I thought it polite to remark that I was surprised to hear that.

     "Bad taste," said Herbert, laughing, "but a fact. Yes, she had sent for me on a trial visit, and if I had come out of it successfully, I suppose I should have been provided for; perhaps I should have been what-you-may-called it to Estella."

     "What's that?" I asked, with sudden gravity.

     He was arranging his fruit in plates while we talked, which divided his attention, and was the cause of his having made this lapse of a word. "Affianced," he explained, still busy with the fruit. "Betrothed. Engaged. What's-his-named. Any word of that sort."

     "How did you bear your disappointment?" I asked.

     "Pooh!" said he, "I didn't care much for it. She's a Tartar."

     "Miss Havisham?"