ed and hurt that tears sprang to my eyes. When
she saw them she looked at me with a quick delight. This gave me the power
to keep them back and to look at her; then she gave a contemptuous toss of
her head, and left me to my meal. At first, so bitter were my feelings
that, after she was gone, I hid behind one of the gates to the brewery and
cried. As I cried I kicked the wall and took a hard twist at my hair.
However, I came out from behind the gate, the bread and meat were
acceptable and the beer was warm and tingling, and I was soon in spirits
to look about me. I had surveyed the rank old garden when Estella came
back with the keys to let me out. She gave me a triumphant look as she
opened the gate. I was passing out without looking at her, when she
touched me with a taunting cry,----

"Why don't you cry?"

"Because I don't want to."

"You do," she said; "you have been crying and you are near crying now!" As
she spoke she laughed, pushed me out, and locked the gate upon me, and I
set off on the four-mile walk home, pondering as I went along, on what I
had seen and heard.

Of course, when I reached home they were very curious to know all about
Miss Havisham's, and asked many questions that I was not in a mood to
answer. The worst of it was that Uncle Pumblechook, devoured by curiosity,
came gaping over too at tea-time to have the details divulged to him. I
was not in a good humour anyway that night, so the sight of my tormentors
made me vicious in my reticence.

After asking a number of questions with no satisfaction, Uncle Pumblechook
began again.

"Now, boy," he said, "what was Miss Havisham a-doing of when you went in
to-day?"

"She was sitting," I answered, "in a black velvet coach."

My hearers stared at one another--as they well might--and repeated, "In a
black velvet coach?"

"Yes," said I, "and Miss Estella, that's her niece, I think, handed her in
cake and wine at the coach window on a gold plate. And we all had cake and
wine on gold plates. And I got up behind the coach to eat mine because she
told me to."

"Was anybody else there?" asked Mr. Pumblechook.

"Four dogs," said I.

"Large or small?"

"Immense," said I. "And they fought for veal cutlets out of a silver
basket."

My hearers stared at one another again in utter amazement. I was perfectly
frantic and would have told them anything.

"Where was this coach, in the name of gracious?" asked my sister.

"In Miss Havisham's room." They