The fever is not so high as it was, but the
pain in the side, the cough, the emaciation are there still.
'Remember me kindly to all at Brookroyd, and believe me, yours
faithfully,
'C. BRONTE.'
TO MISS ELLEN NUSSEY
'_December_ 21_st_, 1848.
'MY DEAR ELLEN,--Emily suffers no more from pain or weakness now.
She will never suffer more in this world. She is gone, after a hard,
short conflict. She died on _Tuesday_, the very day I wrote to you.
I thought it very possible she might be with us still for weeks, and
a few hours afterwards she was in eternity. Yes, there is no Emily
in time or on earth now. Yesterday we put her poor, wasted, mortal
frame quietly under the church pavement. We are very calm at
present. Why should we be otherwise? The anguish of seeing her
suffer is over; the spectacle of the pains of death is gone by; the
funeral day is past. We feel she is at peace. No need now to
tremble for the hard frost and the keen wind. Emily does not feel
them. She died in a time of promise. We saw her taken from life in
its prime. But it is God's will, and the place where she is gone is
better than she has left.
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