_[Havre] April 7 [1795]._
Here I am at Havre, on the wing towards you, and I write now, only to tell
you, that you may expect me in the course of three or four days; for I
shall not attempt to give vent to the different emotions which agitate my
heart--You may term a feeling, which appears to me to be a degree of
delicacy that naturally arises from sensibility, pride--Still I cannot
indulge the very affectionate tenderness which glows in my bosom, without
trembling, till I see, by your eyes, that it is mutual.
I sit, lost in thought, looking at the sea--and tears rush into my eyes,
when I find that I am cherishing any fond expectations.--I have indeed
been so unhappy this winter, I find it as difficult to acquire fresh
hopes, as to regain tranquillity.--Enough of this--lie still, foolish
heart!--But for the little girl, I could almost wish that it should cease
to beat, to be no more alive to the anguish of disappointment.
Sweet little creature! I deprived myself of my only pleasure, when I
weaned her, about ten days ago.--I am however glad I conquered my
repugnance.--It was necessary it should be done soon, and I did not wish
to embitter the renewal of your acquaintance with her, by putting it off
till we met.--It was a painful exertion to me, and I thought it best to
throw this inquietude with the rest, into the sack that I would fain throw
over my shoulder.--I wished to endure it alone, in short--Yet, after
sending her to sleep in the next room for three or four nights, you cannot
think with what joy I took her back again to sleep in my bosom!
I suppose I shall find you, when I arrive, for I do not see any necessity
for your coming to me.--Pray inform Mr. ----, that I have his little
friend with me.--My wishing to oblige him, made me put myself to some
inconvenience----and delay my departure; which was irksome to me, who have
not quite as much philosophy, I would not for the world say indifference,
as you. God bless you!
Yours truly
MARY.