The grace and beauty of the Episcopal form of worship appealed to Nan. The rhythmic lines of the confessional, "We have erred and strayed from Thy ways like lost sheep," etc., moved her to a heartfelt penitence for her shortcomings, and inspired her with an earnest desire to live more nobly and unselfishly. One by one her petty trials took their flight, and only a sense of great peace remained. When the benediction had been pronounced and the girls had left the church, they were both somewhat subdued and silent. The slanting rays of the sun fell softly athwart the quaint old churchyard, and on the faintly stirring breeze was borne the sweet perfume of roses and honeysuckle which grew in such profusion against the low stone wall. Passing through the gateway they strolled side by side along the road. "I wish I could always attend St. Andrew's," mused Nan, slipping her hand within Helen's arm. "I really believe I would be a better girl. The ritual impresses me so deeply, and seems to bring religion home to me in such a convincing sort of way." "I don't think that is at all unnatural; but as time goes on, Nan, I believe you will find that your love for outside things will diminish, in proportion as your dependence upon what is deep and vital grows." "I would not fret about it in the least if it were not for my dear father," and Nan's face grew tender as she spoke, "but I know that this disposition of mine toward forms and symbols is a source of sorrow to him. He would have me a strong adherent to the old school of Presbyterianism, and he feels that my tendencies are leading me rapidly along the highway to Rome," and Nan's puzzled eyes met Helen's with a frank appeal for advice. Helen was silent for a moment, and then spoke slowly and meditatively. "Of course, Nan, each person has to decide such a question for himself, but it seems to me that when two people love each other dearly yet differ in their views, each should be willing to make some concessions and thus grow more generous and lenient with each other--Love is such a great power." "Indeed it is," cried big-hearted Nan, "and I know that the larger share of yielding should be mine, for dear father has grown old in his opinions, and it must be very hard for him to have me branch out for myself." They had reached a turn in the road where their paths diverged, and Nan asked: "You will come over and sing hymns this evening, won't you, Helen?" "Certainly. Are they coming over from the inn?" "I suppose so," and then with a friendly nod each went on her way.