Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1898-01-12
THE BLIND BRIDE

luu DLlllU DnlDl.
Bentley Grange was pretty 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 struc-
ture OF warmly-tinted red brick. with
mullioned windows, yelyet-smooth sweeps
of lawn and box borders, which stood like
walls of solid emerald on each side of
the path, it had SAVIOR of the ANTIQUE
about It which one seldom sees in an
American house.
and down in the mellow sunshine be-
tween the walls of the black-green box.
with his eyes bent on the ground and
his hands clasped behind his back, cor
responded we'll with the grange
Suddenly cheerful footstep rang on
the stone terrace steps-the sound of a
clear fiute-like whistle rose above the
click OF the distant moving machine. and
Harry Wade, the old mans nephew.
STOOD ike an incarnation of youth and
sunshine before him.
Uncle, he cried merrily, you've got
the pret1est place in the world here
Toned silver watch.
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 hoursr'
:, Lake a limpet, uncle" said Harry,
and and Just for today. Will Caryl has
wanted TO see You, uncle"
"Humph.' again commented Mr.. Bent
ley :. 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"
Some scrape you've got into,'' said Mr..
Bentley
Want to borrow money, perhaps!'
Upon my word, nor
You've fallen in love with some girl,
them
You are right this time, uncle" said
Harry, laughing and cOloring; land of
course have come directly to you to
{ e you = OF I my good fortune. 1t is little
"A milIiner's apprentice.' snarled the
old bachelor
If she chooses to help her mother
along by trimming hats in her aunt's mil
IInery rooms, see nothing derogatory in
that" said Harry valiantIy.
"A mere child of 17.''
But [ don't want an old lady of 47!'
"Humph!' groUled Mr. Bentley,
What do either of you know of life?''
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 -
sardonlcally inquired Brande Bentley.
Il have my salary, Uncle Brande,' said
Harry, 'and Bessie has been educated to
be very economical
III have nothing to say to such non
sense" said Mr.. Bentley
But, Uncle Brande, all we want is
Nothing, L say absolutely nothiEgw
Numbered the old man. Its folly-trash
sentimental tomfoolery! If you want
my opinion, there it is! Time enough fer
you to think of matrimony when You are
30. There ought to be a law to prevent
young people making fools of them
selves!''
And Brande Bentley turned on his heel
and strobe back into the house.
SO that Harry had no very inspiriting
news for Bessie Bird when he met her, Is
usual, on the corner of Broadway, to
walk home with her through the pleasa 1t
autumn twilight.
'Was he very cross?'' said Bessie, who
was a white-kitteny sort Of girl, with
fluffy yellow hair, dimples in her cheeks
and eyes the exact color of the FLOWING
blue china on our grandmothers' shelves.
''As savage as Bluebeard"
did he scold dreadfully?" asked Bes-
sic.
Told me | was a fOolr'
But if he won't CONSENT?
''Then we must manage to get along
without his consent said Harry. BE
cause you know, Bessie. l do love you
so very dearly, and you like me little,
don't you?"
But your mother has always counted
upon your being his heir" said Bessie.
''And to lose all that money, just
Just for love and you" archly inter
rupted Harry Darling, there is moth
ing in all the world half so sweet to me,
or that [ court half so ardently as my
little Bessie-so let there be no further
argument about it. These jolly old coves
salary $50 at Christmas, and so if you
can get your frock made We'll be married
then And set Uncle Brande and the
world at defiance, eh?"
The first November snowstorm was
drifting its white flashes through the air,
when a visitor was shown into Brande
Bentley's snug parlor.
Eth" said he, ga stranger, Jones? [
never see strangers"
but you will see me!' said soft voice
and a slender, golden-haired girl stood
before him, ne -tly yet plainly dressed,
her black coat powdered over with snow,
and a specialized old lady by her side.
81 am Bessie Bird, and this is my aunt,
Miss Bolton, the milliner.''
Miss Bolton courtesied. Mr.. Bentley
stared.
I suppose you have come here to speak
to me about my nephew said he.
Yes, sir" said Bessie.
TT will be of no use," said he, CURLY.
E'My opinions on the subject of his mar
TIH0p remain UNCHANGED -
But mine do not said Bessie. ''Please
to hear me through, Mr.. Bentley. l have
written him a letter to give him up this
morning. And l came to tell of it now,
so that you will feel kindly toward him
once more / have told him we never
could be married"
you're a sensible girl said Mr.. Bent
ley. shifting his hand on the table.
And / have sent him back the little
garnet engagement ring that he gave me-
added Bessie. with sob in her throat
Better and betterv said Uncle Brande
exultantly
Not" bravely added Bessie, because