Great Expectations - Page 23/421

Joe offered me more gravy, which I was afraid to take.

"He was a world of trouble to you, ma'am," said Mrs. Hubble,

commiserating my sister.

"Trouble?" echoed my sister; "trouble?" and then entered on a fearful

catalogue of all the illnesses I had been guilty of, and all the acts

of sleeplessness I had committed, and all the high places I had tumbled

from, and all the low places I had tumbled into, and all the injuries I

had done myself, and all the times she had wished me in my grave, and I

had contumaciously refused to go there.

I think the Romans must have aggravated one another very much, with

their noses. Perhaps, they became the restless people they were, in

consequence. Anyhow, Mr. Wopsle's Roman nose so aggravated me, during

the recital of my misdemeanours, that I should have liked to pull it

until he howled. But, all I had endured up to this time was nothing in

comparison with the awful feelings that took possession of me when the

pause was broken which ensued upon my sister's recital, and in which

pause everybody had looked at me (as I felt painfully conscious) with

indignation and abhorrence.

"Yet," said Mr. Pumblechook, leading the company gently back to the

theme from which they had strayed, "Pork--regarded as biled--is rich,

too; ain't it?"

"Have a little brandy, uncle," said my sister.

O Heavens, it had come at last! He would find it was weak, he would say

it was weak, and I was lost! I held tight to the leg of the table under

the cloth, with both hands, and awaited my fate.

My sister went for the stone bottle, came back with the stone bottle,

and poured his brandy out: no one else taking any. The wretched man

trifled with his glass,--took it up, looked at it through the light,

put it down,--prolonged my misery. All this time Mrs. Joe and Joe were

briskly clearing the table for the pie and pudding.

I couldn't keep my eyes off him. Always holding tight by the leg of the

table with my hands and feet, I saw the miserable creature finger his

glass playfully, take it up, smile, throw his head back, and drink

the brandy off. Instantly afterwards, the company were seized with

unspeakable consternation, owing to his springing to his feet, turning

round several times in an appalling spasmodic whooping-cough dance,

and rushing out at the door; he then became visible through the window,

violently plunging and expectorating, making the most hideous faces, and

apparently out of his mind.