THE BRONTES 1^1
chair, sat by the lodging-house window (No. 2
Cliff, now pulled down), and looked at the sea
which was calm as glass. Then, two days later
(May 28th, 1849), s^e died, conscious to the last
and peacefully. She was buried in Scarborough
churchyard.
Charlotte stayed on there for a fortnight with
Ellen before returning to a desolate home. Yet
not quite desolate, Charlotte tried to feel : " Papa
is there, and two most affectionate and faithful
servants, and two old dogs, in their way as faithful
and affectionate - Emily's large house-dog \vhich
lay at the side of her dying bed and followed her
funeral to the vault, lying in the pew couched at
our feet while the burial service was being read
- and Anne's little spaniel ... I am certain they
thought that, as I was returned, my sisters were
not far behind,55 . . * " I left papa soon and went
into the dining-room. I shut the door. I tried
to be glad that I was come home. I have always
been glad before - except once ; even then I was
cheered. But this time joy was not to be the
sensation. . . . The sense of desolation and bitter-
ness took possession of me."
" Labour must be the cure, not sympathy.55
Pathetic Charlotte, for ever putting herself to
school ! With that resolve, she forced her pain-
stricken mind to work again ; to finish Shirley,
already begun ; to edit, in that room haunted by
her sisters' presences and memories of evenings
spent in writing there and in pacing together
round the table, a new edition of Wuthering Heights
and Agnes Grey and another selection of poems ;