a opened the gate as usual, and, the moment she appeared, Joe took
his hat off and stood weighing it by the brim in both his hands; as if
he had some urgent reason in his mind for being particular to half a
quarter of an ounce.

Estella took no notice of either of us, but led us the way that I knew
so well. I followed next to her, and Joe came last. When I looked back
at Joe in the long passage, he was still weighing his hat with the
greatest care, and was coming after us in long strides on the tips of
his toes.

Estella told me we were both to go in, so I took Joe by the coat-cuff
and conducted him into Miss Havisham's presence. She was seated at her
dressing-table, and looked round at us immediately.

"Oh!" said she to Joe. "You are the husband of the sister of this boy?"

I could hardly have imagined dear old Joe looking so unlike himself or
so like some extraordinary bird; standing as he did speechless, with his
tuft of feathers ruffled, and his mouth open as if he wanted a worm.

"You are the husband," repeated Miss Havisham, "of the sister of this
boy?"

It was very aggravating; but, throughout the interview, Joe persisted in
addressing Me instead of Miss Havisham.

"Which I meantersay, Pip," Joe now observed in a manner that was at
once expressive of forcible argumentation, strict confidence, and great
politeness, "as I hup and married your sister, and I were at the time
what you might call (if you was anyways inclined) a single man."

"Well!" said Miss Havisham. "And you have reared the boy, with the
intention of taking him for your apprentice; is that so, Mr. Gargery?"

"You know, Pip," replied Joe, "as you and me were ever friends, and it
were looked for'ard to betwixt us, as being calc'lated to lead to
larks. Not but what, Pip, if you had ever made objections to the
business,--such as its being open to black and sut, or such-like,--not
but what they would have been attended to, don't you see?"

"Has the boy," said Miss Havisham, "ever made any objection? Does he
like the trade?"

"Which it is well beknown to yourself, Pip," returned Joe, strengthening
his former mixture of argumentation, confidence, and politeness, "that
it were the wish of your own hart." (I saw the idea suddenly break upon
him that he would adapt his epitaph to the occasion, before he went on
to say) "And there weren't no objection on your part, and Pip it were
the great wish of your hart!"

It was quite in vain for me to ende