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Chapter 17

           Shewasnotbeautiful—shewascommon,andcouldnotbelikeEstella—butshewaspleasantandwholesomeandsweet-tempered.Shehadnotbeenwithusmorethanayear(Irememberherbeingnewlyoutofmourningatthetimeitstruckme),whenIobservedtomyselfoneeveningthatshehadcuriouslythoughtfulandattentiveeyes;eyesthatwereveryprettyandverygood.

           ItcameofmyliftingupmyowneyesfromataskIwasporingat—writingsomepassagesfromabook,toimprovemyselfintwowaysatoncebyasortofstratagem—andseeingBiddyobservantofwhatIwasabout.Ilaiddownmypen,andBiddystoppedinherneedleworkwithoutlayingitdown.

           "Biddy,"saidI,"howdoyoumanageit?EitherIamverystupid,oryouareveryclever."

           "WhatisitthatImanage?Idon’tknow,"returnedBiddy,smiling.

           Shemanagedourwholedomesticlife,andwonderfullytoo;butIdidnotmeanthat,thoughthatmadewhatIdidmeanmoresurprising.

           "Howdoyoumanage,Biddy,"saidI,"tolearneverythingthatIlearn,andalwaystokeepupwithme?"Iwasbeginningtoberathervainofmyknowledge,forIspentmybirthdayguineasonit,andsetasidethegreaterpartofmypocket-moneyforsimilarinvestment;thoughIhavenodoubt,now,thatthelittleIknewwasextremelydearattheprice.

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