I stammered yes, that was it.

“Good.  Now, your inclinations are to be consulted.  I don’t think that wise, mind, but it’s my trust.  Have you ever heard of any tutor whom you would prefer to another?”

I had never heard of any tutor but Biddy and Mr. Wopsle’s greataunt; so, I replied in the negative.

“There is a certain tutor, of whom I have some knowledge, who I think might suit the purpose,” said Mr. Jaggers.  “I don’t recommend him, observe; because I never recommend anybody.  The gentleman I speak of, is one Mr. Matthew Pocket.”

Ah!  I caught at the name directly.  Miss Havisham’s relation.  The Matthew whom Mr. and Mrs. Camilla had spoken of.  The Matthew whose place was to be at Miss Havisham’s head, when she lay dead, in her bride’s dress on the bride’s table.

“You know the name?” said Mr. Jaggers, looking shrewdly at me, and then shutting up his eyes while he waited for my answer.

My answer was, that I had heard of the name.

“Oh!” said he.  “You have heard of the name.  But the question is, what do you say of it?”

I said, or tried to say, that I was much obliged to him for his recommendation—­

“No, my young friend!” he interrupted, shaking his great head very slowly.  “Recollect yourself!”

Not recollecting myself, I began again that I was much obliged to him for his recommendation—­

“No, my young friend,” he interrupted, shaking his head and frowning and smiling both at once; “no, no, no; it’s very well done, but it won’t do; you are too young to fix me with it.  Recommendation is not the word, Mr. Pip.  Try another.”

Correcting myself, I said that I was much obliged to him for his mention of Mr. Matthew Pocket—­

“That’s more like it!” cried Mr. Jaggers.

- And (I added), I would gladly try that gentleman.

“Good.  You had better try him in his own house.  The way shall be prepared for you, and you can see his son first, who is in London.  When will you come to London?”

I said (glancing at Joe, who stood looking on, motionless), that I supposed I could come directly.

“First,” said Mr. Jaggers, “you should have some new clothes to come in, and they should not be working clothes.  Say this day week.  You’ll want some money.  Shall I leave you twenty guineas?”

He produced a long purse, with the greatest coolness, and counted them out on the table and pushed them over to me.  This was the first time he had taken his leg from the chair.  He sat astride of the chair when he had pushed the money over, and sat swinging his purse and eyeing Joe.

“Well, Joseph Gargery?  You look dumbfoundered?”

“I am!” said Joe, in a very decided manner.

“It was understood that you wanted nothing for yourself, remember?”

“It were understood,” said Joe.  “And it are understood.  And it ever will be similar according.”