One Monday morning, I received a letter from Biddy. She wrote to tell me that Joe was coming to London with Mr. Wopsle and wanted to see me. He planned to visit my rooms at Barnard’s Inn the next morning at nine o’clock. Biddy added a note from Joe: “He wants me to write what larks. He says you will understand.”
I did not look forward to Joe’s visit with pleasure. Instead, I felt embarrassed. I was now a "gentleman," and Joe was just a simple blacksmith. I was worried that my new friends, especially the sulky Bentley Drummle, might see him and laugh at me. I realized then—and it is a sad thing to admit—that we often do our meanest actions because of people we don't even like.
By this time, I had spent a lot of money decorating my rooms. I had even hired a young servant boy named Pepper. I dressed him in a fancy uniform with top boots, but I didn't really have any work for him to do. He mostly just stood around and ate a lot. I called him "The Avenger."
On Tuesday morning, it was raining. I felt so nervous that I wanted to run away, but I stayed to wait for Joe. Soon, I heard a clumsy sound on the stairs. I knew it was Joe because his heavy boots were always too big for him. He knocked quietly, and the Avenger announced, "Mr. Gargery!"
Joe came in, his honest face shining. He grabbed both my hands and shook them up and down.
"Pip, how are you?" he cried.
"I am glad to see you, Joe. Give me your hat," I said.
But Joe wouldn't let go of his hat. He held it carefully with both hands, as if it were a bird’s nest full of eggs. He looked around the room in wonder.
"You have grown so much, Pip," he said. "You look like a real honour to your country."
Joe told me that Mr. Wopsle had left the church to become an actor and was also in London. Joe had even gone to see him perform in a play. While he talked, he looked extremely uncomfortable. He didn't know where to put his hat. He eventually balanced it on the edge of the fireplace, but it kept falling off.
When Herbert arrived, I introduced him to Joe. Joe became even more stiff and formal. He began calling me "Sir," which made me feel very uneasy. During breakfast, he was so nervous that he dropped more food than he ate. He sat far back from the table and coughed behind his hand constantly. I was impatient and grumpy with him, but I didn't realize that it was my own cold behavior making him so nervous.
When Herbert left for work, Joe and I were alone.
"Joe," I said crossly, "why do you keep calling me 'Sir'?"
Joe looked at me with a touch of sadness and dignity. "I have only a few minutes before I must leave," he said. "I only came because I wanted to be useful to you."
He explained that Mr. Pumblechook had brought him a message. "Miss Havisham wants to speak to you, Pip," Joe said. "She told me to tell you that Estella has come home and would be glad to see you."
My face turned red. If I had known Joe had such important news, I would have been much kinder to him.
"I must go now, Pip," Joe said, rising from his chair.
"But won't you stay for dinner?" I asked, feeling guilty.
"No," Joe said firmly. He took my hand, and for a moment, he was the old Joe again. "Pip, old chap, life is full of partings. One man is a blacksmith, another is a goldsmith. We are different now. I don't belong in London, and I don't belong in these fancy clothes. I am wrong when I am away from my forge or the marshes."
He looked at me kindly. "You won't find fault in me if you think of me in my forge dress, with my hammer in my hand. If you ever want to see me, come and put your head in at the forge window and see Joe the blacksmith at his work. God bless you, Pip, old chap!"
He touched my forehead gently and walked out. I realized then that Joe had a simple, true dignity that I was lacking. I ran out into the street to find him and bring him back, but he was already gone.