Freeland tribune. (Freeland, Pa.) 1888-1921, 1897-12-06
THE BLIND BRIDE. !
BY Amy Randolph.

ID ENTLEY GRANGE was a pretty
ID place at all times of the year, but
loveliest of all when the reapers were at
work in the harvest fields and the yellow
Light of the October sun turned the
woodland paths to enchanted aisles. A
long, low structure of warmly-tinted
red brick, with mulloned windows, vel
vet-smooth sweeps of lawn and box bor-
ders, which ood up like walls of solid
emerald on each side of the path, it had
a SAVIOR of the antique about it,
which one seldom sees in an American
house.
And old Brande Bentley, walking up
and down in the mellow sunshine, be-
tween the walls of black-green box, with
his eyes bent on the ground, and his
hands clasped behind his back, CORE
sponded we'll with the Grange.
Suddenly cheerful footstep rang on
the stone terrace steps-the sound of
clear, fute-Like whistle rose above the
click of the distant moving machine,
and Harry Wade, the old mans nephew,
stood like an incarnation of youth and
sunshine before him.
Uncle" he cried, merrily, you've got
the prettiest place in the world here"
Mr. Bentley took out his big, old-fash-
ioned silver watch.
1.-TWO O'clock" said he, "and the bank
don't close until four. Humph! 1t ap-
pears to me, young man, that you don't
stick very close to business hours!"
Like a limpet, uncle" said Harry,
land just for to-day. VIII Caryl has
come to act as substitute, for l really
wanted to see you, uncle"
"Humph!" again commented Mr.
Bentley. You're very fond of me-just
of late!"
I'm always fond of you, Uncle
Brande," said Harry, gravely, but I've
something to tell you"
Mr.. Bentley.
Nothing of the sort, sir!"
want to borrow money, perhaps!"
Upon my word, mol"
you've fallen in love with some girl,
then"
You are right this time, uncle" said
Harry, laughing and coloring; land, of
course, l have come directly to you to
tell you of my good fortune. 1t is little
Bessie Bird!"
"A milliner's apprentice!" snarled the
old bachelor
IF she chooses to help her mother
along by trimming hats in her aunt's
millinery rooms, l see nothing deroga-
tory in that" said Harry, valiantly.
"A mere child of III"
But l don't want an old lady of AL"
"Humph!" growled Mr.. Bentley.
What do either of you know Of lfe?"
Not much, to be sure, uncle, as yet"
admitted the young lover, "but we think
we can easily learn-together."
And where do you think the napkins
and tablecloths and bread and butter
and rent and water taxes are to come
from?" sardonically inquired Brande
Bentley"
II have my salary, Uncle Brande,"
said Harry, land Bessie has been edu-
Gated to be very economical"
"Ill have nothing to say to such nom
sense" said Mr.. Bentley.
But, Uncle Brande all we want is"
Nothing, l say-absolutely moth
folly-trash-senti timental tomfoolery!
If you want my opinion, there it is!
Time enough for you to think of mat
rimony when you are 80. There ought
to be a law to prevent young people
making fools ofthemselves."
And Brande Bentley turned on his
heel and strobe back into the house.
So that Harry had no very inspiritng
news for Bessie Bird when he met her,
as usual, on the corner of Broadway, to
walk home with her through the pleas
ant autumn twilight.
WAS he very CROSSE" said Bessie, who
was white-kitteny sort of girl, with
fluffy yellow hair, dimples in her cheeks,
and eyes the exact color of tire flowing
blue" china on our grandmothers'
shelves.
"As savage as Bluebeard!"
Did he scold dreadfully?" asked Bes-
sic.
'I'old me was fool"
But If he won't consent"
Then we must manage TO get along
without his consent" said Harry. BE
cause. you know, Bessie, do love you
so very dearly, and you like me a little,
don't you?"
But your mot her has always counted