That is true; I know it, and every woman knows it--women are disloyal to other women whenever it becomes a question of men. They might agree on a W.S.S.U. program, but they would never stick to it, poor things, because every blessed one of them who was at all good looking would be ready to go over to the opposition at the first favorable opportunity. Only the homely women would be loyal! ARE WOMEN GREATER HYPOCRITES THAN MEN? In all my troubles I kept at least to the form of religious belief, although I missed the substance, namely, that any life can be made happy, even glorious, if it is founded on purity of soul and unselfish love and service. I was selfish--even in my love; therefore I brought upon myself the fruits of selfishness which are ill health, inefficiency and unhappiness. _The beauty of a selfish woman fades quickly._ Once I wrote this in my diary: "Alas, how soon love passes! Ten or fifteen years and the best of it is gone. After that the dregs! A woman of thirty! Ugh! I shall be thirty next year. A woman of forty! No wrinkles at forty, says the beauty advertisement, but that is a lie. A woman of forty is a pitiful, tragic figure, especially if she is a little beautiful. No man wants her any more." I was mistaken. The beauty of unselfish love never passes. There are sisters of charity whose faces are exquisitely beautiful at fifty. Seraphine is forty-five and her face shines with heavenly radiance. Her skin is as smooth as a girl's and free from lines because she thinks good thoughts and does kind acts. The greatest beauty tonic in the world is the habit of kindness. In one place I find this: "Women are naturally religious, especially women with a strong sex nature; they believe in God, in spiritual mysteries; they are deeply stirred by religious music and by the ritual of worship; they love the architectural impressiveness of a church, the stained glass windows far up among majestic arches, the candles, the incense, the far-away chanting. "I was brought up an Episcopalian, but when I am tired or discouraged I often go into St. Patrick's Cathedral--it is so beautiful--and say my prayers there. At any hour I find others praying, men and women--they come in off Fifth Avenue quite naturally and cross themselves and bow to the Altar and kneel straight up--they don't just lean forward the way we do. I love to imitate them--cross myself and go down on one knee and dip my fingers in the font of Holy Water as I come away. _Sometimes I wish I was a Catholic and could confess my sins. It might help me._