8 Another Two Letters

CHAPTER 8 Another Two Letters One afternoon as I was reading at home, a short letter with no greeting came for me: I am to come to London tomorrow on the midday coach. Meet me. Miss Havisham sends her regards. —Estella The morning of Estella's visit found me pacing the station far too early. I was a bundle of nerves. My palms were sweating and my stomach was full of butterflies. I wondered, What will we talk about? Will I be good company? Instead of waiting in the station, I decided to walk over and visit Wemmick. Together we ran some errands for Mr. Jaggers. I returned to the

station to find Estella waving at me from the coach window. She pointed out her luggage, and I arranged for it to be collected. "Where are you off to?" I asked. "To Richmond," she said. "Miss Havisham told me to get a carriage because ten miles is too far to walk. You'll accompany me, of course, and arrange everything." She handed me a small, pretty pouch that contained her money. "I'll send for the carriage. Will you rest here for a minute?" I asked. "Yes. I would like some tea and for you to spend a little while with me. I want to see a bit of London." When we were seated in the tearoom, I asked, "Why are you going to Richmond?" "I am to live with an important society woman. She'll introduce me to the right people." "It'll be nice to meet so many different people." "Perhaps," she answered. She paused for a moment, and we were silent. "Do you like it at the Pockets's?" "I do," I replied. "My studies are going well. I

have discovered that I love to read." Estella cackled in that mean way of hers. "You know," she said, "somebody there is making fun of you behind your back. He sends anonymous letters to Miss Havisham to tell her all of your mistakes." "It doesn't bother me," I said. "I'm sure Miss Havisham knows the truth about me. In fact, I think I know who might have sent them—my classmate Drummle. He's always looking for trouble."

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Estella smirked. "Yes, I'm sure Miss Havisham realizes there's nothing to worry about. We'd better get to that carriage." We toured around London, and I showed Estella the sights. Hours later, after I dropped her off in Richmond, sadness washed over me. The day had been fun, and I already missed her. Our time together was too short. A couple of days later, Herbert heard another letter come through our mail slot. "It's for you, Pip," he said as he collected it. I opened the unfamiliar envelope to discover that my sister had died. Even though she hadn't been too kind to me as a child, I was still angered by whoever hurt her. Mrs. Joe did see me safely through my childhood. And she had suffered so much since her accident. My heart ached to know she was gone and that Joe was now alone. The morning of the funeral, I took a coach and made my way back to the Blue Boar hotel. Even though I had written to tell Joe I was coming, we

hadn't spoken since that day in London. Guilt washed over me as I stowed my bags. I really should have come home more often to see my sister and Joe. As I rounded the corner, I saw the funeral carriage outside the forge, with the procession about to begin. I walked up to Joe and put my hand on his shoulder. "Oh, Joe, how are you?" He grabbed my hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. I knew then that everything was fine between us—that he had forgiven me for my terrible behavior. "Pip, you knew her before the accident, when she was her right self. You know she meant the world to me. What will I do without her?" We followed the carriage on foot. As the procession passed by the marshes, memories came to mind of that Christmas with my convict. Even though my sister had harsh ways, I still loved her. My entire family was gone—buried side by side in the church graveyard. I truly was an orphan. The thought was overwhelmingly sad. After the funeral service, Biddy invited me to