Great Expectations - Page 130/421

"Whether you scold me or approve of me," returned poor Biddy, "you may

equally depend upon my trying to do all that lies in my power, here,

at all times. And whatever opinion you take away of me, shall make

no difference in my remembrance of you. Yet a gentleman should not be

unjust neither," said Biddy, turning away her head.

I again warmly repeated that it was a bad side of human nature (in which

sentiment, waiving its application, I have since seen reason to think I

was right), and I walked down the little path away from Biddy, and

Biddy went into the house, and I went out at the garden gate and took a

dejected stroll until supper-time; again feeling it very sorrowful and

strange that this, the second night of my bright fortunes, should be as

lonely and unsatisfactory as the first.

But, morning once more brightened my view, and I extended my clemency to

Biddy, and we dropped the subject. Putting on the best clothes I had,

I went into town as early as I could hope to find the shops open,

and presented myself before Mr. Trabb, the tailor, who was having his

breakfast in the parlor behind his shop, and who did not think it worth

his while to come out to me, but called me in to him.

"Well!" said Mr. Trabb, in a hail-fellow-well-met kind of way. "How are

you, and what can I do for you?"

Mr. Trabb had sliced his hot roll into three feather-beds, and was

slipping butter in between the blankets, and covering it up. He was a

prosperous old bachelor, and his open window looked into a prosperous

little garden and orchard, and there was a prosperous iron safe let into

the wall at the side of his fireplace, and I did not doubt that heaps of

his prosperity were put away in it in bags.

"Mr. Trabb," said I, "it's an unpleasant thing to have to mention,

because it looks like boasting; but I have come into a handsome

property."

A change passed over Mr. Trabb. He forgot the butter in bed, got up from

the bedside, and wiped his fingers on the tablecloth, exclaiming, "Lord

bless my soul!"

"I am going up to my guardian in London," said I, casually drawing some

guineas out of my pocket and looking at them; "and I want a fashionable

suit of clothes to go in. I wish to pay for them," I added--otherwise I

thought he might only pretend to make them, "with ready money."