courage,' and it burst forth in brief but agonising strength.
Charlotte's affection, however, had another channel, and there it
turned in thought, in care, and in tenderness. There was
bereavement, but there was not solitude;--sympathy was at hand,
and it was accepted. With calmness, came the consideration of the
removal of the dear remains to their home resting-place. This
melancholy task, however, was never performed; for the afflicted
sister decided to lay the flower in the place where it had
fallen. She believed that to do so would accord with the wishes
of the departed. She had no preference for place. She thought not
of the grave, for that is but the body's goal, but of all that is
beyond it.

"Her remains rest,

'Where the south sun warms the now dear sod,
Where the ocean billows lave and strike the steep and
turf-covered rock.'"

Anne died on the Monday. On the Tuesday Charlotte wrote to her
father; but, knowing that his presence was required for some
annual Church solemnity at Haworth, she informed him that she had
made all necessary arrangements for the interment and that the
funeral would take place so soon, that he could hardly arrive in
time for it. The surgeon who had visited Anne on the day of her
death, offered his attendance, but it was respectfully declined.

Mr. Bronte wrote to urge Charlotte's longer stay at the seaside.
Her health and spirits were sorely shaken; and much as he
naturally longed to see his only remaining child, he felt it