Herbert to some present income—say of a hundred
a year, to keep him in good hope and heart—
and gradually to buy him on to some small
partnership. I begged Wemmick, in conclusion,
to understand that my help must always
be rendered without Herbert's knowledge or
suspicion, and that there was no one else in the
world with whom I could advise. I wound up
by laying my hand upon his shoulder, and saying,
"I can't help confiding in you, though
I know it must be troublesome to you; but
that is your fault, in having ever brought me
here."

Wemmick was silent for a little while, and
then said, with a kind of start, " Well you know,
Mr. Pip, I must tell you one thing. This is
devilish good of you."

"Say you'll help me to be good then," said I.

"Ecod," replied Wemmick, shaking his head,
"that's not in my trade."

"Nor is this your trading-place," said I.

"You are right," he returned. " You hit the
nail on the head. Mr. Pip, I'll put on my
considering-cap, and I think all you want to do,
may be done by degrees. Skiffins (that's her
brother) is an accountant and agent. I'll look
him up and go to work for you."

" I thank you ten thousand times."

"On the contrary," said he, "I thank you,
for though we are strictly in our private and
personal capacity, still it may be mentioned that
there are Newgate cobwebs about, and it brushes
them away."

After a little further conversation to the same
effect we returned into the Castle, where we
found Miss Skiffins preparing tea. The
responsible duty of making the toast was
delegated to the Aged, and that excellent old
gentleman was so intent upon it, that he seemed
to me in some danger of melting his eyes. It
was no nominal meal that we were going to
make, but a vigorous reality. The Aged
prepared such a haystack of buttered toast, that I
could scarcely see him over it as it simmered on
an iron stand hooked on to the top-bar; while
Miss Skiffins brewed such a jorum of tea that
the pig in the back premises became strongly
excited, and repeatedly expressed his desire to
participate in the entertainment.

The flag had been struck and the gun had
been fired, at the right moment of time, and I
felt as snugly cut off from the rest of Walworth
as if the moat were thirty feet wide by as
many deep. Nothing disturbed the tranquillity
of the Castle, but the occasional tumbling open
of John and Miss Skiffins: which little doors
were a prey to some spasmodic infirmity that
made me sympathetically uncomfortable until
I got used to it. I inferred from the methodical
nature of Miss Skiffins's arrangements that she
made tea there every Sunday night; and I rather
suspected that a classic brooch she wore,
representing the profile of an undesirable female with
a very straight nose and a very new moon, was
a piece of portable property that had been given
her by Wemmick.

We ate the whole of the toast and drank tea
in proportion, and it was delightful to see how
warm and greasy we all got after it. The Aged
especially, might have passed for some clean old
chief of a savage tribe, just oiled. After a short
pause of repose, Miss Skiffins—in the absence
of the little servant who, it seemed, retired to the
bosom of her family on Sunday afternoons
washed up the tea-things in a trifling lady-like
amateur manner that compromised none of us.
Then she put on her gloves again, and we drew
round the fire, and Wemmick said, "Now Aged
Parent, tip us the paper."

Wemmick explained to me while the Aged
got his spectacles out, that this was according
to custom, and that it gave the old gentleman
infinite satisfaction to read the news aloud. " I
won't offer an apology," said Wemmick, " for
he isn't capable of many pleasures—are you,
Aged P.?"

"All right, John, all right," returned the old
man, seeing himself spoken to.

"Only tip him a nod every now and then
when he looks off his paper," said Wemmick,
"and he'll be as happy as a king. We are all
attention, Aged One."

"All right, John, all right!" returned the
cheerful old man: so busy and so pleased, that
it really was quite charming.

The Aged's reading reminded me of the
classes at Mr. Wopsle's great-aunt's, with the
pleasanter peculiarity that it seemed to come
through a Keyhole. As he wanted the candles
close to him, and as he was always on the verge
of putting either his head or the newspaper into
them, he required as much watching as a powder-
mill. But Wemmick was equally untiring and
gentle in his vigilance, and the Aged read on,
quite unconscious of his many rescues. Whenever
he looked at us, we all expressed the
greatest interest and amazement, and nodded
until he resumed again.

As Wemmick and Miss Skiffins sat side by
side, and as I sat in a shadowy corner, I
observed a slow and gradual elongation of Mr.
Wemmick's mouth, powerfully suggestive of his
slowly and gradually stealing his arm round
Miss Skiffins's waist. In course of time I saw
his hand appear on the other side of Miss
Skiffins; but at that moment Miss Skiffins
neatly stopped him with the green glove,
unwound his arm again as if it were an article of
dress, and with the greatest deliberation laid
it on the table before her. Miss Skiffins's
composure while she did this was one of the
most remarkable sights I have ever seen,
and if I could have thought the act consistent
with abstraction of mind, I should have
deemed that Miss Skiffins performed it
mechanically.

By-and-by I noticed Wemmick's arm beginning
to disappear again, and gradually fading out
of view. Shortly afterwards, his mouth began
to widen again. After an interval of suspense
on my part that was quite enthralling and
almost painful, I saw his hand appear on the
other side of Miss Skiffins. Instantly, Miss
Skiffins stopped it with the neatness of a placid