Great Expectations

Whether I should have made out this object so soon if there had been no

fine lady sitting at it, I cannot say. In an arm-chair, with an

elbow resting on the table and her head leaning on that hand, 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. Her shoes were white. And she had a long white veil dependent

from her hair, and she had bridal flowers in her hair, but her hair was

white. Some bright jewels sparkled on her neck and on her hands, and

some other jewels lay sparkling on the table. Dresses, less splendid

than the dress she wore, and half-packed trunks, were scattered about.

She had not quite finished dressing, for she had but one shoe on,--the

other was on the table near her hand,--her veil was but half arranged,

her watch and chain were not put on, and some lace for her bosom lay

with those trinkets, and with her handkerchief, and gloves, and

some flowers, and a Prayer-Book all confusedly heaped about the

looking-glass.

It was not in the first few moments that I saw all these things, though

I saw more of them in the first moments than might be supposed. But I

saw that everything within my view which ought to be white, had been

white long ago, and had lost its lustre and was faded and yellow. I saw

that the bride within the bridal dress had withered like the dress, and

like the flowers, and had no brightness left but the brightness of her

sunken eyes. I saw that the dress had been put upon the rounded figure

of a young woman, and that the figure upon which it now hung loose had

shrunk to skin and bone. Once, I had been taken to see some ghastly

waxwork at the Fair, representing I know not what impossible personage

lying in state. Once, I had been taken to one of our old marsh churches

to see a skeleton in the ashes of a rich dress that had been dug out of

a vault under the church pavement. Now, waxwork and skeleton seemed to

have dark eyes that moved and looked at me. I should have cried out, if

I could.

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

"Pip, ma'am."

"Pip?"

"Mr. Pumblechook's boy, ma'am. Come--to play."

"Come nearer; let me look at you. Come close."

It was when I stood before her, avoiding her eyes, that I took note of

the surrounding objects in detail, and saw that her watch had stopped

at twenty minutes to nine, and that a clock in the room had stopped at

twenty minutes to nine.