Posthumous Works of Mary Wollstonecraft/Volume 3/Letter 51
LETTER LI.
Sunday Morning.
The captain last night, after I had written my letter to you intended to be left at a little village, offered to go to to pass to-day. We had a troublesome sail—and now I must hurry on board again, for the wind has changed.
I half expected to find a letter from you here. Had you written one haphazard, it would have been kind and considerate—you might have known, had you thought, that the wind would not permit me to depart. These are attentions, more grateful to the heart than offers of service—But why do I foolishly continue to look for them?
Adieu! adieu! My friend—your friendship is very cold—you see I am hurt.—God bless you! I may perhaps be, some time or other, independent in every sense of the word—Ah! there is but one sense of it of consequence. I will break or bend this weak heart—yet even now it is full.
Yours sincerely
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The child is well; I did not leave her on board.