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Updated: June 18, 2025
All she wished was to quit the asylum as soon as she was restored to health, and prove to her husband, by her future conduct, the sincerity of her reformation. When she became convalescent, by the advice of Doctor Beddington, she walked in a garden appropriated for the exercise of the more harmless inmates of the asylum.
The latter gentleman kept aloof until the issue of Mrs Forster's malady should be ascertained: if she recovered, it was his intention to call upon Doctor Beddington and explain the circumstances; if she died, he had determined to say nothing about it. Mrs Forster's recovery was tedious; her mind was loaded with anxiety, and, what was infinitely more important, with deep remorse.
"I will have it so, Ramsden, so don't attempt to dissuade me; we are not married yet, and I must not be thwarted in my short supremacy. Surely you ought not to be displeased at my desire to `tame a shrew. I give a fair promise not to fall into an error which I so ardently detest: now, send for the chaise, write a letter to Doctor Beddington, and leave me to arrange with Mrs Forster."
But in the Wandle, at Carshalton and Beddington, the May-fly is not found; and the little blues are the constant, and, when well imitated, killing flies on this water; to which may be joined a dark alder-fly, and a red evening fly.
"Deb's hut," replied my friend, "is his lodging and his place of retirement, but food and clothing he procures by labouring on a neighbouring farm. This farm is next to that of Beddington, who consequently knows something of his present situation.
Ramsden, like many others when teased by a pretty woman, consented against his will; he wrote a letter to Doctor Beddington, explaining circumstances, and requesting his pardon for the liberty which he had been persuaded to take.
In a few minutes the servant reappeared with two keepers, who handed Mrs Forster out of the chaise, and conducted her to a receiving-room, where Mrs Forster waited some minutes in expectation of the appearance of Dr Beddington. In the meantime, Mr Ramsden's servant, having no further communication to make, left the letter for Dr Beddington, and returned in the chaise to Overton.
There is the letter to Dr Beddington, and Mr Ramsden's servant is in the chaise at the door: the sooner you are off the better; the people are so outrageous, and call you such shocking names." "Do they?" replied Mrs Forster, whose wrath kindled at the information. "Yes, indeed; and that wretch Betsy declares that she'll put the rope over your neck with her own hands."
There was a well-known bookmaker of my acquaintance whose whole mind was devoted to this passion; his lifetime was a gamble; everything seemed to be created to make a bet upon. Do what he would, go where he would, his thoughts were upon horse-racing. I was staying with Charley Carew, the owner and occupier of Beddington Park, with a small party of guests invited for shooting.
The latter gentleman kept aloof until the issue of Mrs Forster's malady should be ascertained: if she recovered, it was his intention to call upon Doctor Beddington and explain the circumstances; if she died, he had determined to say nothing about it. Mrs Forster's recovery was tedious; her mind was loaded with anxiety, and, what was infinitely more important, with deep remorse.
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