human mind's
interpretation of the creation--an interpretation made according to
the way the human mind thinks the creating _ought_ to have been in
matter? You told me this yourself. And the second chapter shows how
far the human mind can go--it shows how limited it is. The human mind
couldn't get any farther than that--couldn't make a man out of
anything but dirt. It couldn't understand the spiritual creation. And
so it made a creation of its own. It couldn't understand God; and so
it made a Lord God, just like itself. Can't you see? Padre dear, can't
you? And if you see, can't you _stick_ to it and _live_ it, until all
the unreal passes away?"

Jose smiled into her earnest little face. "I will never cease to try,
_chiquita_," he said. "But we were talking about loving Diego, weren't
we? Yes, you are right, we must try to love him, for the good Jesus
said we must love our enemies."

"But, if we love everybody, then we haven't any enemies. You can't
love a real enemy--and so there aren't any real ones. We see in other
people only what is in our own thought. If we see evil as real, why,
then we will see bad men and women all around us, for we only look at
our thoughts. But, if we look only at God's thoughts--Padre dear, I
didn't see anything but God's thought when Padre Diego had me in his
arms. I knew it wasn't real, but was just the human way of looking at
things. And I knew that love was the great principle of everything,
and that it just couldn't fail, any more than the principle of algebra
could fail to solve my problems. Well," she concluded with a little
sigh, "it didn't."

"Dear little girl, you must be patient, very patient, with your
blundering old Padre Jose. He is groping for the light--"

In an instant, throwing the canoe into imminent danger of upsetting,
the impulsive girl had hurled herself into his lap and clasped her
arms about his neck. Juan and Lazaro by a quick and skillful effort
kept the craft upright.

"Oh, Padre dear!" she cried, "I didn't mean to say a word that would
make you unhappy--Padre dear, I love you so! Padre, look at your
little girl, and tell her that you love her!"

He clasped her fiercely. "No--no!" he murmured, "I--I must
not--and--yet--_chiquita_--I adore you!" He buried his face in her
shoulder.

Juan made a wry mouth as he looked at the girl in the priest's arms.
Then he suggested that a separation would more evenly balance the
boat. Carmen laughed up at him, but slip