“Ay, ay!” said she, looking at the discomfited and envious Sarah, with delight. “I have seen Mr. Jaggers. I have heard about it, Pip. So you go to-morrow?” “Yes, Miss Havisham.” “And you are adopted by a rich person?” “Yes, Miss Havisham.” “Not named?” “No, Miss Havisham.” “And Mr. Jaggers is made your guardian?” “Yes, Miss Havisham.” She quite gloated on these questions and answers, so keen was her enjoyment of Sarah Pocket’s jealous dismay. “Well!” she went on; “you have a promising career before you. Be good—deserve it—and abide by Mr. Jaggers’s instructions.” She looked at me, and looked at Sarah, and Sarah’s countenance wrung out of her watchful face a cruel smile. “Good-bye, Pip!—you will always keep the name of Pip, you know.” “Yes, Miss Havisham.” “Good-bye, Pip!” She st