ite meaning to the word that I am aware of, but
used it, like his own pretended Christian name, to affront mankind, and
convey an idea of something savagely damaging. When I was younger, I
had had a general belief that if he had jiggered me personally, he would
have done it with a sharp and twisted hook.

Biddy was much against his going with us, and said to me in a whisper,
"Don't let him come; I don't like him." As I did not like him either,
I took the liberty of saying that we thanked him, but we didn't want
seeing home. He received that piece of information with a yell of
laughter, and dropped back, but came slouching after us at a little
distance.

Curious to know whether Biddy suspected him of having had a hand in
that murderous attack of which my sister had never been able to give any
account, I asked her why she did not like him.

"Oh!" she replied, glancing over her shoulder as he slouched after us,
"because I--I am afraid he likes me."

"Did he ever tell you he liked you?" I asked indignantly.

"No," said Biddy, glancing over her shoulder again, "he never told me
so; but he dances at me, whenever he can catch my eye."

However novel and peculiar this testimony of attachment, I did not
doubt the accuracy of the interpretation. I was very hot indeed upon
Old Orlick's daring to admire her; as hot as if it were an outrage on
myself.

"But it makes no difference to you, you know," said Biddy, calmly.

"No, Biddy, it makes no difference to me; only I don't like it; I don't
approve of it."

"Nor I neither," said Biddy. "Though that makes no difference to you."

"Exactly," said I; "but I must tell you I should have no opinion of you,
Biddy, if he danced at you with your own consent."

I kept an eye on Orlick after that night, and, whenever circumstances
were favorable to his dancing at Biddy, got before him to obscure that
demonstration. He had struck root in Joe's establishment, by reason
of my sister's sudden fancy for him, or I should have tried to get him
dismissed. He quite understood and reciprocated my good intentions, as I
had reason to know thereafter.

And now, because my mind was not confused enough before, I complicated
its confusion fifty thousand-fold, by having states and seasons when I
was clear that Biddy was immeasurably better than Estella, and that the
plain honest working life to which I was born had nothing in it to
be ashamed of, but offered me sufficient means of self-respect
and