erday, would have only conveyed
the notion that she was about to be removed to Northumberland, to her own
home. I should not have suspected that it meant she was dying; but I
knew instantly now! It opened clear on my comprehension that Helen Burns
was numbering her last days in this world, and that she was going to be
taken to the region of spirits, if such region there were. I experienced
a shock of horror, then a strong thrill of grief, then a desire--a
necessity to see her; and I asked in what room she lay.

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

"May I go up and speak to her?"

"Oh no, child! It is not likely; and now it is time for you to come in;
you'll catch the fever if you stop out when the dew is falling."

The nurse closed the front door; I went in by the side entrance which led
to the schoolroom: I was just in time; it was nine o'clock, and Miss
Miller was calling the pupils to go to bed.

It might be two hours later, probably near eleven, when I--not having
been able to fall asleep, and deeming, from the perfect silence of the
dormitory, that my companions were all wrapt in profound repose--rose
softly, put on my frock over my night-dress, and, without shoes, crept
from the apartment, and set off in quest of Miss Temple's room. It was
quite at the other end of the house; but I knew my way; and the light of
the unclouded summer moon, entering here and there at passage windows,
enabled me to find it without difficulty. An odour of camphor and burnt
vinegar warned me when I came near the fever room: and I passed its door
quickly, fearful lest the nurse who sat up all night should hear me. I
dreaded being discovered and sent back; for I _must_ see Helen,--I must
embrace her before she died,--I must give her one last kiss, exchange
with her one last word.

Having descended a staircase, traversed a portion of the house below, and
succeeded in opening and shutting, without noise, two doors, I reached
another flight of steps; these I mounted, and then just opposite to me
was Miss Temple's room. A light shone through the keyhole and from under
the door; a profound stillness pervaded the vicinity. Coming near, I
found the door slightly ajar; probably to admit some fresh air into the
close abode of sickness. Indisposed to hesitate, and full of impatient
impulses--soul and senses quivering with keen throes--I put it back and
looked in. My eye sought Helen, and feared to find death.

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