It is impossible to imagine a period of greater pain and mortification than Mary passed, for about seven weeks, from the sixteenth of April to the sixth of June, in a furnished house that Mr. Imlay had provided for her.  She had come over to England, a country for which she, at this time, expressed “a repugnance, that almost amounted to horror,” in search of happiness.  She feared that that happiness had altogether escaped her; but she was encouraged by the eagerness and impatience which Mr. Imlay at length seemed to manifest for her arrival.  When she saw him, all her fears were confirmed.  What a picture was she capable of forming to herself, of the overflowing kindness of a meeting, after an interval of so much anguish and apprehension!  A thousand images of this sort were present to her burning imagination.  It is in vain, on such occasions, for reserve and reproach to endeavour to curb in the emotions of an affectionate heart.  But the hopes she nourished were speedily blasted.  Her reception by Mr. Imlay, was cold and embarrassed.  Discussions ("explanations” they were called) followed; cruel explanations, that only added to the anguish of a heart already overwhelmed in grief!  They had small pretensions indeed to explicitness; but they sufficiently told, that the case admitted not of remedy.

Mary was incapable of sustaining her equanimity in this pressing emergency.  “Love, dear, delusive love!” as she expressed herself to a friend some time afterwards, “rigorous reason had forced her to resign; and now her rational prospects were blasted, just as she had learned to be contented with rational enjoyments”.  Thus situated, life became an intolerable burthen.  While she was absent from Mr. Imlay, she could talk of purposes of reparation and independence.  But, now that they were in the same house, she could not withhold herself from endeavours to revive their mutual cordiality; and unsuccessful endeavours continually added fuel to the fire that destroyed her.  She formed a desperate purpose to die.

This part of the story of Mary is involved in considerable obscurity.  I only know, that Mr. Imlay became acquainted with her purpose, at a moment when he was uncertain whether or no it were already executed, and that his feelings were roused by the intelligence.  It was perhaps owing to his activity and representations, that her life was, at this time, saved.  She determined to continue to exist.  Actuated by this purpose, she took a resolution, worthy both of the strength and affectionateness of her mind.  Mr. Imlay was involved in a question of considerable difficulty, respecting a mercantile adventure in Norway.  It seemed to require the presence of some very judicious agent, to conduct the business to its desired termination.  Mary determined to make the voyage, and take the business into her own hands.  Such a voyage seemed the most desireable thing to recruit her health, and, if possible, her spirits, in the present crisis.  It was also gratifying to her feelings, to be employed in promoting the interest of a man, from whom she had experienced such severe unkindness, but to whom she ardently desired to be reconciled.  The moment of desperation I have mentioned, occurred in the close of May, and, in about a week after, she set out upon this new expedition.