Chapter 2
Estella Havisham, a refined beauty of three-and-twenty years, sat on a plush cushion at the feet of her adopted mother in the room where the dressing-table stood and where the candles burned on the wall. Her fingers twisted with perfect agility around her knitting needles. She looked upon her work with perfect composure, the deception of her cool expression concealing her inner sentiments of apprehension.
Miss Havisham stroked her soft brown hair, staring at the young lady fondly, deep in thought. Feeling the elderly woman's eyes upon her, Estella's uneasiness became progressively more apparent. Eventually, Miss Havisham took notice of this and resituated herself on her settee near the fire.
"You do not like it when I stroke your head?" the elder lady cried in dismay.
"No!" Estella quickly interjected, only briefly glancing up from her knitting. "I quite like it. Please, continue."
Though not entirely convinced of her daughter's sincerity, Miss Havisham continued to fondle the young lady's abundance of wavy locks. Eventually, she reached towards her dressing table and lifted a jeweled headpiece, placing it in Estella's hair. Estella feigned indifference, focusing her concentration on her job at hand. "You are to be married tomorrow," Miss Havisham murmured slowly, as though she believed the news would shock Estella.
Estella did not glance up from her work. "Yes," she whispered at last.
"And Mr. Drummle…" Miss Havisham's words trailed off, a distorted, nearly malicious smile forming upon her face. "Mr. Drummle… will love you." Estella suppressed the urge to shudder as these last three words reached her ears. It seemed that Miss Havisham viewed Mr. Drummle's affections as a sort of punishment for him. "You are to wear… this…" Miss Havisham reached once more towards the dressing table and lifted a necklace. "You are to wear this tomorrow…" Estella's initial apathetic glance was immediately followed by a double take of astonishment.
"How could I wear it?" Estella asked, controlling her tone.
"I was to wear it… on my wedding day…" It did not seem to Estella that Miss Havisham was speaking to her. As she ran her withered fingers over the pearls, her eyes filled with tears. "But now you are to wear it," she murmured.
Estella could not deny the urge to glance once more at the necklace, which, in all her years at Satis House, had never once been removed from Miss Havisham's archaic dressing table. The longer Miss Havisham caressed the pearls, the brighter they gleamed under the light of the fire. Clearing her throat, Estella began to knit with unprecedented vehemence.
Her work was suddenly interrupted by the icy sensation of the once-neglected pearls encircling her throat. Her hand quickly abandoned the knitting needle, grasping at the jewels as though she feared the priceless items would be used to her detriment.
"Let me look at you," Miss Havisham demanded, forcefully turning the young lady towards her. She stared at Estella with bitter satisfaction. "You will break his heart," she whispered.
"I should fear that he might return the damage," Estella muttered quickly. "That is, if I possessed a heart that might be broken."
At this, Miss Havisham smiled. "Break his heart, my dear. Now stand. Stand!" Estella promptly did as she was directed. "Now…" said Miss Havisham, gesturing towards the mirror. "See the jewels for yourself. Tell me now that you can't wear them."
Estella stared into the mirror, her eyes quickly surveying the jewels before slowly lifting to see her own dismal expression. Did she have a justifiable reason to feel this strong sense of apprehension? Was there something so terribly wrong about the prospect of becoming Mrs. Bentley Drummle? Perhaps Pip had more sense than she had originally believed. Perhaps this Mr. Drummle was an absolute scoundrel. After all, Pip had more occasions to see Mr. Drummle's darker side than she ever would have had. She certainly did not feel remorseful in regards to her last meeting with Pip. She stood by the fact that never, under any circumstance, had she given Pip reason to believe that she reciprocated his affections. She never did nor ever could feel that sort of passionate love for anyone, least of all for Pip. Least of all…
Her thoughts were suddenly distracted by the dark silhouette lingering directly outside of the room. As the figure took a step towards them, making his presence known, Estella glanced at Miss Havisham, whose expression immediately turned to one of anxiety.
"I came as quickly as I could, Miss Havisham," Mr. Jaggers announced, taking several steps towards them. "I was engaged with a case at the time when your note arrived and thus could not detach myself from Little Britain. But, as I am now here, would you be so good as to explain why I have been so urgently called here?"
"I have asked you here to assist me with some very crucial legal proceedings," Miss Havisham replied.
"Yes, that seemed rather obvious. But with what particular legal proceedings am I to assist you?"
At this, Miss Havisham fixed her eyes once more on Estella. "Estella is to be married tomorrow."
For the first time since his arrival, Mr. Jaggers turned his attention from Miss Havisham to the younger lady, who slowly crossed back to the cushion where she had previously sat. His gaze upon her was very brief. Giving Estella the minimum attention that was called for under the circumstance, he immediately fixed his eyes on his boots, swaying forwards and backwards, his hands clasped behind him.
"So I have heard," he replied at last with an air of indifference. "And is this the urgent legal matter to which I must attend?" This was said with a degree of reproach.
Miss Havisham's eyes widened fretfully. "No, Mr. Jaggers! Certainly not. Although, in a way, it would be. You see, I want to assure that, once Estella is married, her fortune will remain within her own hands."
"You are referring to what will become of your fortune after your inevitable death, are you not?" he asked coolly. At this, Estella turned her eyes from her knitting needles to his face and then directly to the face of Miss Havisham, her eyes conveying an expression of shock.
"Yes, Mr. Jaggers. I am indeed referring to my inevitable death," Miss Havisham replied, oblivious to Estella's anxious expression.
"You couldn't possibly mean-" Estella started before immediately checking herself. An uncomfortable silence pursued.
"That's not to say that your death is eminent," Mr. Jaggers explained, indirectly assuaging Estella as he spoke to Miss Havisham. "You'll have to forgive me, Miss Havisham. As a member of the Court, I have grown accustomed to speaking of such matters with perfect candor." Estella glanced up at him as he said this. To her, it was apparent that nothing about his expression or tone conveyed any sort of repentance.
Miss Havisham was not nearly as offended by his tactlessness as Estella had been. "Certainly…" she mumbled, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. "But you will take care of this legal matter, won't you, Mr. Jaggers?"
"Of course I will. Think no more of it," he said, waving his hand for emphasis. "Your fortune is to go directly into the hands of Mrs. Bentley Drummle…" He crossed to a small table in the corner of the room and placed a sheet of paper upon it. He glanced around for a moment, puzzled. "Might I have a pen?" At this, Miss Havisham promptly took a pen and inkwell from her dressing table and handed the items to Estella, who stood and crossed to him, her hands stretched forth. "Ah. Thank you," he murmured, his eyes fixed on the paper as he reached for the items. Suddenly, his eyes lifted, evidently transfixed on the pearls that hung about Estella's throat. Estella watched with curiosity as his eyes lingered upon the jewels for the brief moment before he recollected himself. Placing the pen and inkwell upon the small table, he once more became focused on the legal business before him.
Estella returned to her place at Miss Havisham's feet, gently wrapping her finger around the pearls of the necklace. Obviously she had not been the only one in the past to notice this precious family relic, which had been withering away in a state of atrophy for nearly thirty years.
After several minutes of intense scribbling, Mr. Jaggers straightened himself and crossed towards the ladies. "I will have Mr. Wemmick take care of this tomorrow morning," he announced, brandishing the paper in the air as he spoke.
"Make haste, Mr. Jaggers," Miss Havisham demanded. "By this time tomorrow, she will be married."
"Yes, of course," he said calmly, giving Estella a slight glance before edging towards the door. "If that is all, I shall take my leave of you, Miss Havisham."
"That is all. Good evening, Mr. Jaggers," Miss Havisham said.
"Good evening," he said cordially, turning towards the door.
"Good bye, Mr. Jaggers. I probably won't see you very often once I have left Satis House," Estella said, curious to see what sort of response she would receive.
After a moment of hesitation, Mr. Jaggers reluctantly turned from the door towards them. "Yes, of course," he began, choosing his words carefully as he fixed his gaze upon the ceiling. "I… certainly wish you the best of fortune, young lady. Farewell." Giving them a brief bow, he immediately took the opportunity to abandon the room without further ado.
Estella could not suppress a slight scoff. To her surprise, this did not go undetected by Miss Havisham. "What is it, Estella?" she asked curiously.
Estella glanced up, checking herself. "Oh, nothing. It's only… I think it rather amusing that, after all these years, the only words your highly-esteemed attorney could find for me were, 'I wish you the best of fortune' and 'farewell'."
She glanced up to Miss Havisham with a good-natured smile. Miss Havisham did not seem to be listening. Rather, it seemed that her attention was wholly captivated by the string of pearls that dangled from Estella's throat.