Jane Eyre - Page 71/412

Close by Miss Temple's bed, and half covered with its white

curtains, there stood a little crib. I saw the outline of a form

under the clothes, but the face was hid by the hangings: the nurse

I had spoken to in the garden sat in an easy-chair asleep; an

unsnuffed candle burnt dimly on the table. Miss Temple was not to

be seen: I knew afterwards that she had been called to a delirious

patient in the fever-room. I advanced; then paused by the crib

side: my hand was on the curtain, but I preferred speaking before I

withdrew it. I still recoiled at the dread of seeing a corpse.

"Helen!" I whispered softly, "are you awake?"

She stirred herself, put back the curtain, and I saw her face, pale,

wasted, but quite composed: she looked so little changed that my

fear was instantly dissipated.

"Can it be you, Jane?" she asked, in her own gentle voice.

"Oh!" I thought, "she is not going to die; they are mistaken: she

could not speak and look so calmly if she were."

I got on to her crib and kissed her: her forehead was cold, and her

cheek both cold and thin, and so were her hand and wrist; but she

smiled as of old.

"Why are you come here, Jane? It is past eleven o'clock: I heard

it strike some minutes since."

"I came to see you, Helen: I heard you were very ill, and I could

not sleep till I had spoken to you."

"You came to bid me good-bye, then: you are just in time probably."

"Are you going somewhere, Helen? Are you going home?"

"Yes; to my long home--my last home."

"No, no, Helen!" I stopped, distressed. While I tried to devour my

tears, a fit of coughing seized Helen; it did not, however, wake the

nurse; when it was over, she lay some minutes exhausted; then she

whispered "Jane, your little feet are bare; lie down and cover yourself with

my quilt."

I did so: she put her arm over me, and I nestled close to her.

After a long silence, she resumed, still whispering "I am very happy, Jane; and when you hear that I am dead, you must

be sure and not grieve: there is nothing to grieve about. We all

must die one day, and the illness which is removing me is not

painful; it is gentle and gradual: my mind is at rest. I leave no

one to regret me much: I have only a father; and he is lately

married, and will not miss me. By dying young, I shall escape great

sufferings. I had not qualities or talents to make my way very well

in the world: I should have been continually at fault."