Great Expectations - Page 124/421

Infinite pains were then taken by Biddy to convey to my sister some idea

of what had happened. To the best of my belief, those efforts entirely

failed. She laughed and nodded her head a great many times, and even

repeated after Biddy, the words "Pip" and "Property." But I doubt if

they had more meaning in them than an election cry, and I cannot suggest

a darker picture of her state of mind.

I never could have believed it without experience, but as Joe and

Biddy became more at their cheerful ease again, I became quite gloomy.

Dissatisfied with my fortune, of course I could not be; but it is

possible that I may have been, without quite knowing it, dissatisfied

with myself.

Any how, I sat with my elbow on my knee and my face upon my hand,

looking into the fire, as those two talked about my going away, and

about what they should do without me, and all that. And whenever I

caught one of them looking at me, though never so pleasantly (and they

often looked at me,--particularly Biddy), I felt offended: as if they

were expressing some mistrust of me. Though Heaven knows they never did

by word or sign.

At those times I would get up and look out at the door; for our kitchen

door opened at once upon the night, and stood open on summer evenings to

air the room. The very stars to which I then raised my eyes, I am afraid

I took to be but poor and humble stars for glittering on the rustic

objects among which I had passed my life.

"Saturday night," said I, when we sat at our supper of bread and cheese

and beer. "Five more days, and then the day before the day! They'll soon

go."

"Yes, Pip," observed Joe, whose voice sounded hollow in his beer-mug.

"They'll soon go."

"Soon, soon go," said Biddy.

"I have been thinking, Joe, that when I go down town on Monday, and

order my new clothes, I shall tell the tailor that I'll come and put

them on there, or that I'll have them sent to Mr. Pumblechook's. It

would be very disagreeable to be stared at by all the people here."

"Mr. and Mrs. Hubble might like to see you in your new gen-teel figure

too, Pip," said Joe, industriously cutting his bread, with his cheese on

it, in the palm of his left hand, and glancing at my untasted supper

as if he thought of the time when we used to compare slices. "So might

Wopsle. And the Jolly Bargemen might take it as a compliment."