The pale young gentleman and I stood contemplating one another in
Barnard's Inn, until we both burst out laughing. "The idea of its
being you!" said he. "The idea of its being you!" said I. And then we
contemplated one another afresh, and laughed again. "Well!" said the
pale young gentleman, reaching out his hand good-humoredly, "it's all
over now, I hope, and it will be magnanimous in you if you'll forgive me
for having knocked you about so."

I derived from this speech that Mr. Herbert Pocket (for Herbert was the
pale young gentleman's name) still rather confounded his intention with
his execution. But I made a modest reply, and we shook hands warmly.

"You hadn't come into your good fortune at that time?" said Herbert
Pocket.

"No," said I.

"No," he acquiesced: "I heard it had happened very lately. I was rather
on the lookout for good fortune then."

"Indeed?"

"Yes. Miss Havisham had sent for me, to see if she could take a fancy to
me. But she couldn't,--at all events, she didn't."

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."