inevitably lose
its first ardor, and that love between man and wife must in the course of
time become either friendship or indifference. But while she had reasoned
dispassionately in an abstract treatise, she had not been equally
temperate in the direction of her own affairs. Her love for Imlay had not
passed into the second stage, but his had deteriorated into indifference
very quickly. Godwin was, as she well knew, in every way unlike Imlay.
That she felt perfect confidence in him is seen by her willingness to
live with him. But still, sure as she was of his innate uprightness, when
he suggested to her means by which to insure the continuance of his love,
she was only too glad to adopt them. She had learned, if not to be
prudent herself, at least to comply with the prudence of others.

It would not be well perhaps for every one to follow their plan of life,
but with them it succeeded admirably. Godwin remained in his lodgings,
Mary in hers. He continued his old routine of work, made his usual round
of visits, and went by himself, as of yore, to the theatre, and to the
dinners and suppers of his friends. Mary pursued uninterruptedly her
studies and writings, conducted her domestic concerns in the same way,
and sought her amusements singly, sometimes meeting Godwin quite
unexpectedly at the play or in private houses. His visits to her were as
irregular in point of time as they had previously been, and when one
wanted to make sure of the other for a certain hour or at a certain
place, a regular engagement had to be made. The thoroughness with which
they maintained their independence is illustrated by the following note
which Mary sent to Godwin one morning, about a month before their
marriage:--

"Did I not see you, friend Godwin, at the theatre last night? I
thought I met a smile, but you went out without looking around."

She was not mistaken. Godwin has recorded in his diary that he was at the
theatre on that particular occasion. They not only did not inform each
other of their movements, but they even considered it unnecessary to
speak when they met by chance. Godwin's realization of his theory further
confirmed him in the belief that in this particular he was right. When he
wrote "St. Leon," he is supposed to have intended Marguerite, the
heroine, for the picture of his wife. In that novel, in his account of
the hero's domestic affairs, he indirectly testifies to the merits of his
own home-life. St. Leon