The next day, I traveled back to Miss Havisham’s house. I walked through the quiet streets of the town. The old buildings and the sound of the church bells felt sadder than usual. It felt as if the whole place had changed because Estella was gone forever.
When I arrived at the house, a servant let me in. I took a candle and went upstairs alone. I found Miss Havisham in a large, dark room. She was sitting in a ragged chair by the fire, looking very lonely.
I stood near her until she noticed me. She stared at me and whispered, "Is it real?"
"It is I, Pip," I said. "Mr. Jaggers gave me your note."
I sat down near her. I noticed a new expression on her face; she looked almost afraid of me.
"I want to talk about your friend," she said. "I want to show you that my heart is not made of stone. Do you believe I can be human?"
I said some kind words to her. She reached out her shaking hand as if to touch me, but then she pulled it back. I explained the plan to help Herbert start his business. I told her that I needed nine hundred pounds to finish the secret deal.
"If I give you the money," she asked, "will you keep it a secret? And will your mind be at rest?"
"Yes," I answered. "I will be much happier."
She looked at the fire. "Are you very unhappy now, Pip?"
"I am not happy," I said quietly. "But I have other problems that you don't know about."
Miss Havisham rose and wrote a note to Mr. Jaggers on a small tablet. She told him to pay me the money for Herbert. As she handed me the tablet, her hand shook violently.
"Pip," she said, looking away. "On the first page, I have written my name. If you can ever write 'I forgive her' under my name, please do it."
"I can do it now," I said. "I have made many mistakes in my own life, Miss Havisham. I am not angry with you."
To my surprise, she suddenly fell to her knees at my feet. She began to cry—something I had never seen her do before.
"Oh!" she cried out. "What have I done! What have I done!"
I tried to help her up. She was filled with regret. She realized that by raising Estella to be cold and heartless, she had caused terrible pain.
"I meant to save her from misery like my own," she cried. "But as she grew more beautiful, I stole her heart away and put ice in its place."
"It would have been better to leave her with a natural heart," I said, "even if it was eventually broken."
Before I left, I asked her one last question. "Whose child was Estella?"
She shook her head. "I don’t know. Mr. Jaggers brought her here when she was two or three years old. He told me she was an orphan."
I was finished. I had helped Herbert, and I had heard Miss Havisham’s apology. It was evening as I went downstairs. I decided to walk around the ruined garden one last time. It was a cold, lonely place. As I looked at the old brewery, I had a strange, frightening vision of Miss Havisham's ghost. It made me feel very nervous.
I went back into the house to check on her one last time before leaving. I looked into the room and saw her sitting in her chair with her back to me. Suddenly, a great flame sprang up. She was on fire!
She ran toward me, screaming. Her old bridal dress was burning fast. I acted quickly. I took off my heavy coats and threw them over her. I pulled the large cloth off the table and wrapped it around her to put out the flames. We struggled on the floor until the fire was finally out.
The servants ran into the room. Miss Havisham was unconscious. I held her until a doctor arrived. It was only then that I realized my own hands were badly burnt.
The doctor said she was seriously injured, but the biggest danger was the shock to her mind. They moved her bed onto the great table. Even though her dress was gone, she still looked like a ghost, covered in white bandages and sheets.
That night, she began to speak, but her mind was wandering. She repeated the same three things over and over: "What have I done!", "I meant to save her," and "Write 'I forgive her'."
I stayed for a few hours, but I knew I had to return to London to protect Provis. At six o'clock the next morning, I leaned over and kissed her. As I left, she was still whispering the same words: "Take the pencil and write... I forgive her."