmuch as Mr Drummle had
not yet toasted a lady; which, according to the solemn constitution of the
society, it was the brute's turn to do that day. I thought I saw him leer in an
ugly way at me while the decanters were going round, but as there was no love
lost between us, that might easily be. What was my indignant surprise when he
called upon the company to pledge him to `Estella!'
`Estella who?' said I.
`Never you mind,' retorted Drummle.
`Estella of where?' said I. `You are bound to say of where.' Which he was, as
a Finch.
`Of Richmond, gentlemen,' said Drummle, putting me out of the question, `and
a peerless beauty.'
Much he knew about peerless beauties, a mean miserable idiot!I whispered
Herbert.
`I know that lady,' said Herbert, across the table, when the toast had been
honoured.
`Do you?' said Drummle.
`And so do I,' I added, with a scarlet face.
`Do you?' said Drummle. `Oh, Lord!'
This was the only retort - except glass or crockery - that the heavy creature
was capable of making; but, I became as highly incensed by it as if it had been
barbed with wit, and I immediately rose in my place and said that I could not
but regard it as being like the honourable Finch's impudence to come down to
that Grove - we always talked about coming down to that Grove, as a neat
Parliamentary turn of expression - down to that Grove, proposing a lady of whom
he knew nothing. Mr Drummle upon this, starting up, demanded what I meant by
that? Whereupon, I made him the extreme reply that I believed he knew where I
was to be found.
Whether it was possible in a Christian country to get on without blood, after
this, was a question on which the Finches were divided. The debate upon it grew
so lively, indeed, that at least six more honourable members told six more,
during the discussion, that they believed they knew where they were to be found.
However, it was decided at last (the Grove being a Court of Honour) that if Mr
Drummle would bring never so slight a certificate from the lady, importing that
he had the honour of her acquaintance, Mr Pip must express his regret, as a
gentleman and a Finch, for `having been betrayed into a warmth which.' Next day
was appointed for the production (lest our honour should take cold from delay),
and next day Drummle appeared with a polite little avowal in Estella's hand,
that she had had the honour of dancing with him several times. This left me no
course but to regret that I had been `betrayed into a warmth which,' and on the
whole to repudiate, as untenable, the idea that I was to be found anywhere.
Drummle and I then sat snorting at one another for an hour, while the Grove
engaged in indiscriminate contradiction, and finally the promotion of good
feeling was declared to have gone ahead at an amazing rate.
I tell this lightly, but it was no light thing to me. For, I cannot
adequately express what pain it gave me to think that Estella should show any
favour to a contemptible, clumsy, sulky booby, so very far below the average. To
the present moment, I believe it to have been referable to some pure fire of
generosity and disinterestedness in my love for her, that I could not endure the
thought of her stooping to that hound. No doubt I should have been miserable
whomsoever she had favoured; but a worthier object would have caused me a
different kind and degrees of distress.
It was easy for me to find out, and I did soon find out, that Drummle had
begun to follow her closely, and that she allowed him to do it. A little while,
and he was always in pursuit of her, and he and I crossed one another every day.
He held on, in a dull persistent way, and Estella held him on; now with
encouragement, now with discouragement, now almost flattering him, now openly
despising him, now knowing him very well, now scarcely remembering who he was.
The Spider, as Mr Jaggers had called him, was used to lying in wait, however,
and had the patience of his tribe. Added to that, he had a blockhead confidence
in his money and in his family greatness, which sometimes did him good service -
almost taking the place of concentration and determined purpose. So, the Spider,
doggedly watching Estella, outwatched many brighter insects, and would often
uncoil himself and drop at the right nick of time.
At a certain Assembly Ball at Richmond (there used to be Assembly Balls at
most places then), where Estella had outshone all other beauties, this
blundering Drummle so hung about her, and with so much toleration on her part,
that I resolved to speak to her concerning him. I took the next opportunity:
which was when she was waiting for Mrs Brandley to take her home, and was
sitting apart among some flowers, ready to go. I was with her, for I almost
always accompanied them to and from such places.
`Are you tired, Estella?'
`Rather, Pip.'
`You should be.'
`Say rather, I should not be; for I have my letter to Satis House to write,
before I go to sleep.'
`Recounting to-night's triumph?' said I. `Surely a very poor one, Estella.'
`What do you mean? I didn't know there had been any.'
`Estella,' said I, `do look at that fellow in the corner yonder, who is
looking over here at us.'
`Why should I look at him?' returned Estella, with her eyes on me instead.
`What is there in that fellow in the corner yonder - to use your words - that I
need look at?'
`Indeed, that is the very question I want to ask you,' said I. `For he has
been hovering about you all night.'
`Moths, and all sorts of ugly creatures,' replied Estella, with a glance
towards him, `hover about a lighted candle. Can the candle help it?'
`No,' I returned; `but cannot the Estella help it?'
`Well!' said she, laughing, after a moment, `perhaps. Yes. Anything you
like.'
`But, Estella, do hear me speak. It makes me wretched that you should
encourage a man so generally despised as Drummle. You know he is despised.'
`Well?' said she.
`You know he is as ungainly within, as without. A deficient, illtempered,
lowering, stupid fellow.'
`Well?' said she.
`You know he has nothing to recommend him but money, and a ridiculous roll of
addle-headed predecessors; now, don't you?'
`Well?' said she again; and each time she said it, she opened her lovely eyes
the wider.
To overcome the difficulty of getting past that monosyllable, I took it from
her, and said, repeating it with emphasis, `Well!Then, that is why it makes me
wretched.'
Now, if I could have believed that she favoured Drummle with any idea of
making me - me - wretched, I should have been in better heart about it; but in
that habitual way of hers, she put me so entirely out of the question, that I
could believe nothing of the kind.
`Pip,' said Estella, casting her glance over the room, `don't be foolish
about its effect on you. It may have its effect on others, and may be meant to
have. It's not worth discussing.'
`Yes it is,' said I, `because I cannot bear that people should say, "she
throws away her graces and attractions on a mere boor, the lowest in the
crowd."'
`I can bear it,' said Estella.
`Oh! don't be so proud, Estella, and so inflexible.'
`Calls me proud and inflexible in this breath!' said Estella, opening her
hands. `And in his last breath reproached me for stooping to a boor!'
`There is no doubt you do,' said I, something hurriedly, `for I have seen you
give him looks and smiles this very night, such as you never give to - me.'
`Do you want me then,' said Estella, turning suddenly with a fixed and
serious, if not angry, look, `to deceive and entrap you?'
`Do you deceive and entrap him, Estella?'
`Yes, and many others - all of them but you. Here is Mrs Brandley. I'll say
no more.'
And now that I have given the one chapter to the theme that so filled my
heart, and so often made it ache and ache again, I pass on, unhindered, to the
event that had impended over me longer yet; the event that had begun to be
prepared for, before I knew that the world held Estella, and in the days when
her baby intelligence was receiving its first distortions from Miss Havisham's
wasting hands.
In the Eastern story, the heavy slab that was to fall on the bed of state in
the flush of conquest was slowly wrought out of the quarry, the tunnel for the
rope to hold it in its place was slowly carried through the leagues of rock, the
slab was slowly raised and fitted in the roof, the rope was rove to it and
slowly taken through the miles of hollow to the great iron ring. All being made
ready with much labour, and the hour come, the sultan was aroused in the dead of
the night, and the sharpened axe that was to sever the rope from the great iron
ring was put into his hand, and he struck with it, and the rope parted and
rushed away, and the ceiling fell. So, in my case; all the work, near and afar,
that tended to the end, had been accomplished; and in an instant the blow was
struck, and the roof of my stronghold dropped upon me.
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