Charles Dickens

In my rooms too, with which she had

never been at all associated, there was at once the blankness of

death and a perpetual suggestion of the sound of her voice or the

turn of her face or figure, as if she were still alive and had been

often there.

Whatever my fortunes might have been, I could scarcely have

recalled my sister with much tenderness. But I suppose there is a

shock of regret which may exist without much tenderness. Under its

influence (and perhaps to make up for the want of the softer

feeling) I was seized with a violent indignation against the

assailant from whom she had suffered so much; and I felt that on

sufficient proof I could have revengefully pursued Orlick, or any

one else, to the last extremity.

Having written to Joe, to offer consolation, and to assure him that

I should come to the funeral, I passed the intermediate days in the

curious state of mind I have glanced at. I went down early in the

morning, and alighted at the Blue Boar in good time to walk over to

the forge.

It was fine summer weather again, and, as I walked along, the times

when I was a little helpless creature, and my sister did not spare

me, vividly returned. But they returned with a gentle tone upon

them that softened even the edge of Tickler. For now, the very

breath of the beans and clover whispered to my heart that the day

must come when it would be well for my memory that others walking

in the sunshine should be softened as they thought of me.

At last I came within sight of the house, and saw that Trabb and

Co. had put in a funereal execution and taken possession. Two

dismally absurd persons, each ostentatiously exhibiting a crutch

done up in a black bandage - as if that instrument could possibly

communicate any comfort to anybody - were posted at the front door;

and in one of them I recognized a postboy discharged from the Boar

for turning a young couple into a sawpit on their bridal morning,

in consequence of intoxication rendering it necessary for him to

ride his horse clasped round the neck with both arms. All the

children of the village, and most of the women, were admiring these

sable warders and the closed windows of the house and forge; and as

I came up, one of the two warders (the postboy) knocked at the door

- implying that I was far too much exhausted by grief, to have

strength remaining to knock for myself.

Another sable warder (a carpenter, who had once eaten two geese for

a wager) opened the door, and showed me into the best parlour.

Here, Mr. Trabb had taken unto himself the best table, and had got

all the leaves up, and was holding a kind of black Bazaar, with the

aid of a quantity of black pins. At the moment of my arrival, he

had just finished putting somebody's hat into black long-clothes,

like an African baby; so he held out his hand for mine. But I,

misled by the action, and confused by the occasion, shook hands

with him with every testimony of warm affection.

Poor dear Joe, entangled in a little black cloak tied in a large

bow under his chin, was seated apart at the upper end of the room;

where, as chief mourner, he had evidently been stationed by Trabb.

When I bent down and said to him, "Dear Joe, how are you?" he said,

"Pip, old chap, you knowed her when she were a fine figure of a--"

and clasped my hand and said no more.

Biddy, looking very neat and modest in her black dress, went

quietly here and there, and was very helpful. When I had spoken to

Biddy, as I thought it not a time for talking I went and sat down

near Joe, and there began to wonder in what part of the house it -

she - my sister - was. The air of the parlour being faint with the

smell of sweet cake, I looked about for the table of refreshments;

it was scarcely visible until one had got accustomed to the gloom,

but there was a cut-up plum-cake upon it, and there were cut-up

oranges, and sandwiches, and biscuits, and two decanters that I

knew very well as ornaments, but had never seen used in all my

life; one full of port, and one of sherry.