"Much more at rest."
"Are you very unhappy now?"
She asked this question, still without looking at me, but in an unwonted tone of sympathy. I could not reply at the moment for my voice failed me. She put her left arm across the head of her stick, and softly laid her forehead on it.
"I am far from happy, Miss Havisham; but I have other causes of disquiet than any you know of. They are the secrets I have mentioned."
After a little while, she raised her head, and looked at the fire again.
"'Tis noble in you to tell me that you have other causes of unhappiness. Is it true?"
"Too true."
"Can I only serve you, Pip, by serving your friend? Regarding that as done, is there nothing I can do for you yourself?"
"Nothing. I thank you for the question. I thank you even more for the tone of the question. But, there is nothing."
She presently rose from her seat, and looked about the blighted room for the means of writing. There were none there, and she took from her pocket a yellow set of ivory tablets, mounted in tarnished gold, and wrote upon them with a pencil in a case of tarnished gold that hung from her neck.
"You are still on friendly terms with Mr. Jaggers?"
"Quite. I dined with him yesterday."
"This is an authority to him to pay you that money, to lay out at your irresponsible discretion for your friend. I keep no money here; but if you would rather Mr. Jaggers knew nothing of the matter, I will send it to you."
"Thank you, Miss Havisham; I have not the least objection to receiving it from him."
She read me what she had written, and it was direct and clear, and evidently intended to absolve me from any suspicion of profiting by the receipt of the money. I took the tablets from her hand, and it trembled again, and it trem-
