is, a reaching forward to the perfecting of some fruit.  There was nothing to come, ever again, of all its greenness and beauty, and the greenness and beauty, which were only a form and a promise, ceased to be.  It was the way he took to show his disciples, in a manner they should never forget, the inexorable condition upon which all life is given, and that the barren life, so soon as its barrenness is absolutely hopeless, becomes a literal death.”

Leslie stood still, with her back to Miss Goldthwaite, and her face to the window.  Her perplexity was changed, but hardly cleared.  There were many things that crowded into her thoughts, and might have been spoken; but it was quite impossible for her to speak.  Impossible on this topic, and she certainly could not speak, at once, on any other.

Many seconds of silence counted themselves between the two.  Then Cousin Delight, feeling an intuition of much that held and hindered the young girl, spoke again.  “Does this make life seem hard?”

“Yes,” said Leslie then, with an effort that hoarsened her very voice, “frightful.”  And as she spoke, she turned again quickly, as if to be motionless longer were to invite more talk, and went over to the other window, where her bird-cage hung, and began to take down the glasses.

“Like all parables, it is manifold,” said Delight gently.  “There is a great hope in it, too.”

Leslie was at her basin, now, turning the water faucet, to rinse and refill the little drinking-vessel.  She handled the things quietly, but she made no pause.

“It shows that, while we see the leaf, we may have hope of the fruit, in ourselves or in others.”

She could not see Leslie’s face.  If she had, she would have perceived a quick lifting and lightening upon it; then a questioning that would not very long be repressed to silence.

The glasses were put in the cage again, and presently Leslie came back to a little low seat by Miss Goldthwaite’s side, which she had been occupying before all this talk began.  “Other people puzzle me as much as myself,” she said.  “I think the whole world is running to leaves, sometimes.”

“Some things flower almost invisibly, and hide away their fruit under thick foliage.  It is often only when the winds shake their leaves down, and strip the branches bare, that we find the best that has been growing.”

“They make a great fuss and flourish with the leaves, though, as long as they can.  And it’s who shall grow the broadest and tallest, and flaunt out, with the most of them.  After all, it’s natural; and they are beautiful in themselves.  And there’s a ‘time’ for leaves, too, before the figs.”

“Exactly.  We have a right to look for the leaves, and to be glad of them.  That is a part of the parable.”

“Cousin Delight!  Let’s talk of real things, and let the parable alone a minute.”

Leslie sprang impulsively to her bureau again, and flung forth the linen drawer.