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Updated: May 6, 2025
The latter then saw that it was Charlson, a surgeon of the town, who owed him money. Charlson was a man not without ability; yet he did not prosper.
Barnet, Charlson resumed, 'that little matter between us I hope to settle it finally in three weeks at least. 'Never mind that now, said Barnet abruptly. He directed the surgeon to go to the harbour in case his services might even now be necessary there: and himself entered the house. The servants were coming from his wife's chamber, looking helplessly at each other and at him.
Charlson had been in difficulties, and to oblige him Barnet had put his name to a bill; and, as he had expected, was called upon to meet it when it fell due. It had been only a matter of fifty pounds, which Barnet could well afford to lose, and he bore no ill-will to the thriftless surgeon on account of it.
Downe, and that his stay would be of no avail, he left Downe with his friends and the young doctor, and once more hastened back to his own house. At the door he met Charlson. 'Well! Barnet said. 'I have just come down, said the doctor; 'we have done everything, but without result. I sympathize with you in your bereavement.
But Charlson had a little too much brazen indifferentism in his composition to be altogether a desirable acquaintance. 'I hope to be able to make that little bill-business right with you in the course of three weeks, Mr. Barnet, said Charlson with hail-fellow friendliness. Barnet replied good-naturedly that there was no hurry.
George Barnet, which many men would have thought full value received the chance to marry your Lucy. As far as the world was concerned, your wife was a drowned woman, hey? 'Heaven forbid all that, Charlson! 'Well, well, 'twas a wrong way of showing gratitude, I suppose. And now a drop of something to drink for old acquaintance' sake! And Mr.
This particular three weeks had moved on in advance of Charlson's present with the precision of a shadow for some considerable time. 'I've had a dream, Charlson continued. Barnet knew from his tone that the surgeon was going to begin his characteristic nonsense, and did not encourage him. 'I've had a dream, repeated Charlson, who required no encouragement.
Halfway between the shore and Port-Bredy town he had met Charlson, who had been the first surgeon to hear of the accident. He was accompanied by his assistant in a gig. Barnet had sent on the latter to the coast in case that Downe's poor wife should by that time have been reclaimed from the waves, and had brought Charlson back with him to the house.
Barnet did not much appreciate Charlson's sympathy, which sounded to his ears as something of a mockery from the lips of a man who knew what Charlson knew about their domestic relations. Indeed there seemed an odd spark in Charlson's full black eye as he said the words; but that might have been imaginary. 'And, Mr.
Charlson had been gone more than a quarter of an hour: could it be possible that he had left too soon, and that his attempts to restore her had operated so sluggishly as only now to have made themselves felt?
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