blessed me and stood waving his hand to me
until I had passed the crook in the road; and
then I turned into a field and had a long
nap under a hedge before I pursued my way
home.

I had scant luggage to take with me to London,
for little of the little I possessed was
adapted to my new station. But I began packing,
that same afternoon, and wildly packed up
things that I knew I should want next morning,
in a fiction that there was not a moment to be
lost.

So, Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday,
passed, and on Friday morning I went to Mr.
Pumblechook's, to put on my new clothes and
pay my visit to Miss Havisham. Mr. Pumblechook's
own room was given up to me to dress
in, and was decorated with clean towels
expressly for the event. My clothes were rather
a disappointment, of course. Probably every new
and eagerly expected garment ever put on since
clothes came in, fell a trifle short of the wearer's
expectation. But after I had had my new suit
on, some half an hour, and had gone through an
immensity of posturing with Mr. Pumblechook's
very limited dressing-glass in the futile
endeavour to see my legs, it seemed to fit me
better. It being market morning at a
neighbouring town some ten miles off, Mr.
Pumblechook was not at home. I had not told him
exactly when I meant to leave, and was not
likely to shake hands with him again before
departing. This was all as it should be, and I
went out in my new array: fearfully ashamed of
having to pass the shopman, and suspicious after
all that I was at a personal disadvantage, something
like Joe's in his Sunday suit.

I went circuitously to Miss Havisham's by
all the back ways, and rang at the bell
constrainedly, on account of the stiff long fingers of
my gloves. Sarah Pocket came to the gate, and
positively reeled back when she saw me so
changed; her walnut-shell countenance likewise,
turned from brown to green and yellow.

"You?" said she. "You, good gracious?
What do you want?"

"I am going to London, Miss Pocket," said
I, "and want to say good-by to Miss Havisham."

I was not expected, for she left me locked in
the yard, while she went to ask if I were to be
admitted. After a very short delay, she
returned and took me up, staring at me all the
way.

Miss Havisham was taking exercise in the
room with the long spread table, leaning on her
crutched stick. The room was lighted as of
yore, and at the sound of our entrance, she
stopped and turned. She was then just abreast
of the rotted bride-cake.

"Don't go, Sarah," she said. "Well, Pip?"

"I start for London, Miss Havisham,
tomorrow," I was exceedingly careful what I said,
"and I thought you would kindly not mind my
taking leave of you."

"This is a gay figure, Pip," said she, making
her crutched stick play round me, as if she, the
fairy godmother who had changed me, were
bestowing the finishing gift.

"I have come into such good fortune since I
saw you last, Miss Havisham," I murmured.
"And I am so grateful for it, Miss Havisham!"

"Ay, ay!" said she, looking at the discomfited
and envious Sarah with delight. "I have
seen Mr. Jaggers. I have heard about it, Pip.
So you go to-morrow?"

"Yes, Miss Havisham."

"And you are adopted by a rich person?"

"Yes, Miss Havisham."

"Not named?"

"No, Miss Havisham."

"And Mr. Jaggers is made your guardian?"

"Yes, Miss Havisham."

She quite gloated on these questions and
answers, so keen was her enjoyment of Sarah
Pocket's jealous dismay. "Well!" she went
on; "you have a promising career before you.
Be good— deserve it— and abide by Mr. Jaggers's
instructions." She looked at me, and
looked at Sarah, and Sarah's countenance wrung
out of her watchful face a cruel smile. "Goodby,
Pip!— you will always keep the name of
Pip, you know."

"Yes, Miss Havisham."

"Good-by, Pip!"

She stretched out her hand, and I went down
on my knee and put it to my lips. I had not
considered how I should take leave of her; it
came naturally to me at the moment, to do this.
She looked at Sarah Pocket with triumph in her
weird eyes, and so I left my fairy godmother,
with both her hands on her crutched stick,standing
in the midst of the dimly lighted room beside
the rotten bride-cake that was hidden in
cobwebs.

Sarah Pocket conducted me down as if I were
a Ghost who must be seen out. She could not
get over my appearance, and was in the last
degree confounded. I said "Good-by, Miss
Pocket;" but she merely stared, and did not
seem collected enough to know that I had
spoken. Clear of the house, I made the best of
my way back to Pumblechook's, took off my
new clothes, made them into a bundle, and went
back home in my older dress, carrying it— to
speak the truth, much more at my ease too,
though I had the bundle to carry.

And now those six days which were to have
run out so slowly, had run out fast and were
gone, and to-morrow looked me in the face
more steadily than I could look at it. As the
six evenings had dwindled away to five, to four,
to three, to two, I had become more and more
appreciative of the society of Joe and Biddy.
On this last evening, I dressed myself out in my
new clothes for their delight, aud sat in my
splendour until bedtime. We had a hot supper
on the occasion, graced by the inevitable roast
fowl, and we had some flip to finish with. We
were all very low, and none the higher for
pretending to be in spirits.

I was to leave our village at five in the morning,
carrying my little hand-portmanteau, and