Great Expectations - Page 204/421

She looked up at me suddenly, only moving her eyes, and repeated in a

grimly playful manner,-"Well?"

"I heard, Miss Havisham," said I, rather at a loss, "that you were so

kind as to wish me to come and see you, and I came directly."

"Well?"

The lady whom I had never seen before, lifted up her eyes and looked

archly at me, and then I saw that the eyes were Estella's eyes. But she

was so much changed, was so much more beautiful, so much more womanly,

in all things winning admiration, had made such wonderful advance,

that I seemed to have made none. I fancied, as I looked at her, that

I slipped hopelessly back into the coarse and common boy again. O

the sense of distance and disparity that came upon me, and the

inaccessibility that came about her!

She gave me her hand. I stammered something about the pleasure I felt in

seeing her again, and about my having looked forward to it, for a long,

long time.

"Do you find her much changed, Pip?" asked Miss Havisham, with her

greedy look, and striking her stick upon a chair that stood between

them, as a sign to me to sit down there.

"When I came in, Miss Havisham, I thought there was nothing of Estella

in the face or figure; but now it all settles down so curiously into the

old--"

"What? You are not going to say into the old Estella?" Miss Havisham

interrupted. "She was proud and insulting, and you wanted to go away

from her. Don't you remember?"

I said confusedly that that was long ago, and that I knew no better

then, and the like. Estella smiled with perfect composure, and said she

had no doubt of my having been quite right, and of her having been very

disagreeable.

"Is he changed?" Miss Havisham asked her.

"Very much," said Estella, looking at me.

"Less coarse and common?" said Miss Havisham, playing with Estella's

hair.

Estella laughed, and looked at the shoe in her hand, and laughed again,

and looked at me, and put the shoe down. She treated me as a boy still,

but she lured me on.

We sat in the dreamy room among the old strange influences which had

so wrought upon me, and I learnt that she had but just come home from

France, and that she was going to London. Proud and wilful as of old,

she had brought those qualities into such subjection to her beauty that

it was impossible and out of nature--or I thought so--to separate them

from her beauty. Truly it was impossible to dissociate her presence

from all those wretched hankerings after money and gentility that had

disturbed my boyhood,--from all those ill-regulated aspirations that had

first made me ashamed of home and Joe,--from all those visions that had

raised her face in the glowing fire, struck it out of the iron on the

anvil, extracted it from the darkness of night to look in at the wooden

window of the forge, and flit away. In a word, it was impossible for me

to separate her, in the past or in the present, from the innermost life

of my life.