_Past Twelve o’Clock, Monday Night
[Paris, Aug. 1793]._

I obey an emotion of my heart, which made me think of wishing thee, my
love, good-night! before I go to rest, with more tenderness than I can
to-morrow, when writing a hasty line or two under Colonel —-‘s eye. You
can scarcely imagine with what pleasure I anticipate the day, when we are
to begin almost to live together; and you would smile to hear how many
plans of employment I have in my head, now that I am confident my heart
has found peace in your bosom.–Cherish me with that dignified tenderness,
which I have only found in you; and your own dear girl will try to keep
under a quickness of feeling, that has sometimes given you pain.–Yes, I
will be _good_, that I may deserve to be happy; and whilst you love me, I
cannot again fall into the miserable state, which rendered life a burthen
almost too heavy to be borne.

But, good-night!–God bless you! Sterne says, that is equal to a kiss–yet
I would rather give you the kiss into the bargain, glowing with gratitude
to Heaven, and affection to you. I like the word affection, because it
signifies something habitual; and we are soon to meet, to try whether we
have mind enough to keep our hearts warm.

MARY.

I will be at the barrier a little after ten o’clock to-morrow.[2]–Yours–