Sacramento daily record-union. [volume] (Sacramento [Calif.]) 1875-1891, 1882-08-19
GR0RGE CONSIDINE.

GhUhGE CUNSlDlNE.
"By the way, Jack, you have never told
me how it was that George Considine LEFT
the army. Hada't he disappointment, OIL
something OF that sort?"
We were sitting together, my brother
and /, In the old fashioned oak. paneled
coffee room Of the Hook and Ratchet, al
Remhurst, cur hunting quarters, in the
year Of grace, 10, enjoying the pleasant
warmth of genuine wood fire, and bot
tie of our landlords Avery good it was,
too after long, hard day with the West
Dartshire hounds.
"Ah. that is rather long story and q
sad one, answered Jack, gravely, refilling
my glass and his own, while l composed
myself to listen to the following narrative
He was a great chum of mine" began
Jack, when we were at Sandhurst TO-
gether. ] met him first at Raeford, that
summer you went abroad with my father.
He and /, poor Wentworth, and two or
three other lads were staying down in the
holidays. He frat met Mary Laborde there.
She, too, was staying at Raeford. Lady
Manchester was her aunt, or cousin, / for
get which, and Considine fell desperately
in love with her after boyish fashion; he
was about IA. l suppose, at that time.
After tEas visit l don't shink Consi-
dine saw much of his lady love until he
came of age. He asked me to the ball they
gave there, and had no eyes for any one but
Miss Laborde, 30 was not surprised when
he told me, month later, that they were
engaged. Beautiful? Alb, she was /; and
she made many an honest heart ache, too
Well, Considine and / went out to
India soon after, as you know. OF course
his people would not hear of his taking a
wife with him; in fact, believe they did
not altogether like the engagement. | lost
sight of him for two or three years he
was a shockingly bad correspondent, and
the only letter ever had from him, about
six months after our arrival out there, con-
tanned nothing IN the world but descrip-
tion of pony he and another fellow had
bought. and some rather strong language
relative to mosquitoes. l answered the
interesting dispatch, and then the CORE
spondenee dropped.
About tbres years after, you know, l
was ordered home invaded. and the first
person / met on the City of Edinburgh was
Considine, looking as if had parted with
him but the day before. He nursed me
during that voyage as you would have
done, Charlie, and when got little bet
ter, and condescended to take little in
terest In my fellow-creatures, he told me
how it was We CHANGED to meet again on
our homeward way.
He was still engaged, and had kept up
q regular correspondence with Miss Laborde
during those three years. Her last letter
had brought him news of her mother
death. So Pm going home to be married,
old fellow. She is left without penny in
the world, he said to me. How on earth
Mrs. Laborde contrived to live in the
style she did, goodness only knows. But
l have enough with Marston, and she
shall never know what poverty is in the
future, if can help it.
wedding, and his last words, as we parted
at Paddington- he was going straight
down to Raeford-were, I'll write and let
self In readiness to come down and do your
duty by me; you mustn't fail me, you
know ] answered him jokingly, and he
ran off to his train. went down to Pad.
dington next morning to meet servant
lad they were sending up to me from Aid
rum !; and standing on the platform watch
ing the Birmingham train draw up and
empty itself, caught sight of the back of
slight, familiar figure in gray suit, get
ting out Of smoking carriage, and l ran
up and laid my hand on Considine's shout.
der. Didn't expect to see you back so
soon, old fellow. Nothing wrong, l hope.
Where are you going?' To the devil,
think, he said, under his breath, and try
ing to shake my hand off. / just glanced
at him, and knew what was the matter.
He had his portmanteau in his hand, and
was striding Off toward the cab stand as he
spoke. followed him and put my hand
through hiS. ''Pon my word, Considine,
I'm awfally sorry. Come home with me,
will you? It will be better than going to
the club; my rooms are quiet No. he
answered savsgely, hanged if / do but
he jumped into cab, giving the fellow no
answer when he asked where to drive. So
| gave him my address, and Considins nut.
tered a Thanks, Kenyon as 1 sat down
beside him. He looked wretchedly ill and
exhausted, and suspecting that he had not
breaktasted, l made him have something
when we reached home. Afterward he
said he was going down to his place in
Msrston, if | would go with him they
could easily get couple of beds ready for
us, and he thought there was some shoot
ing.
had nothing particular to keep me in
town Just then. / saw that Considine
really desired my company, so consented
to go with him. His father had been dead
some eighteen months, and his mother was
abroad at some German baths for her
health the house of Marston was shut up
and left in the charge of the housekeeper
and couple of maid servants. We tele-
graphed, giving them about an hours no.
tice, and then collected our traps, and ran
down for the four express.
Marston Magma is a small out.of. the.
world village, hidden down among the
miry lanes and deep clayey hollows of
South Meadshire, and the Grange, Consi.
dimes place, is little more than shooting.
box-a quaint, many gabled, gray stone
house, standing on q little platform of green
turf, and surrounded on three sides bv a
belt OF Scotch frs, and wide moat. Set
in dark background of trees, the place
has damp and somewhat dreary look.
Passing through the line of white mist that
rose on either hand from the weedy. stag.
nant water that autumn evening, gave one
n curiously uncomfortable sensation. as of
stepping into some undiscovered region of
gloom.
:" At night, after we had dined together.