Great Expectations

"I am going to live," said she, "at a great expense, with a lady there,

who has the power--or says she has--of taking me about, and introducing

me, and showing people to me and showing me to people."

"I suppose you will be glad of variety and admiration?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

She answered so carelessly, that I said, "You speak of yourself as if

you were some one else."

"Where did you learn how I speak of others? Come, come," said Estella,

smiling delightfully, "you must not expect me to go to school to you; I

must talk in my own way. How do you thrive with Mr. Pocket?"

"I live quite pleasantly there; at least--" It appeared to me that I was

losing a chance.

"At least?" repeated Estella.

"As pleasantly as I could anywhere, away from you."

"You silly boy," said Estella, quite composedly, "how can you talk such

nonsense? Your friend Mr. Matthew, I believe, is superior to the rest of

his family?"

"Very superior indeed. He is nobody's enemy--" --"Don't add but his

own," interposed Estella, "for I hate that class of man. But he really

is disinterested, and above small jealousy and spite, I have heard?"

"I am sure I have every reason to say so."

"You have not every reason to say so of the rest of his people," said

Estella, nodding at me with an expression of face that was at once

grave and rallying, "for they beset Miss Havisham with reports and

insinuations to your disadvantage. They watch you, misrepresent you,

write letters about you (anonymous sometimes), and you are the torment

and the occupation of their lives. You can scarcely realize to yourself

the hatred those people feel for you."

"They do me no harm, I hope?"

Instead of answering, Estella burst out laughing. This was very singular

to me, and I looked at her in considerable perplexity. When she left

off--and she had not laughed languidly, but with real enjoyment--I said,

in my diffident way with her,-"I hope I may suppose that you would not be amused if they did me any

harm."

"No, no you may be sure of that," said Estella. "You may be certain that

I laugh because they fail. O, those people with Miss Havisham, and the

tortures they undergo!" She laughed again, and even now when she had

told me why, her laughter was very singular to me, for I could not

doubt its being genuine, and yet it seemed too much for the occasion.

I thought there must really be something more here than I knew; she saw

the thought in my mind, and answered it.