Chapter IX. By the Mademoiselle Lagrange, of

Eugène Sue's _Miss Mary ou By Currer Bell. L'Institutrice_.

The death of Helen Burns. The death of Agnes Jones.

That forest dell, where Lowood The Master of the Kendall lay, was the cradle of ... Institution ... had ... been fog-bred pestilence, which ... very much shocked by the ravages crept into the Orphan Asylum, of typhus fever, and since the breathed typhus through [it] ... reports of Agnes's health had and transformed the seminary become serious, had sent several into a hospital.... One evening times to ascertain how she ... Mr. Bates came out, and ... was.... "Miss Bell, I am come to a nurse.... I ran up to her. inquire after our friend, Miss Jones." "How is Helen Burns?" "... Agnes is always calm and "Very poorly," was the easy-minded.... This is very answer.... Two hours later ... I kind of you." reached ... Miss Temple's room, ... I looked in. My eye sought ... As I was preparing to lie Helen, and feared to find down in the room, Agnes called death.... "Helen!" I whispered to me:-- softly; "are you awake?" "Catherine, my dear, I feel ... I got on to her crib and rather cold to-night; will you kissed her: her forehead was sleep with me?" cold, and her cheek both cold and thin, and so were her hand Of course I complied, and we lay and wrist, but she smiled as of talking in each other's arms old. until the sweet dove fell asleep. Poor Agnes, she was "Jane, ... lie down and cover indeed cold; a strange chill yourself with the quilt." came through me as I lay by her side.... I still heard my sister I did so: she put her arm over orphan breathe and pant.... Why me, and I nestled close to her. did I listen ... so greedily? Why--when the poor thing turned ... I clasped my arms closer round once in the night, and round Helen; she seemed dearer said: "Another kiss, to me than ever; I felt as if I Catherine!"--why did I feel in could not let her go; I lay with giving it her, as if a hundred my face hidden on her neck. steel arrows had gone through my Presently she said:--"... Don't heart? How long I lay awake and leave me, Jane; I like to have thinking--wondering at the cold you near me." emerging from the pure body at my side, I know not! I must have "I'll stay with you, _dear_ slept, too; for I remember Helen; no one shall take me opening my eyes with the first away."... She kissed me, and I dawn, before the bells rang. her; and we soon slumbered. When I awoke it was day; an unusual "Agnes!" said I, softly; "are movement roused me. you awake?"

A day or two afterwards, I But there was no answer!... I learned that Miss Temple, on called again--then a third, and returning to her own room at a fourth time! But still ... no dawn, had found me laid in a reply! Wondering at this little crib; my face against silence, ... I listened for that Helen Burn's shoulder, my arms hard breathing I knew so well. round her neck. I was asleep, But nothing--not a sound could I and Helen was--dead. hear! Alarmed, but unwilling to trust my fears, I felt for her hand. Oh, God! it was cold as ice, and rigid as stone! Wild with affright, ... I started up ... and rushed out to call the Superintendent [Miss Temple]. I found her preparing to come to us.... When we entered the chamber, we found no Agnes there! No; her spirit had fled, and all we saw was the lifeless body of a poor houseless girl.

Another biographical passage occurs where Catherine Bell first sees the Miss Temple of "Lagrange's Manuscript," who herself, under the name of Ashton (Eshton),[59] is at times Miss Brontë, who took the name of the original of Miss Temple (Evans) for herself in the phase of Frances Evans Henri in _The Professor_, a work not published, we must note, till after Charlotte Brontë's death:--

"I love you, madam," I said.

"Your name, I believe, is Catherine Bell, is it not?"

"Kitty Bell, if you please, madam," I answered.

"Kitty Bell at home, my dear, but here we must call you Catherine; for a school, you know, is where many forms must be observed. How old are you?"

"I shall be ten next birthday, madam."

"And when will that be?"

"On the 23rd of April."

"Shakespeare's Day, I declare!"

The above is, of course, not in _Jane Eyre_. There is a stroke of sarcasm in the last sentence. It would appear that Currer Bell playfully had moved her birthday forward two days, in her private conversation with one from whom M. Sue had gleaned information--and this could be only M. Héger himself. Charlotte Brontë, as Lucy Snowe, in _Villette_,