Great Expectations - Page 409/421

"Pip," said Joe, appearing a little hurried and troubled, "there has

been larks. And, dear sir, what have been betwixt us--have been."

At night, when I had gone to bed, Joe came into my room, as he had done

all through my recovery. He asked me if I felt sure that I was as well

as in the morning?

"Yes, dear Joe, quite."

"And are always a getting stronger, old chap?"

"Yes, dear Joe, steadily."

Joe patted the coverlet on my shoulder with his great good hand, and

said, in what I thought a husky voice, "Good night!"

When I got up in the morning, refreshed and stronger yet, I was full of

my resolution to tell Joe all, without delay. I would tell him before

breakfast. I would dress at once and go to his room and surprise him;

for, it was the first day I had been up early. I went to his room, and

he was not there. Not only was he not there, but his box was gone.

I hurried then to the breakfast-table, and on it found a letter. These

were its brief contents:-"Not wishful to intrude I have departured fur you are well again dear

Pip and will do better without JO.

"P.S. Ever the best of friends."

Enclosed in the letter was a receipt for the debt and costs on which I

had been arrested. Down to that moment, I had vainly supposed that my

creditor had withdrawn, or suspended proceedings until I should be quite

recovered. I had never dreamed of Joe's having paid the money; but Joe

had paid it, and the receipt was in his name.

What remained for me now, but to follow him to the dear old forge, and

there to have out my disclosure to him, and my penitent remonstrance

with him, and there to relieve my mind and heart of that reserved

Secondly, which had begun as a vague something lingering in my thoughts,

and had formed into a settled purpose?

The purpose was, that I would go to Biddy, that I would show her how

humbled and repentant I came back, that I would tell her how I had lost

all I once hoped for, that I would remind her of our old confidences in

my first unhappy time. Then I would say to her, "Biddy, I think you once

liked me very well, when my errant heart, even while it strayed away

from you, was quieter and better with you than it ever has been since.

If you can like me only half as well once more, if you can take me with

all my faults and disappointments on my head, if you can receive me like

a forgiven child (and indeed I am as sorry, Biddy, and have as much need

of a hushing voice and a soothing hand), I hope I am a little worthier

of you that I was,--not much, but a little. And, Biddy, it shall rest

with you to say whether I shall work at the forge with Joe, or whether I

shall try for any different occupation down in this country, or whether

we shall go away to a distant place where an opportunity awaits me which

I set aside, when it was offered, until I knew your answer. And now,

dear Biddy, if you can tell me that you will go through the world with

me, you will surely make it a better world for me, and me a better man

for it, and I will try hard to make it a better world for you."