Americus times-recorder. [volume] (Americus, Ga.) 1891-current, 1919-09-24
JUDITH'S CAREER
BY FLORENCE sHEDD.

AS Bentley strolled through the
fragrant forest his eyes lost their
WEAKNESS and the tense lines of his
face relaxed For months he had been
hard at it, writing magazine articles,
with a steady purpose to obliterate
other grievouS thoughts. He allowed
himself no surcease, for this was the
only way.
The girl who had entered his life,
but to make of it a mockery, must be
forgotten if life was to be endured at
all. Repeatedly he had been warned
against her lure. Brothers and other
friends of the small Bohemia in which
Bentley recently moved had testified
to the girls unusual power of enchant-
ment and lack of heart. He had been
curious.
Why was it that eager and worthy
suitors were left always the losers,
while the girl herself continued heart
whole upon her chosen way2 Bentley
doubted the invincble charm of which
they spoke. In his own strong conf
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talked-of girl-and he did.
He was disappointed just at first.
She was not the "raving beauty" he
had naturally expected. Rather a
quiet little person, instead, with child
ishly appealing eyes and sort of diff
fldence in her manner which made one
smile mentally at her reputation for
conquest.
She was learning to draw at the art
school when Bentley met her, and she
told him, with a shy, fleeting glance,
that her name was Judith earn, The
quaintness of the name seemed some
way to suit her personality. Bentley
found it necessary to draw her out
concerning her work; she was ex-
tremely modest about her undoubted
skill He marveled, in his own expert
ence, at her clever use of color; and
Judith cast on him a smile of graft
tude.
After that, unaccountably to him
SELF he was often at her side, resent
ing openly any other mainly presence
which might forestall him there. He
was quite sure of the girls favoritism !;
had he ever been known to fail where
his fancy would conquer? The blow,
therefore, was as bitter and unexpect-
ed, when it came as it had been to his
fellows.
Bentley, successful writer and man
of the world, had asked the little Illus
traitor to marry him, and had been
! quietly, and with no given reason, re
fused. Injured pride forbade him t.
urge the question, even while his hean
yearned desperately. So Bentley
packed up and went off to the forest.
| His last article, a most interesting
treatise on birds, finished and COM
| plete, awaited but the photographs,
! which were to accompany it. The diff
| ficulty he would encounter procuring
these life photographs added promised
zest to his trip.
But the great green silence seemed
| now everywhere eloquent Of the girls
magnetic presence: Never had she
SeeLu6U 50 near VI uSdk W ulIu DSAOi d
And 1t was here that he had hoped to
find forgetfulness
Disconsolately he placed his camera
and waited. The strange, mournful
murmur Of the timld bird which he
sought would, he knew, inform him of
It's nearness. And at last, with his eyes
| closed in sad retrospection, Bentley
| heard that soft call. In moment he
was on his feet, stealthily following
where the murmuring note led.
At a break between the trees he
paused breathlessly. A girl stood be-
fore him there-the girl! She looked
like a nymph of the woods, in her
brown cotton dress, with the sun CLINT
ing down upon her bronzed hair; her
red lips were parted in smile, differ
ent some way from other smiles that
she had given him, and the laughter
CLINT of her eyes changed to sweet
seriousness.
HJudith 2" no whisnerpd