Three months after, her only
friend, the mother of her lost Henry began to be alarmed, at observing her
altered appearance; and made her own health a pretext for travelling. These
complaints roused Mary out of her torpid state; she imagined a new duty now
forced her to exert herself—a duty love made sacred!—
They went to Bath, from that
to Bristol; but the latter place they quickly left; the sight of the sick that
resort there, they neither of them could bear. From Bristol they flew to
Southampton. The road was pleasant—yet Mary shut her eyes;—or if they were open, green fields and commons, passed in quick succession,
and left no more traces behind than if they had been waves of the sea.
Some time after they were
settled at Southampton, they met the man who took so much notice of Mary, soon
after her return to England. He renewed his acquaintance; he was really
interested in her fate, as he had heard her uncommon story; besides, he knew
her husband; knew him to be a good-natured, weak man. He saw him soon after his
arrival in his native country, and prevented his hastening to enquire into the
reasons of Mary's strange conduct. He desired him not to be too precipitate, if
he ever wished to possess an invaluable treasure. He was guided by him, and
allowed him to follow Mary to Southampton, and speak first to her friend.
This friend
determined to trust to her native strength of mind, and informed her of the
circumstance; but she overrated it: Mary was not able, for a few days after the
intelligence, to fix on the mode of conduct she ought now to pursue. But at
last she conquered her disgust, and wrote her husband an account of what
had passed since she had dropped his correspondence.
He came in person to answer
the letter. Mary fainted when he approached her unexpectedly. Her disgust
returned with additional force, in spite of previous reasonings,
whenever he appeared; yet she was prevailed on to promise to live with him, if
he would permit her to pass one year, travelling from place to place; he was
not to accompany her.
The time too quickly elapsed,
and she gave him her hand—the struggle was almost more
than she could endure. She tried to appear calm; time mellowed her grief, and
mitigated her torments; but when her husband would take her hand, or mention
any thing like love, she would instantly feel a sickness, a faintness at her
heart, and wish, involuntarily, that the earth would open and swallow her.