Love does not see so clearly.
"Where people are tied for life, 'tis their mutual interest not to grow weary of one another," she wrote on April 25, 1710.

"If I had all the personal charms that I want, a face is too slight a foundation for happiness.

You would be soon tired with seeing every day the same thing.
Where you saw nothing else, you would have leisure to remark all the defects; which would increase in proportion as the novelty lessened, which is always a great charm.

I should have the displeasure of seeing a coldness, which, though I could not reasonably blame you for, being involuntary, yet it would render me uneasy; and the more, because I know a love may be revived which absence, inconstancy, or even infidelity, has extinguished; but there is no returning from a _degout_ given by satiety." Perhaps Lady Mary believed that, while it is well to hope for the best, it is sound policy to prepare for the worst.
Montagu may have found some comfort in the lady's assurance that if she had a choice between two thousand a year or twenty thousand a year she would choose the smaller income.
An apartment in London would satisfy Lady Mary.

She would not choose to live in a crowd, but would like to have a small circle of agreeable people--she was very precise as to her desires: actually she wants to see eight or nine pleasant folk.