’I do not know how early the alarming symptoms of her malady came on.  It was in the following March that I had the first idea of her being seriously ill.  It had been settled that about the end of that month, or the beginning of April, I should spend a few days at Chawton, in the absence of my father and mother, who were just then engaged with Mrs. Leigh Perrot in arranging her late husband’s affairs; but Aunt Jane became too ill to have me in the house, and so I went instead to my sister Mrs. Lefroy at Wyards’.  The next day we walked over to Chawton to make enquiries after our aunt.  She was then keeping her room, but said she would see us, and we went up to her.  She was in her dressing gown, and was sitting quite like an invalid in an arm- chair, but she got up and kindly greeted us, and then, pointing to seats which had been arranged for us by the fire, she said, “There is a chair for the married lady, and a little stool for you, Caroline.” {171} It is strange, but those trifling words were the last of hers that I can remember, for I retain no recollection of what was said by anyone in the conversation that ensued.  I was struck by the alteration in herself.  She was very pale, her voice was weak and low, and there was about her a general appearance of debility and suffering; but I have been told that she never had much acute pain.  She was not equal to the exertion of talking to us, and our visit to the sick room was a very short one, Aunt Cassandra soon taking us away.  I do not suppose we stayed a quarter of an hour; and I never saw Aunt Jane again.’

In May 1817 she was persuaded to remove to Winchester, for the sake of medical advice from Mr. Lyford.  The Lyfords have, for some generations, maintained a high character in Winchester for medical skill, and the Mr. Lyford of that day was a man of more than provincial reputation, in whom great London practitioners expressed confidence.  Mr. Lyford spoke encouragingly.  It was not, of course, his business to extinguish hope in his patient, but I believe that he had, from the first, very little expectation of a permanent cure.  All that was gained by the removal from home was the satisfaction of having done the best that could be done, together with such alleviations of suffering as superior medical skill could afford.

Jane and her sister Cassandra took lodgings in College Street.  They had two kind friends living in the Close, Mrs. Heathcote and Miss Bigg, the mother and aunt of the present Sir Wm. Heathcote of Hursley, between whose family and ours a close friendship has existed for several generations.  These friends did all that they could to promote the comfort of the sisters, during that sad sojourn in Winchester, both by their society, and by supplying those little conveniences in which a lodging-house was likely to be deficient.  It was shortly after settling in these lodgings that she wrote to a nephew the following characteristic letter, no longer, alas in her former strong, clear hand.