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1When I reached home, my sister was very curious to know all about Miss Havisham's, and asked a number of questions. And
2I soon found myself getting heavily bumped from behind in the nape of the neck and the small of the back, and having my
3face ignominiously shoved against the kitchen wall, because I did not answer those questions at sufficient length. If a
4dread of not being understood be hidden in the breasts of other young people to anything like the extent to which it
5used to be hidden in mine,--which I consider probable, as I have no particular reason to suspect myself of having been a
6monstrosity,--it is the key to many reservations. I felt convinced that if I described Miss Havisham's as my eyes had
7seen it, I should not be understood. Not only that, but I felt convinced that Miss Havisham too would not be understood;
8and although she was perfectly incomprehensible to me, I entertained an impression that there would be something coarse
9and treacherous in my dragging her as she really was (to say nothing of Miss Estella) before the contemplation of Mrs.
10Joe. Consequently, I said as little as I could, and had my face shoved against the kitchen wall. The worst of it was
11that that bullying old Pumblechook, preyed upon by a devouring curiosity to be informed of all I had seen and heard,
12came gaping over in his chaise-cart at tea-time, to have the details divulged to him. And the mere sight of the torment,
13with his fishy eyes and mouth open, his sandy hair inquisitively on end, and his waistcoat heaving with windy
14arithmetic, made me vicious in my reticence. "Well, boy," Uncle Pumblechook began, as soon as he was seated in the chair
15of honour by the fire. "How did you get on up town?" I answered, "Pretty well, sir," and my sister shook her fist at me.
16"Pretty well?" Mr. Pumblechook repeated. "Pretty well is no answer. Tell us what you mean by pretty well, boy?"
17Whitewash on the forehead hardens the brain into a state of obstinacy perhaps. Anyhow, with whitewash from the wall on
18my forehead, my obstinacy was adamantine. I reflected for some time, and then answered as if I had discovered a new
19idea, "I mean pretty well." My sister with an exclamation of impatience was going to fly at me,--I had no shadow of
20defence, for Joe was busy in the forge,--when Mr. Pumblechook interposed with "No! Don't lose your temper. Leave this
21lad to me, ma'am; leave this lad to me." Mr. Pumblechook then turned me towards him, as if he were going to cut my hair,
22and said,-- "First (to get our thoughts in order): Forty-three pence?" I calculated the consequences of replying "Four
23Hundred Pound," and finding them against me, went as near the answer as I could--which was somewhere about eightpence
24off. Mr. Pumblechook then put me through my pence-table from "twelve pence make one shilling," up to "forty pence make
25three and fourpence," and then triumphantly demanded, as if he had done for me, "Now! How much is forty-three pence?" To
26which I replied, after a long interval of reflection, "I don't know." And I was so aggravated that I almost doubt if I
27did know. Mr. Pumblechook worked his head like a screw to screw it out of me, and said, "Is forty-three pence seven and
28sixpence three fardens, for instance?" "Yes!" said I. And although my sister instantly boxed my ears, it was highly
29gratifying to me to see that the answer spoilt his joke, and brought him to a dead stop. "Boy! What like is Miss
30Havisham?" Mr. Pumblechook began again when he had recovered; folding his arms tight on his chest and applying the
31screw. "Very tall and dark," I told him. "Is she, uncle?" asked my sister. Mr. Pumblechook winked assent; from which I
32at once inferred that he had never seen Miss Havisham, for she was nothing of the kind. "Good!" said Mr. Pumblechook
33conceitedly. ("This is the way to have him! We are beginning to hold our own, I think, Mum?") "I am sure, uncle,"
34returned Mrs. Joe, "I wish you had him always; you know so well how to deal with him." "Now, boy! What was she a-doing
35of, when you went in today?" asked Mr. Pumblechook. "She was sitting," I answered, "in a black velvet coach." Mr.
36Pumblechook and Mrs. Joe stared at one another--as they well might--and both repeated, "In a black velvet coach?" "Yes,"
37said I. "And Miss Estella--that's her niece, I think--handed her in cake and wine at the coach-window, on a gold plate.
38And 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
39anybody else there?" asked Mr. Pumblechook. "Four dogs," said I. "Large or small?" "Immense," said I. "And they fought
40for veal-cutlets out of a silver basket." Mr. Pumblechook and Mrs. Joe stared at one another again, in utter amazement.
41I was perfectly frantic,--a reckless witness under the torture,--and would have told them anything. "Where was this
42coach, in the name of gracious?" asked my sister. "In Miss Havisham's room." They stared again. "But there weren't any
43horses to it." I added this saving clause, in the moment of rejecting four richly caparisoned coursers which I had had
44wild thoughts of harnessing. "Can this be possible, uncle?" asked Mrs. Joe. "What can the boy mean?" "I'll tell you,
45Mum," said Mr. Pumblechook. "My opinion is, it's a sedan-chair. She's flighty, you know,--very flighty,--quite flighty
46enough to pass her days in a sedan-chair." "Did you ever see her in it, uncle?" asked Mrs. Joe. "How could I," he
47returned, forced to the admission, "when I never see her in my life? Never clapped eyes upon her!" "Goodness, uncle! And
48yet you have spoken to her?" "Why, don't you know," said Mr. Pumblechook, testily, "that when I have been there, I have
49been took up to the outside of her door, and the door has stood ajar, and she has spoke to me that way. Don't say you
50don't know that, Mum. Howsever, the boy went there to play. What did you play at, boy?" "We played with flags," I said.
51(I beg to observe that I think of myself with amazement, when I recall the lies I told on this occasion.) "Flags!"
52echoed my sister. "Yes," said I. "Estella waved a blue flag, and I waved a red one, and Miss Havisham waved one
53sprinkled all over with little gold stars, out at the coach-window. And then we all waved our swords and hurrahed."
54"Swords!" repeated my sister. "Where did you get swords from?" "Out of a cupboard," said I. "And I saw pistols in
55it,--and jam,--and pills. And there was no daylight in the room, but it was all lighted up with candles." "That's true,
56Mum," said Mr. Pumblechook, with a grave nod. "That's the state of the case, for that much I've seen myself." And then
57they both stared at me, and I, with an obtrusive show of artlessness on my countenance, stared at them, and plaited the
58right leg of my trousers with my right hand. If they had asked me any more questions, I should undoubtedly have betrayed
59myself, for I was even then on the point of mentioning that there was a balloon in the yard, and should have hazarded
60the statement but for my invention being divided between that phenomenon and a bear in the brewery. They were so much
61occupied, however, in discussing the marvels I had already presented for their consideration, that I escaped. The
62subject still held them when Joe came in from his work to have a cup of tea. To whom my sister, more for the relief of
63her own mind than for the gratification of his, related my pretended experiences.
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