re was nothing convulsed which gave
the idea of pain in her look; on the contrary, but
for the continual motion of the head, she gave one
the idea of a beautiful statue, and even now, in
her coffin, there is such a sweet, serene air over
her countenance as is quite pleasant to
contemplate.

This day, my dearest Fanny, you have had the
melancholy intelligence, and I know you suffer
severely, but I likewise know that you will apply
to the fountain-head for consolation, and that our
merciful God is never deaf to such prayers as you
will offer.

The last sad ceremony is to take place on Thursday
morning; her dear remains are to be deposited in
the Cathedral. It is a satisfaction to me to think
that they are to lie in a building she admired so
much; her precious soul, I presume to hope,
reposes in a far superior mansion. May mine one
day be re-united to it!

Your dear papa, your Uncle Henry, and Frank, and
Edwd. Austen instead of his father, will attend. I
hope they will none of them suffer lastingly from
their pious exertions. The ceremony must be over
before ten o'clock, as the Cathedral service
begins at that hour, so that we shall be at home
early in the day, for there will be nothing to
keep us here afterwards.

Your Uncle James came to us yesterday, and is gone
home to-day. Uncle H. goes to Chawton to-morrow
morning; he has given every necessary direction
here, and I think his company there will do good.
He returns to us again on Tuesday evening.

I did not think to have written a long letter when
I began, but I have found the employment draw me
on, and I hope I shall have been giving you more
pleasure than pain. Remember me kindly to Mrs. J.
Bridges (I am so glad she is with you now), and
give my best love to Lizzie and all the others.

I am, my dearest Fanny,
Most affectionately yours,
CASS. ELIZ. AUSTEN.

I have said nothing about those at Chawton,
because I am sure you hear from your papa.

During these sad days, Anna Lefr