determined to sail for London by the very first opportunity, that she
might thus bring to a termination the suspence that preyed upon her
soul.

It was not long after her arrival in London in the commencement of
October, that she attained the certainty she sought. Mr. Imlay procured
her a lodging. But the neglect she experienced from him after she
entered it, flashed conviction upon her, in spite of his asseverations.
She made further enquiries, and at length was informed by a servant, of
the real state of the case. Under the immediate shock which the painful
certainty gave her, her first impulse was to repair to him at the
ready-furnished house he had provided for his new mistress. What was the
particular nature of their conference I am unable to relate. It is
sufficient to say that the wretchedness of the night which succeeded
this fatal discovery, impressed her with the feeling, that she would
sooner suffer a thousand deaths, than pass another of equal misery.

The agony of her mind determined her; and that determination gave her a
sort of desperate serenity. She resolved to plunge herself in the
Thames; and, not being satisfied with any spot nearer to London, she
took a boat, and rowed to Putney. Her first thought had led her to
Battersea-bridge, but she found it too public. It was night when she
arrived at Putney, and by that time had begun to rain with great
violence. The rain suggested to her the idea of walking up and down the
bridge, till her clothes were thoroughly drenched and heavy with the
wet, which she did for half an hour without meeting a human being. She
then leaped from the top of the bridge, but still seemed to find a
difficulty in sinking, which she endeavoured to counteract by pressing
her clothes closely round her. After some time she became insensible;
but she always spoke of the pain she underwent as such, that, though she