to slip off home.

_II.--I Meet Estella_

I must have been about ten years old when I went to Miss Havisham's, and
first met Estella.

My uncle Pumblechook, who kept a cornchandler's shop in the high-street
of the town, took me to the large old, dismal house, which had all its
windows barred. For miles round everybody had heard of Miss Havisham as
an immensely rich and grim lady who led a life of seclusion; and
everybody soon knew that Mr. Pumblechook had been commissioned to bring
her a boy.

He left me at the courtyard, and a young lady, who was very pretty and
seemed very proud, let me in, and I noticed that the passages were all
dark, and that there was a candle burning. My guide, who called me
"boy," but was really about my own age, was as scornful of me as if she
had been one-and-twenty, and a queen. She led me to Miss Havisham's
room, and there, in an armchair, with her elbow resting on the table,
sat the strangest lady I have ever seen, or shall ever see.

She was dressed in rich materials--satins and lace and silks--all of
white--or rather, which had been white, but, like all else in the room,
were now faded yellow. Her shoes were white, and she had a long white
veil dependent from her hair, and bridal flowers in her hair; but her
hair was white. I saw that the bride within the bridal dress had
withered like the dress.

"Who is it?" said the lady at the table.

"Pip, ma'am. Mr. Pumblechook's boy."

"Come nearer; let me look at you; come close. You are not afraid of a
woman who has never seen the sun since you were born?"

"No, ma'am."

"Do you know what I touch here?" she said, laying her hands, one upon
the other, on her left side.

"Yes, ma'am; your heart."

"Broken!" She was silent for a little while, and then added, "I am
tired; I want diversion. Play, play, play!"

What was an unfortunate boy to do? I didn't know how to play.

"Call Estella," said the lady. "Call Estella, at the door."

It was a dreadful thing to be bawling "Estella" to a scornful young lady
in a mysterious passage in an unknown house, but I had to do it. And
Estella came, and I heard her say, in answer to Miss Havisham, "Play
with this boy! Why, he is a common labouring boy!"

I thought I overheard Miss Havisham answer, "Well? You can break his
heart."

We played at beggar my neighbour, and before the game was out Estella
said disdainfully, "He calls the knaves Jacks, this boy! And what coarse
hands he has! And