while, and he was always in pursuit of her, and
he and I crossed one another every day. He
held on, in a dull persistent way, and Estella
held him on; now with encouragement, now
with discouragement, now almost flattering him,
now openly despising him, now knowing him
very well, now scarcely remembering who he
was.

The Spider, as Mr. Jaggers had called him,
was used to lying in wait, however, and had the
patience of his tribe. Added to that, he had a
blockhead confidence in his money and in his
family greatness, which sometimes did him good
service—almost taking the place of concentration
and determined purpose. So, the Spider,
doggedly watching Estella, outwatched many
brighter insects, and would often uncoil himself
and drop at the right nick of time.

At a certain Assembly Ball at Richmond
(there used to be Assembly Balls at most places
then), where Estella had outshone all other
beauties, this blundering Drummle so hung
about her, and with so much toleration on
her part, that I resolved to speak to her
concerning him. I took the next opportunity:
which was when she was waiting for Mrs.
Brandley to take her home, and was sitting
apart among some flowers, ready to go. I was
with her, for I almost always accompanied them
to and from such places.

"Are you tired, Estella?"

"Rather, Pip."

"You should be."

"Say rather, I should not be; for I have my
letter to Satis House to write, before I go to
sleep."

"Recounting to-night's triumph?" said I.
"Surely a very poor one, Estella."

"What do you mean? I didn't know there
had been any."

"Estella," said I, "do look at that fellow in
the corner yonder, who is looking over here at
us."

"Why should I look at him?" returned
Estella, with her eyes on me instead. "What
is there in that fellow in the corner yonder—to
use your words—that I need look at?"

"Indeed, that is the very question I want to
ask you," said I. "For he has been hovering
about you all night."

"Moths, and all sorts of ugly creatures,"
replied Estella, with a glance towards him,
"hover about a lighted candle. Can the candle
help it?"

"No," I returned; "but cannot the Estella
help it?"

"Well!" said she, laughing, after a moment,
"perhaps. Yes. Anything you like."

"But, Estella, do hear me speak. It makes
me wretched that you should encourage a man
so generally despised as Drummle. You know
he is despised."

"Well?" said she.

"You know he is as ungainly within, as
without. A deficient, ill-tempered, lowering,
stupid fellow."

"Well?" said she.

"You know he has nothing to recommend
him but money, and a ridiculous roll of addle-
headed predecessors; now, don't you?"

"Well?" said she again; and each time she
said it, she opened her lovely eyes the wider.

To overcome the difficulty of getting past
that monosyllable, I took it from her, and said,
repeating it with emphasis, "Well! Then, that
is why it makes me wretched."

Now, if I could have believed that she
favoured Drummle with any idea of making
me—me—wretched, I should have been in better
heart about it; but in that habitual way of
hers, she put me so entirely out of the question,
that I could believe nothing of the kind.

"Pip," said Estella, casting her glance over
the room, "don't be foolish about its effect on
you. It may have its effect on others, and
may be meant to have. It's not worth discussing."

"Yes it is," said I, "because I cannot bear
that people should say, 'she throws away her
graces and attractions on a mere boor, the lowest
in the crowd.'"

"I can bear it," said Estella.

"Oh! don't be so proud Estella, and so
inflexible."

"Calls me proud and inflexible in this breath!"
said Estella, opening her hands. "And in his
last breath reproached me for stooping to a
boor!"

"There is no doubt you do," said I,
something hurriedly, "for I have seen you give him
looks and smiles this very night, such as you
never give to—me."

"Do you want me then," said Estella, turning
suddenly with a fixed and serious, if not angry,
look, "to deceive and entrap you?"

"Do you deceive and entrap him, Estella?"

"Yes, and many others—all of them but you.
Here is Mrs. Brandley. I'll say no more."

And now that I have given the one chapter to
the theme that so filled my heart, and so often
made it ache and ache again, I pass on,
unhindered, to the event that had impended over
me longer yet; the event that had begun to be
prepared for, before I knew that the world held
Estella, and in the days when her baby intelligence
was receiving its first distortions from
Miss Havisham's wasting hands.

In the Eastern story, the heavy slab that
was to fall on the bed of state in the flush of
conquest was slowly wrought out of the quarry,
the tunnel for the rope to hold it in its place
was slowly carried through the leagues of rock,
the slab was slowly raised and fitted in the roof,
the rope was rove to it and slowly taken through
the miles of hollow to the great iron ring. All
being made ready with much labour, and the
hour come, the sultan was aroused in the dead
of the night, and the sharpened axe that was to
sever the rope from the great iron ring was put
into his hand, and he struck with it, and the
rope parted and rushed away, and the ceiling
fell. So, in my case; all the work, near and
afar, that tended to the end, had been