“My dear Everina,—Though I
know it is impossible for you to have answered either of my last letters, yet I
feel vexed at not hearing from you. I am so eager for you to say you have
procured a situation for me in Dublin. I now have only ten days to spend at
Pembroke, yet am quite uncertain what ‘poor
Bess’s’ future fate is to be. I mean to stay with my
father a week, or little more, so
write and tell me the price of the new stage from Waterford to the capital.
Also inform me from what inn it sets off, not forgetting the hour. There is no
vessel now that can sail for Ireland, so I must send my box to London, and from
thence to our mother country. What say you to Mrs
Imlay’s friendly epistle? I told you I returned it with
only these words: ‘Mrs B. has
never received any money from America.’ Nine days have now
elapsed, and here I am waiting for your letter, my dear
Everina. Can you blame me for returning Mrs
I.’s letter? I am sick of thinking on the subject, and
weary of anticipating ought from to-morrow. If it is impossible to procure me
bread immediately, perhaps George would
permit me to remain with him until you succeed. Recollect I value not what
situation you get me—agreeable or disagreeable will be equally acceptable to
the sister of the author of the ‘Rights of Women.’ I now have not
the smallest wish to quit Wales, nor are my prospects in the least cheered by
the idea of seeing you so soon. For I am sick to death of arguing and
accounting for the unaccountable events of this wretched life, and as
thoroughly tired of the lingering existence I have dragged on year after year,
spring after spring. To receive aught now from your Mary
appears to me to be the height of meanness. Would to God we were both in
America with Charles. Do you think it
would be possible for us to go from
| 226 | WILLIAM GODWIN |
“Good night.”
