e fire.

"Now," said Mrs. Joe, unwrapping herself with haste and excitement, and
throwing her bonnet back on her shoulders where it hung by the strings,
"if this boy ain't grateful this night, he never will be!"

I looked as grateful as any boy possibly could, who was wholly
uninformed why he ought to assume that expression.

"It's only to be hoped," said my sister, "that he won't be Pompeyed. But
I have my fears."

"She ain't in that line, Mum," said Mr. Pumblechook. "She knows better."

She? I looked at Joe, making the motion with my lips and eyebrows,
"She?" Joe looked at me, making the motion with his lips and eyebrows,
"She?" My sister catching him in the act, he drew the back of his hand
across his nose with his usual conciliatory air on such occasions, and
looked at her.

"Well?" said my sister, in her snappish way. "What are you staring at?
Is the house afire?"

"--Which some individual," Joe politely hinted, "mentioned--she."

"And she is a she, I suppose?" said my sister. "Unless you call Miss
Havisham a he. And I doubt if even you'll go so far as that."

"Miss Havisham, up town?" said Joe.

"Is there any Miss Havisham down town?" returned my sister.

"She wants this boy to go and play there. And of course he's going. And
he had better play there," said my sister, shaking her head at me as an
encouragement to be extremely light and sportive, "or I'll work him."

I had heard of Miss Havisham up town,--everybody for miles round had
heard of Miss Havisham up town,--as an immensely rich and grim lady who
lived in a large and dismal house barricaded against robbers, and who
led a life of seclusion.

"Well to be sure!" said Joe, astounded. "I wonder how she come to know
Pip!"

"Noodle!" cried my sister. "Who said she knew him?"

"--Which some individual," Joe again politely hinted, "mentioned that
she wanted him to go and play there."

"And couldn't she ask Uncle Pumblechook if he knew of a boy to go and
play there? Isn't it just barely possible that Uncle Pumblechook may be
a tenant of hers, and that he may sometimes--we won't say quarterly
or half-yearly, for that would be requiring too much of you--but
sometimes--go there to pay his rent? And couldn't she then ask Uncle
Pumblechook if he knew of a boy to go and play there? And couldn't Uncle
Pumblechook, being always considerate and thoughtful for us--though you
may not think it, Joseph," in a tone of the deepest reproach, as if
he were the mo