Charles Dickens 23 page

when I was at Hammersmith I haunted Richmond: whereof

separately by-and-by. Herbert would often come to Ham-

mersmith when I was there, and I think at those seasons

his father would occasionally have some passing perception

that the opening he was looking for, had not appeared yet.

But in the general tumbling up of the family, his tumbling

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out in life somewhere, was a thing to transact itself some-

how. In the meantime Mr. Pocket grew greyer, and tried

oftener to lift himself out of his perplexities by the hair.

While Mrs. Pocket tripped up the family with her footstool,

read her book of dignities, lost her pocket-handkerchief,

told us about her grandpapa, and taught the young idea how

to shoot, by shooting it into bed whenever it attracted her

notice.

As I am now generalizing a period of my life with the

object of clearing my way before me, I can scarcely do so

better than by at once completing the description of our

usual manners and customs at Barnard’s Inn.

We spent as much money as we could, and got as little for

it as people could make up their minds to give us. We were

always more or less miserable, and most of our acquain-

tance were in the same condition. There was a gay fiction

among us that we were constantly enjoying ourselves, and

a skeleton truth that we never did. To the best of my belief,

our case was in the last aspect a rather common one.

Every morning, with an air ever new, Herbert went into

the City to look about him. I often paid him a visit in the

dark back-room in which he consorted with an ink-jar, a

hat-peg, a coal-box, a string-box, an almanack, a desk and

stool, and a ruler; and I do not remember that I ever saw

him do anything else but look about him. If we all did what

we undertake to do, as faithfully as Herbert did, we might

live in a Republic of the Virtues. He had nothing else to

do, poor fellow, except at a certain hour of every afternoon

to ‘go to Lloyd’s’ - in observance of a ceremony of seeing

Great Expectations

his principal, I think. He never did anything else in con-

nexion with Lloyd’s that I could find out, except come back

again. When he felt his case unusually serious, and that he

positively must find an opening, he would go on ‘Change

at a busy time, and walk in and out, in a kind of gloomy

country dance figure, among the assembled magnates. ‘For,’

says Herbert to me, coming home to dinner on one of those

special occasions, ‘I find the truth to be, Handel, that an

opening won’t come to one, but one must go to it - so I have

been.’

If we had been less attached to one another, I think we

must have hated one another regularly every morning. I

detested the chambers beyond expression at that period of

repentance, and could not endure the sight of the Avenger’s

livery: which had a more expensive and a less remunerative

appearance then, than at any other time in the four-and-

twenty hours. As we got more and more into debt breakfast

became a hollower and hollower form, and, being on one

occasion at breakfast-time threatened (by letter) with legal

proceedings, ‘not unwholly unconnected,’ as my local pa-

per might put it, ‘with jewellery,’ I went so far as to seize the

Avenger by his blue collar and shake him off his feet - so that

he was actually in the air, like a booted Cupid - for presum-

ing to suppose that we wanted a roll.

At certain times - meaning at uncertain times, for they

depended on our humour - I would say to Herbert, as if it

were a remarkable discovery:

‘My dear Herbert, we are getting on badly.’

‘My dear Handel,’ Herbert would say to me, in all sincer-

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ity, if you will believe me, those very words were on my lips,

by a strange coincidence.’

‘Then, Herbert,’ I would respond, ‘let us look into out af-

fairs.’

We always derived profound satisfaction from making

an appointment for this purpose. I always thought this was

business, this was the way to confront the thing, this was

the way to take the foe by the throat. And I know Herbert

thought so too.

We ordered something rather special for dinner, with a

bottle of something similarly out of the common way, in

order that our minds might be fortified for the occasion,

and we might come well up to the mark. Dinner over, we

produced a bundle of pens, a copious supply of ink, and a

goodly show of writing and blotting paper. For, there was

something very comfortable in having plenty of stationery.

I would then take a sheet of paper, and write across

the top of it, in a neat hand, the heading, ‘Memorandum

of Pip’s debts;’ with Barnard’s Inn and the date very care-

fully added. Herbert would also take a sheet of paper, and

write across it with similar formalities, ‘Memorandum of

Herbert’s debts.’

Each of us would then refer to a confused heap of pa-

pers at his side, which had been thrown into drawers, worn

into holes in Pockets, half-burnt in lighting candles, stuck

for weeks into the looking-glass, and otherwise damaged.

The sound of our pens going, refreshed us exceedingly, in-

somuch that I sometimes found it difficult to distinguish

between this edifying business proceeding and actually

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paying the money. In point of meritorious character, the

two things seemed about equal.

When we had written a little while, I would ask Herbert

how he got on? Herbert probably would have been scratch-

ing his head in a most rueful manner at the sight of his

accumulating figures.

‘They are mounting up, Handel,’ Herbert would say;

‘upon my life, they are mounting up.’

‘Be firm, Herbert,’ I would retort, plying my own pen

with great assiduity. ‘Look the thing in the face. Look into

your affairs. Stare them out of countenance.’

‘So I would, Handel, only they are staring me out of

countenance.’

However, my determined manner would have its effect,

and Herbert would fall to work again. After a time he would

give up once more, on the plea that he had not got Cobbs’s

bill, or Lobbs’s, or Nobbs’s, as the case might be.

‘Then, Herbert, estimate; estimate it in round numbers,

and put it down.’

‘What a fellow of resource you are!’ my friend would re-

ply, with admiration. ‘Really your business powers are very

remarkable.’

I thought so too. I established with myself on these

occasions, the reputation of a first-rate man of business -

prompt, decisive, energetic, clear, cool-headed. When I had

got all my responsibilities down upon my list, I compared

each with the bill, and ticked it off. My self-approval when

I ticked an entry was quite a luxurious sensation. When I

had no more ticks to make, I folded all my bills up uni-

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formly, docketed each on the back, and tied the whole into a

symmetrical bundle. Then I did the same for Herbert (who

modestly said he had not my administrative genius), and

felt that I had brought his affairs into a focus for him.

My business habits had one other bright feature, which i

called ‘leaving a Margin.’ For example; supposing Herbert’s

debts to be one hundred and sixty-four pounds four-and-

twopence, I would say, ‘Leave a margin, and put them down

at two hundred.’ Or, supposing my own to be four times as

much, I would leave a margin, and put them down at seven

hundred. I had the highest opinion of the wisdom of this

same Margin, but I am bound to acknowledge that on look-

ing back, I deem it to have been an expensive device. For,

we always ran into new debt immediately, to the full extent

of the margin, and sometimes, in the sense of freedom and

solvency it imparted, got pretty far on into another margin.

But there was a calm, a rest, a virtuous hush, consequent

on these examinations of our affairs that gave me, for the

time, an admirable opinion of myself. Soothed by my exer-

tions, my method, and Herbert’s compliments, I would sit

with his symmetrical bundle and my own on the table be-

fore me among the stationary, and feel like a Bank of some

sort, rather than a private individual.

We shut our outer door on these solemn occasions, in

order that we might not be interrupted. I had fallen into my

serene state one evening, when we heard a letter dropped

through the slit in the said door, and fall on the ground. ‘It’s

for you, Handel,’ said Herbert, going out and coming back

with it, ‘and I hope there is nothing the matter.’ This was in

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allusion to its heavy black seal and border.

The letter was signed TRABB & CO., and its contents were

simply, that I was an honoured sir, and that they begged to

inform me that Mrs. J. Gargery had departed this life on

Monday last, at twenty minutes past six in the evening, and

that my attendance was requested at the interment on Mon-

day next at three o’clock in the afternoon.

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Chapter 35

It was the first time that a grave had opened in my road of

life, and the gap it made in the smooth ground was won-

derful. The figure of my sister in her chair by the kitchen

fire, haunted me night and day. That the place could possi-

bly be, without her, was something my mind seemed unable

to compass; and whereas she had seldom or never been in

my thoughts of late, I had now the strangest ideas that she

was coming towards me in the street, or that she would

presently knock at the door. In my rooms too, with which

she had never been at all associated, there was at once the

blankness of death and a perpetual suggestion of the sound

of her voice or the turn of her face or figure, as if she were

still alive and had been often there.

Whatever my fortunes might have been, I could scarcely

have recalled my sister with much tenderness. But I sup-

pose there is a shock of regret which may exist without

much tenderness. Under its influence (and perhaps to make

up for the want of the softer feeling) I was seized with a vio-

lent indignation against the assailant from whom she had

suffered so much; and I felt that on sufficient proof I could

have revengefully pursued Orlick, or any one else, to the

last extremity.

Having written to Joe, to offer consolation, and to assure

him that I should come to the funeral, I passed the inter-

Great Expectations

mediate days in the curious state of mind I have glanced at.

I went down early in the morning, and alighted at the Blue

Boar in good time to walk over to the forge.

It was fine summer weather again, and, as I walked along,

the times when I was a little helpless creature, and my sis-

ter did not spare me, vividly returned. But they returned

with a gentle tone upon them that softened even the edge

of Tickler. For now, the very breath of the beans and clo-

ver whispered to my heart that the day must come when it

would be well for my memory that others walking in the

sunshine should be softened as they thought of me.

At last I came within sight of the house, and saw that

Trabb and Co. had put in a funereal execution and taken

possession. Two dismally absurd persons, each ostenta-

tiously exhibiting a crutch done up in a black bandage - as if

that instrument could possibly communicate any comfort

to anybody - were posted at the front door; and in one of

them I recognized a postboy discharged from the Boar for

turning a young couple into a sawpit on their bridal morn-

ing, in consequence of intoxication rendering it necessary

for him to ride his horse clasped round the neck with both

arms. All the children of the village, and most of the women,

were admiring these sable warders and the closed windows

of the house and forge; and as I came up, one of the two

warders (the postboy) knocked at the door - implying that

I was far too much exhausted by grief, to have strength re-

maining to knock for myself.

Another sable warder (a carpenter, who had once eaten

two geese for a wager) opened the door, and showed me into

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the best parlour. Here, Mr. Trabb had taken unto himself

the best table, and had got all the leaves up, and was holding

a kind of black Bazaar, with the aid of a quantity of black

pins. At the moment of my arrival, he had just finished put-

ting somebody’s hat into black long-clothes, like an African

baby; so he held out his hand for mine. But I, misled by the

action, and confused by the occasion, shook hands with

him with every testimony of warm affection.

Poor dear Joe, entangled in a little black cloak tied in

a large bow under his chin, was seated apart at the upper

end of the room; where, as chief mourner, he had evidently

been stationed by Trabb. When I bent down and said to him,

‘Dear Joe, how are you?’ he said, ‘Pip, old chap, you knowed

her when she were a fine figure of a—’ and clasped my hand

and said no more.

Biddy, looking very neat and modest in her black dress,

went quietly here and there, and was very helpful. When I

had spoken to Biddy, as I thought it not a time for talking I

went and sat down near Joe, and there began to wonder in

what part of the house it - she - my sister - was. The air of the

parlour being faint with the smell of sweet cake, I looked

about for the table of refreshments; it was scarcely visible

until one had got accustomed to the gloom, but there was

a cut-up plum-cake upon it, and there were cut-up orang-

es, and sandwiches, and biscuits, and two decanters that I

knew very well as ornaments, but had never seen used in all

my life; one full of port, and one of sherry. Standing at this

table, I became conscious of the servile Pumblechook in a

black cloak and several yards of hatband, who was alter-

Great Expectations

nately stuffing himself, and making obsequious movements

to catch my attention. The moment he succeeded, he came

over to me (breathing sherry and crumbs), and said in a

subdued voice, ‘May I, dear sir?’ and did. I then descried

Mr. and Mrs. Hubble; the last-named in a decent speech-

less paroxysm in a corner. We were all going to ‘follow,’ and

were all in course of being tied up separately (by Trabb) into

ridiculous bundles.

‘Which I meantersay, Pip,’ Joe whispered me, as we were

being what Mr. Trabb called ‘formed’ in the parlour, two

and two - and it was dreadfully like a preparation for some

grim kind of dance; ‘which I meantersay, sir, as I would in

preference have carried her to the church myself, along with

three or four friendly ones wot come to it with willing harts

and arms, but it were considered wot the neighbours would

look down on such and would be of opinions as it were

wanting in respect.’

‘Pocket-handkerchiefs out, all!’ cried Mr. Trabb at this

point, in a depressed business-like voice. ‘Pocket-handker-

chiefs out! We are ready!’

So, we all put our pocket-handkerchiefs to our faces, as

if our noses were bleeding, and filed out two and two; Joe

and I; Biddy and Pumblechook; Mr. and Mrs. Hubble. The

remains of my poor sister had been brought round by the

kitchen door, and, it being a point of Undertaking ceremo-

ny that the six bearers must be stifled and blinded under

a horrible black velvet housing with a white border, the

whole looked like a blind monster with twelve human legs,

shuffling and blundering along, under the guidance of two

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keepers - the postboy and his comrade.

The neighbourhood, however, highly approved of these

arrangements, and we were much admired as we went

through the village; the more youthful and vigorous part

of the community making dashes now and then to cut us

off, and lying in wait to intercept us at points of vantage. At

such times the more exuberant among them called out in

an excited manner on our emergence round some corner of

expectancy, ‘Here they come!’ ‘Here they are!’ and we were

all but cheered. In this progress I was much annoyed by

the abject Pumblechook, who, being behind me, persisted

all the way as a delicate attention in arranging my stream-

ing hatband, and smoothing my cloak. My thoughts were

further distracted by the excessive pride of Mr. and Mrs.

Hubble, who were surpassingly conceited and vainglorious

in being members of so distinguished a procession.

And now, the range of marshes lay clear before us, with

the sails of the ships on the river growing out of it; and we

went into the churchyard, close to the graves of my un-

known parents, Philip Pirrip, late of this parish, and Also

Georgiana, Wife of the Above. And there, my sister was laid

quietly in the earth while the larks sang high above it, and

the light wind strewed it with beautiful shadows of clouds

and trees.

Of the conduct of the worldly-minded Pumblechook

while this was doing, I desire to say no more than it was all

addressed to me; and that even when those noble passages

were read which remind humanity how it brought nothing

into the world and can take nothing out, and how it fleeth

Great Expectations

like a shadow and never continueth long in one stay, I heard

him cough a reservation of the case of a young gentleman

who came unexpectedly into large property. When we got

back, he had the hardihood to tell me that he wished my sis-

ter could have known I had done her so much honour, and

to hint that she would have considered it reasonably pur-

chased at the price of her death. After that, he drank all the

rest of the sherry, and Mr. Hubble drank the port, and the

two talked (which I have since observed to be customary in

such cases) as if they were of quite another race from the

deceased, and were notoriously immortal. Finally, he went

away with Mr. and Mrs. Hubble - to make an evening of

it, I felt sure, and to tell the Jolly Bargemen that he was the

founder of my fortunes and my earliest benefactor.

When they were all gone, and when Trabb and his men

- but not his boy: I looked for him - had crammed their

mummery into bags, and were gone too, the house felt

wholesomer. Soon afterwards, Biddy, Joe, and I, had a cold

dinner together; but we dined in the best parlour, not in

the old kitchen, and Joe was so exceedingly particular what

he did with his knife and fork and the saltcellar and what

not, that there was great restraint upon us. But after din-

ner, when I made him take his pipe, and when I had loitered

with him about the forge, and when we sat down together

on the great block of stone outside it, we got on better. I no-

ticed that after the funeral Joe changed his clothes so far, as

to make a compromise between his Sunday dress and work-

ing dress: in which the dear fellow looked natural, and like

the Man he was.

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He was very much pleased by my asking if I might sleep

in my own little room, and I was pleased too; for, I felt that I

had done rather a great thing in making the request. When

the shadows of evening were closing in, I took an opportu-

nity of getting into the garden with Biddy for a little talk.

‘Biddy,’ said I, ‘I think you might have written to me

about these sad matters.’

‘Do you, Mr. Pip?’ said Biddy. ‘I should have written if I

had thought that.’

‘Don’t suppose that I mean to be unkind, Biddy, when I

say I consider that you ought to have thought that.’

‘Do you, Mr. Pip?’

She was so quiet, and had such an orderly, good, and

pretty way with her, that I did not like the thought of mak-

ing her cry again. After looking a little at her downcast eyes

as she walked beside me, I gave up that point.

‘I suppose it will be difficult for you to remain here now,

Biddy dear?’

‘Oh! I can’t do so, Mr. Pip,’ said Biddy, in a tone of regret,

but still of quiet conviction. ‘I have been speaking to Mrs.

Hubble, and I am going to her to-morrow. I hope we shall

be able to take some care of Mr. Gargery, together, until he

settles down.’

‘How are you going to live, Biddy? If you want any mo—‘

‘How am I going to live?’ repeated Biddy, striking in,

with a momentary flush upon her face. ‘I’ll tell you, Mr. Pip.

I am going to try to get the place of mistress in the new

school nearly finished here. I can be well recommended by

all the neighbours, and I hope I can be industrious and pa-

Great Expectations

tient, and teach myself while I teach others. You know, Mr.

Pip,’ pursued Biddy, with a smile, as she raised her eyes to

my face, ‘the new schools are not like the old, but I learnt a

good deal from you after that time, and have had time since

then to improve.’

‘I think you would always improve, Biddy, under any cir-

cumstances.’

‘Ah! Except in my bad side of human nature,’ murmured

Biddy.

It was not so much a reproach, as an irresistible think-

ing aloud. Well! I thought I would give up that point too. So,

I walked a little further with Biddy, looking silently at her

downcast eyes.

‘I have not heard the particulars of my sister’s death, Bid-

dy.’‘They are very slight, poor thing. She had been in one of

her bad states - though they had got better of late, rather

than worse - for four days, when she came out of it in the

evening, just at teatime, and said quite plainly, ‘Joe.’ As she

had never said any word for a long while, I ran and fetched

in Mr. Gargery from the forge. She made signs to me that

she wanted him to sit down close to her, and wanted me

to put her arms round his neck. So I put them round his

neck, and she laid her head down on his shoulder quite con-

tent and satisfied. And so she presently said ‘Joe’ again, and

once ‘Pardon,’ and once ‘Pip.’ And so she never lifted her

head up any more, and it was just an hour later when we laid

it down on her own bed, because we found she was gone.’

Biddy cried; the darkening garden, and the lane, and the

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stars that were coming out, were blurred in my own sight.

‘Nothing was ever discovered, Biddy?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Do you know what is become of Orlick?’

‘I should think from the colour of his clothes that he is

working in the quarries.’

‘Of course you have seen him then? - Why are you look-

ing at that dark tree in the lane?’

‘I saw him there, on the night she died.’

‘That was not the last time either, Biddy?’

‘No; I have seen him there, since we have been walking

here. - It is of no use,’ said Biddy, laying her hand upon my

arm, as I was for running out, ‘you know I would not de-

ceive you; he was not there a minute, and he is gone.’

It revived my utmost indignation to find that she was

still pursued by this fellow, and I felt inveterate against him.

I told her so, and told her that I would spend any money or

take any pains to drive him out of that country. By degrees

she led me into more temperate talk, and she told me how

Joe loved me, and how Joe never complained of anything

- she didn’t say, of me; she had no need; I knew what she

meant - but ever did his duty in his way of life, with a strong

hand, a quiet tongue, and a gentle heart.

‘Indeed, it would be hard to say too much for him,’ said

I; ‘and Biddy, we must often speak of these things, for of

course I shall be often down here now. I am not going to

leave poor Joe alone.’

Biddy said never a single word.

‘Biddy, don’t you hear me?’

Great Expectations

‘Yes, Mr. Pip.’

‘Not to mention your calling me Mr. Pip - which appears

to me to be in bad taste, Biddy - what do you mean?’

‘What do I mean?’ asked Biddy, timidly.

‘Biddy,’ said I, in a virtuously self-asserting manner, ‘I

must request to know what you mean by this?’

‘By this?’ said Biddy.

‘Now, don’t echo,’ I retorted. ‘You used not to echo, Bid-

dy.’‘Used not!’ said Biddy. ‘O Mr. Pip! Used!’

Well! I rather thought I would give up that point too. Af-

ter another silent turn in the garden, I fell back on the main

position.

‘Biddy,’ said I, ‘I made a remark respecting my com-

ing down here often, to see Joe, which you received with a

marked silence. Have the goodness, Biddy, to tell me why.’

‘Are you quite sure, then, that you WILL come to see him

often?’ asked Biddy, stopping in the narrow garden walk,

and looking at me under the stars with a clear and honest

eye.‘Oh dear me!’ said I, as if I found myself compelled to

give up Biddy in despair. ‘This really is a very bad side of hu-

man nature! Don’t say any more, if you please, Biddy. This

shocks me very much.’

For which cogent reason I kept Biddy at a distance dur-

ing supper, and, when I went up to my own old little room,

took as stately a leave of her as I could, in my murmuring

soul, deem reconcilable with the churchyard and the event

of the day. As often as I was restless in the night, and that

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was every quarter of an hour, I reflected what an unkind-

ness, what an injury, what an injustice, Biddy had done me.

Early in the morning, I was to go. Early in the morning, I

was out, and looking in, unseen, at one of the wooden win-

dows of the forge. There I stood, for minutes, looking at Joe,

already at work with a glow of health and strength upon his

face that made it show as if the bright sun of the life in store

for him were shining on it.

‘Good-bye, dear Joe! - No, don’t wipe it off - for God’s

sake, give me your blackened hand! - I shall be down soon,

and often.’

‘Never too soon, sir,’ said Joe, ‘and never too often, Pip!’

Biddy was waiting for me at the kitchen door, with a mug

of new milk and a crust of bread. ‘Biddy,’ said I, when I gave

her my hand at parting, ‘I am not angry, but I am hurt.’

‘No, don’t be hurt,’ she pleaded quite pathetically; ‘let

only me be hurt, if I have been ungenerous.’

Once more, the mists were rising as I walked away. If

they disclosed to me, as I suspect they did, that I should not

come back, and that Biddy was quite right, all I can say is

- they were quite right too.

Great Expectations

Chapter 36

Herbert and I went on from bad to worse, in the way of

increasing our debts, looking into our affairs, leaving

Margins, and the like exemplary transactions; and Time

went on, whether or no, as he has a way of doing; and I came

of age - in fulfilment of Herbert’s prediction, that I should

do so before I knew where I was.

Herbert himself had come of age, eight months before

me. As he had nothing else than his majority to come into,

the event did not make a profound sensation in Barnard’s

Inn. But we had looked forward to my one-and-twentieth

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