wretched scorching city streets, it leads that one to the lonely countryside where girls starved for life are waiting.  And, oh, so often it leads one to the door of her own church, to her own street, to her own class-room, to the girl beside her in the office.  Sometimes it leads to one’s own kitchen, or it stops beside the chair where one’s own mother sits.  One can never tell where the road of the religion of love may lead, but one cannot fail to see that those who follow it have shining faces and they love to live.

One day at sunset I waited at the little wharf to walk through the pines with Elizabeth.  She was paddling in her canoe over the lake that had turned to crimson and gold, from the fresh air camp on the other side to which she went every afternoon in summer to play games and tell stories.  “I had a great day,” she called in her clear, cheering voice as she neared the wharf, and added as she stepped from the boat, “Little Billy loves me and Katie Kane whispered softly and blushed when she said it, that she told me a lie yesterday and was never going to tell a lie no more as long as she lived!  Poor Katie,” she laughed.

When we reached the knoll where the three pines were we stopped and looked back.  Words could never describe what we saw.  Elizabeth stood silently watching it, her sweet face, her dark hair and her middy blouse tinged with the glow of it.  As the sun slowly slipped into the lake she waved her hand playfully at it.  “Good night, old man,” she said.  “Give us a cooler day tomorrow.  Fifty new children come to camp.”  After a moment while we waited for darkness to come stealing over the lake, forgetful of me, she said with her whole soul in her voice, “Oh, I love it, I love it all—­the world, and those poor blessed children,” then very softly “and God.”

She had found the girls’ religion, the religion Jesus Christ said, when they asked Him, meant two things—­“Thou shalt love the Lord Thy God—­and Thy Neighbor.”

This is the girl’s religion, for in loving she shall find Love—­the glory of the climax.

THE END