“I should think it was a strong point,” said Herbert, “and I should think you would be puzzled to imagine a stronger; as to the rest, you must bide your guardian’s time, and he must bide his client’s time. You’ll be one-and-twenty before you know where you are, and then perhaps you’ll get some further enlightenment. At all events, you’ll be nearer getting it, for it must come at last.”
“What a hopeful disposition you have!” said I, gratefully admiring his cheery ways.
“I ought to have,” said Herbert, “for I have not much else. I must acknowledge, by the by, that the good sense of what I have just said is not my own, but my father’s. The only remark I ever heard him make on your story, was the final one, ‘The thing is settled and done, or Mr. Jaggers would not be in it.’ And now before I say anything more about my father, or my father’s son, and repay confidence with confidence, I want to make myself seriously disagreeable to you for a moment—positively repulsive.”
“You won’t succeed,” said I.
“O yes I shall!” said he. “One, two, three, and now I am in for it. Handel, my good fellow;”—though he spoke in this light tone, he was very much in earnest—“I have been thinking since we have been talking with our feet on this fender, that Estella surely cannot be a condition of your inheritance, if she was never referred to by your guardian. Am I right in so understanding what you have told me, as that he never referred to her, directly or indirectly, in anyway? Never even hinted, for instance, that your patron might have views as to your marriage ultimately?”
“Never.”
“Now, Handel, I am quite free from the flavor of sour grapes, upon my soul and honor! Not being bound to her, can you not detach yourself from her?—I told you I should be disagreeable.”