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.