It was a sad day when the intelligence of this young creature's death arrived.

Charlotte wrote thus on January 12th, 1840:-- "Your letter, which I received this morning, was one of painful interest.

Anne C., it seems, is _dead_; when I saw her last, she was a young, beautiful, and happy girl; and now 'life's fitful fever' is over with her, and she 'sleeps well.' I shall never see her again.

It is a sorrowful thought; for she was a warm-hearted, affectionate being, and I cared for her.

Wherever I seek for her now in this world, she cannot be found, no more than a flower or a leaf which withered twenty years ago.