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1I now fell into a regular routine of apprenticeship life, which was varied beyond the limits of the village and the
2marshes, by no more remarkable circumstance than the arrival of my birthday and my paying another visit to Miss
3Havisham. I found Miss Sarah Pocket still on duty at the gate; I found Miss Havisham just as I had left her, and she
4spoke of Estella in the very same way, if not in the very same words. The interview lasted but a few minutes, and she
5gave me a guinea when I was going, and told me to come again on my next birthday. I may mention at once that this became
6an annual custom. I tried to decline taking the guinea on the first occasion, but with no better effect than causing her
7to ask me very angrily, if I expected more? Then, and after that, I took it. So unchanging was the dull old house, the
8yellow light in the darkened room, the faded spectre in the chair by the dressing-table glass, that I felt as if the
9stopping of the clocks had stopped Time in that mysterious place, and, while I and everything else outside it grew
10older, it stood still. Daylight never entered the house as to my thoughts and remembrances of it, any more than as to
11the actual fact. It bewildered me, and under its influence I continued at heart to hate my trade and to be ashamed of
12home. Imperceptibly I became conscious of a change in Biddy, however. Her shoes came up at the heel, her hair grew
13bright and neat, her hands were always clean. She was not beautiful,--she was common, and could not be like
14Estella,--but she was pleasant and wholesome and sweet-tempered. She had not been with us more than a year (I remember
15her being newly out of mourning at the time it struck me), when I observed to myself one evening that she had curiously
16thoughtful and attentive eyes; eyes that were very pretty and very good. It came of my lifting up my own eyes from a
17task I was poring at--writing some passages from a book, to improve myself in two ways at once by a sort of
18stratagem--and seeing Biddy observant of what I was about. I laid down my pen, and Biddy stopped in her needlework
19without laying it down. "Biddy," said I, "how do you manage it? Either I am very stupid, or you are very clever." "What
20is it that I manage? I don't know," returned Biddy, smiling. She managed our whole domestic life, and wonderfully too;
21but I did not mean that, though that made what I did mean more surprising. "How do you manage, Biddy," said I, "to learn
22everything that I learn, and always to keep up with me?" I was beginning to be rather vain of my knowledge, for I spent
23my birthday guineas on it, and set aside the greater part of my pocket-money for similar investment; though I have no
24doubt, now, that the little I knew was extremely dear at the price. "I might as well ask you," said Biddy, "how you
25manage?" "No; because when I come in from the forge of a night, any one can see me turning to at it. But you never turn
26to at it, Biddy." "I suppose I must catch it like a cough," said Biddy, quietly; and went on with her sewing. Pursuing
27my idea as I leaned back in my wooden chair, and looked at Biddy sewing away with her head on one side, I began to think
28her rather an extraordinary girl. For I called to mind now, that she was equally accomplished in the terms of our trade,
29and the names of our different sorts of work, and our various tools. In short, whatever I knew, Biddy knew.
30Theoretically, she was already as good a blacksmith as I, or better. "You are one of those, Biddy," said I, "who make
31the most of every chance. You never had a chance before you came here, and see how improved you are!" Biddy looked at me
32for an instant, and went on with her sewing. "I was your first teacher though; wasn't I?" said she, as she sewed.
33"Biddy!" I exclaimed, in amazement. "Why, you are crying!" "No I am not," said Biddy, looking up and laughing. "What put
34that in your head?" What could have put it in my head but the glistening of a tear as it dropped on her work? I sat
35silent, recalling what a drudge she had been until Mr. Wopsle's great-aunt successfully overcame that bad habit of
36living, so highly desirable to be got rid of by some people. I recalled the hopeless circumstances by which she had been
37surrounded in the miserable little shop and the miserable little noisy evening school, with that miserable old bundle of
38incompetence always to be dragged and shouldered. I reflected that even in those untoward times there must have been
39latent in Biddy what was now developing, for, in my first uneasiness and discontent I had turned to her for help, as a
40matter of course. Biddy sat quietly sewing, shedding no more tears, and while I looked at her and thought about it all,
41it occurred to me that perhaps I had not been sufficiently grateful to Biddy. I might have been too reserved, and should
42have patronised her more (though I did not use that precise word in my meditations) with my confidence. "Yes, Biddy," I
43observed, when I had done turning it over, "you were my first teacher, and that at a time when we little thought of ever
44being together like this, in this kitchen." "Ah, poor thing!" replied Biddy. It was like her self-forgetfulness to
45transfer the remark to my sister, and to get up and be busy about her, making her more comfortable; "that's sadly true!"
46"Well!" said I, "we must talk together a little more, as we used to do. And I must consult you a little more, as I used
47to do. Let us have a quiet walk on the marshes next Sunday, Biddy, and a long chat." My sister was never left alone now;
48but Joe more than readily undertook the care of her on that Sunday afternoon, and Biddy and I went out together. It was
49summer-time, and lovely weather. When we had passed the village and the church and the churchyard, and were out on the
50marshes and began to see the sails of the ships as they sailed on, I began to combine Miss Havisham and Estella with the
51prospect, in my usual way. When we came to the river-side and sat down on the bank, with the water rippling at our feet,
52making it all more quiet than it would have been without that sound, I resolved that it was a good time and place for
53the admission of Biddy into my inner confidence. "Biddy," said I, after binding her to secrecy, "I want to be a
54gentleman." "O, I wouldn't, if I was you!" she returned. "I don't think it would answer." "Biddy," said I, with some
55severity, "I have particular reasons for wanting to be a gentleman." "You know best, Pip; but don't you think you are
56happier as you are?" "Biddy," I exclaimed, impatiently, "I am not at all happy as I am. I am disgusted with my calling
57and with my life. I have never taken to either, since I was bound. Don't be absurd." "Was I absurd?" said Biddy, quietly
58raising her eyebrows; "I am sorry for that; I didn't mean to be. I only want you to do well, and to be comfortable."
59"Well, then, understand once for all that I never shall or can be comfortable--or anything but miserable--there,
60Biddy!--unless I can lead a very different sort of life from the life I lead now." "That's a pity!" said Biddy, shaking
61her head with a sorrowful air. Now, I too had so often thought it a pity, that, in the singular kind of quarrel with
62myself which I was always carrying on, I was half inclined to shed tears of vexation and distress when Biddy gave
63utterance to her sentiment and my own. I told her she was right, and I knew it was much to be regretted, but still it
64was not to be helped.
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