“Well?” said she, fixing her eyes upon me. “I hope you want nothing? You’ll get nothing.”
“No indeed, Miss Havisham. I only wanted you to know that I am doing very well in my apprenticeship, and am always much obliged to you.”
“There, there!” with the old restless fingers. “Come now and then; come on your birthday.—Ay!” she cried suddenly, turning herself and her chair towards me, “You are looking round for Estella? Hey?”
I had been looking round—in fact, for Estella—and I stammered that I hoped she was well.
“Abroad,” said Miss Havisham; “educating for a lady; far out of reach; prettier than ever; admired by all who see her. Do you feel that you have lost her?”
There was such a malignant enjoyment in her utterance of the last words, and she broke into such a disagreeable laugh, that I was at a loss what to say. She spared me the trouble of considering, by dismissing me. When the gate was closed upon me by Sarah of the walnut-shell countenance, I felt more than ever dissatisfied with my home and with my