Chapter 10 The death of Helen

1 As spring advanced, the discomforts of Lowood lessened. The nights were not so bitterly cold, the snows melted, the sharp winds became milder. We could now enjoy the play-hour passed in the garden. On Thursday afternoons (half-holidays) we now went for walks, and I learnt for the first time to take pleasure in fine scenery, in the hills that enclosed our wooded valley. Trees, flowers, and the rushing streams, all delighted me.

2 But although the neighbourhood was pleasant, it was unhealthy. Before May arrived, a fever had attacked the crowded schoolroom and turned the orphanage into a hospital.

3 Too little food, and neglected colds, made most of the pupils tend to catch the disease easily. Forty-five out of the eighty girls lay ill at one time. Classes were broken up, rules were forgotten. The few who remained well were allowed almost unlimited freedom, because the doctor insisted on the necessity of frequent exercise to keep them in health. Miss Temple's whole attention was taken up by the sick. The teachers were fully occupied in helping the girls who were fortunate enough to have friends and relations willing to remove them from danger, to pack and leave. Many left only to die.

4 But I, and the rest who continued well, did what we liked and went where we liked. Mr Brocklehurst and his family never came near Lowood now. We lived for whole days out of doors.

5 And where, meanwhile, was Helen Burns? She was ill. For some weeks she had been removed from my sight to some room upstairs. She was not, I was told, in the same part of the house as the fever patients, as her illness was a disease of the lungs. This, I wrongly believed, was something mild which time and care would be sure to cure. The idea was strengthened by the fact that she once or twice came downstairs on very warm sunny afternoons, and was taken by Miss Temple into the garden, but I was not allowed to go and speak to her.

6 One evening the doctor appeared at an unusual hour, a sign that someone was very ill. I was near the front door when he left, and I ran up to the nurse who had been speaking to him.

7 'How is Helen Burns?'

8 'Very weak,' was the answer.

9 'What does the doctor say about her?'

10 'He says she'll not be here long.'

11 At ordinary times I should have taken this sentence to mean merely that Helen was going to her own home. I should not have suspected that it meant that she was dying, but I knew instantly now. I experienced a shock of horror, then a strong feeling of sorrow, and then a desire, a need to see her. I asked in which room she lay.

12 'She is in Miss Temple's room,' said the nurse.

13 'May I go and speak to her?'

14 'No, child.'

15 It was just nine o'clock, and Miss Miller was calling the pupils to go to bed. I went with the rest.

16 Two hours later, I rose softly and crept without shoes in search of Miss Temple's room. It was at the other end of the house, but I knew my way. I passed quickly by the fever room, fearing that the nurse who sat up all night might hear me.

17 Close by Miss Temple's bed, stood a smaller one. I saw the shape of a body under the bed clothes. The nurse to whom I had spoken in the garden was sitting in a chair asleep. Miss Temple was not to be seen. I learnt afterwards that she had been called to the bedside of another patient. I approached.

18 'Helen!' I whispered softly. 'Are you awake?'

19 She moved slightly, and I saw her calm, pale face.

20 'Is it you, Jane?' she asked, in her own gentle voice.

21 'Oh!' I thought. 'She is not going to die. They are mistaken. She could not speak and look so calmly if she were.'

22 'Why have you come here, Jane? It is past eleven o'clock. I heard the clock strike a few minutes ago.'

23 'I came to see you, Helen. I heard you were very ill, and I could not sleep until I had spoken to you.'

24 'You came to say goodbye to me, then. You are just in time, probably.'

25 'Are you going somewhere, Helen?'

26 'Yes, to my last home.'

27 'No, no, Helen!' I stopped, in despair. While I tried to keep back my tears, Helen began to cough. After a long silence, she whispered:

28 'I am very happy, Jane, and when you hear them say that I am dead, you must not be sad. We must all die one day, and the illness which is removing me is gentle and gradual. My mind is at rest. I leave no one to regret me much. I have only a father, and he has lately re-married, and will not miss me. I am going to God.'

29 In a little while she added:

30 'How comfortable I am! That last attack of coughing has tired me a little. I feel as if I could sleep. Don't leave me, Jane. I like you to be near me.'

31 'I'll stay with you, dear Helen. No one shall take me away.' I lay down beside her. She kissed me, and we both soon slept.

32 When I awoke, it was day, and Helen was ... dead.