Great Expectations - Charles Dickens (i want to read a book .txt) 📗

As I drew nearer, I saw it

to be the figure of a woman. As I drew nearer yet, it was about to

turn away, when it stopped, and let me come up with it. Then, it

faltered, as if much surprised, and uttered my name, and I cried

out,—

“Estella!”

“I am greatly changed. I wonder you know me.”

The freshness of her beauty was indeed gone, but its indescribable

majesty and its indescribable charm remained. Those attractions in

it, I had seen before; what I had never seen before, was the

saddened, softened light of the once proud eyes; what I had never

felt before was the friendly touch of the once insensible hand.

We sat down on a bench that was near, and I said, “After so many

years, it is strange that we should thus meet again, Estella, here

where our first meeting was! Do you often come back?”

“I have never been here since.”

“Nor I.”

The moon began to rise, and I thought of the placid look at the

white ceiling, which had passed away. The moon began to rise, and I

thought of the pressure on my hand when I had spoken the last words

he had heard on earth.

Estella was the next to break the silence that ensued between us.

“I have very often hoped and intended to come back, but have been

prevented by many circumstances. Poor, poor old place!”

The silvery mist was touched with the first rays of the moonlight,

and the same rays touched the tears that dropped from her eyes. Not

knowing that I saw them, and setting herself to get the better of

them, she said quietly,—

“Were you wondering, as you walked along, how it came to be left in

this condition?”

“Yes, Estella.”

“The ground belongs to me. It is the only possession I have not

relinquished. Everything else has gone from me, little by little,

but I have kept this. It was the subject of the only determined

resistance I made in all the wretched years.”

“Is it to be built on?”

“At last, it is. I came here to take leave of it before its change.

And you,” she said, in a voice of touching interest to a wanderer,—

“you live abroad still?”

“Still.”

“And do well, I am sure?”

“I work pretty hard for a sufficient living, and therefore—yes, I

do well.”

“I have often thought of you,” said Estella.

“Have you?”

“Of late, very often. There was a long hard time when I kept far

from me the remembrance of what I had thrown away when I was

quite ignorant of its worth. But since my duty has not been

incompatible with the admission of that remembrance, I have given

it a place in my heart.”

“You have always held your place in my heart,” I answered.

And we were silent again until she spoke.

“I little thought,” said Estella, “that I should take leave of you

in taking leave of this spot. I am very glad to do so.”

“Glad to part again, Estella? To me, parting is a painful thing. To

me, the remembrance of our last parting has been ever mournful and

painful.”

“But you said to me,” returned Estella, very earnestly, ‘God bless

you, God forgive you!’ And if you could say that to me then, you

will not hesitate to say that to me now,—now, when suffering has

been stronger than all other teaching, and has taught me to

understand what your heart used to be. I have been bent and broken,

but—I hope—into a better shape. Be as considerate and good to

me as you were, and tell me we are friends.”

“We are friends,” said I, rising and bending over her, as she rose

from the bench.

“And will continue friends apart,” said Estella.

I took her hand in mine, and we went out of the ruined place; and,

as the morning mists had risen long ago when I first left the

forge, so the evening mists were rising now, and in all the broad

expanse of tranquil light they showed to me, I saw no shadow of

another parting from her.

End of Project Gutenberg Etext of Great Expectations, by Charles Dickens