ved at, stood
most amiably beaming at the ten commandments. Upon which, the clergyman
said again, "WHO giveth this woman to be married to this man?" The old
gentleman being still in a state of most estimable unconsciousness, the
bridegroom cried out in his accustomed voice, "Now Aged P. you know; who
giveth?" To which the Aged replied with great briskness, before saying
that he gave, "All right, John, all right, my boy!" And the clergyman
came to so gloomy a pause upon it, that I had doubts for the moment
whether we should get completely married that day.

It was completely done, however, and when we were going out of church
Wemmick took the cover off the font, and put his white gloves in it, and
put the cover on again. Mrs. Wemmick, more heedful of the future, put
her white gloves in her pocket and assumed her green. "Now, Mr. Pip,"
said Wemmick, triumphantly shouldering the fishing-rod as we came
out, "let me ask you whether anybody would suppose this to be a
wedding-party!"

Breakfast had been ordered at a pleasant little tavern, a mile or so
away upon the rising ground beyond the green; and there was a bagatelle
board in the room, in case we should desire to unbend our minds after
the solemnity. It was pleasant to observe that Mrs. Wemmick no longer
unwound Wemmick's arm when it adapted itself to her figure, but sat in a
high-backed chair against the wall, like a violoncello in its case, and
submitted to be embraced as that melodious instrument might have done.

We had an excellent breakfast, and when any one declined anything on
table, Wemmick said, "Provided by contract, you know; don't be afraid of
it!" I drank to the new couple, drank to the Aged, drank to the Castle,
saluted the bride at parting, and made myself as agreeable as I could.

Wemmick came down to the door with me, and I again shook hands with him,
and wished him joy.

"Thankee!" said Wemmick, rubbing his hands. "She's such a manager
of fowls, you have no idea. You shall have some eggs, and judge for
yourself. I say, Mr. Pip!" calling me back, and speaking low. "This is
altogether a Walworth sentiment, please."

"I understand. Not to be mentioned in Little Britain," said I.

Wemmick nodded. "After what you let out the other day, Mr. Jaggers
may as well not know of it. He might think my brain was softening, or
something of the kind."

Chapter LVI

He lay in prison very ill, during the whole interval between his
committal for trial and