You left me indiſpoſed, though you have taken no notice of it; and the moſt fatiguing journey I ever had, contributed to continue it. However, I recovered my health; but a neglected cold, and continual inquietude during the laſt two months, have reduced me to a ſtate of weakneſs I never before experienced. Thoſe who did not know that the canker-worm was at work at the core, cautioned me about ſuckling my child too long.—God preſerve this poor child, and render her happier than her mother!
But I am wandering from my ſubject: indeed my head turns giddy, when I think that all the confidence I have had in the affection of others is come to this.
I did not expect this blow from you. I have done my duty to you and my child; and if I am not to have any return of affection to reward me, I have the ſad conſolation of knowing that I deſerved a better fate. My ſoul is weary—I am ſick at heart; and, but for this little darling, I would ceaſe to care about a life, which is now ſtripped of every charm.
You ſee how ſtupid I am, uttering declamation, when I meant ſimply to tell you, that I conſider your requeſting me to come to you, as merely dictated by honour.—Indeed, I ſcarcely underſtand you.—You requeſt me to come, and then tell me, that you have not given up all thoughts of returning to this place.
When I determined to live with you, I was only governed by affection.—I would ſhare poverty with you, but I turn with affright from the ſea of trouble on which you are entering.—I have certain principles of action: I know what I look for to found my happineſs on.—It is not money.—With you I wiſhed for ſufficient to procure the comforts of life—as it is, leſs will do.—I can ſtill exert myſelf to obtain the neceſſaries of life for my child, and ſhe does not want more at preſent.—I have two or three plans in my head to earn our ſubſiſtence; for do not ſuppoſe that, neglected by you, I will lie under obligations of a pecuniary kind to you!—No; I would ſooner ſubmit to menial ſervice.—I wanted the ſupport of your affection—that gone, all is over!—I did not think, when I complained of ——'s contemptible avidity to accumulate money, that he would have dragged you into his ſchemes.
I cannot write.—I incloſe a fragment of a letter, written ſoon after your departure, and another which tenderneſs made me keep back when it was written.—You will ſee then the ſentiments of a calmer, though not a more determined, moment.—Do not inſult me by ſaying, that "our being together is paramount to every other conſideration!" Were it, you would not be running after a bubble, at the expence of my peace of mind.
Perhaps this is the laſt letter you will ever receive from me.
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