Steps rustled behind me, and as he joined me we walked on under the lime trees and I tried to talk of my garden, but he did not appear responsive; and finally, when I could walk no further, for I was wedged in the swing gate that opened on to the field he blocked the opening and said,
"I don't the least want to talk of the garden."
"Well, talk of this," I said, and gave him the chestnut twig I had broken off; "it is full of meaning."
"No. It is really full of life and hope. See its wonderful centre. There, I will open one to give you a parable from Nature. We need hope at this time of the year."
"I have been hoping so long," he would not be put off, "perhaps I am tired of mere hoping. I want to progress."
"There is one thing better than faith, you know." I suppose the wind was cold. I gave a little shiver and he placed his hand over mine.
Then I said, "I think faith ought to have its turn."
"Waiting, I should think," I answered slowly.
"Ah! I must teach you another parable, I see. When the seed is sown in the ground we have to wait for it to spring up; it has to grow, to grow underground quite a long while before it comes to the light. It is not good to uncover it before it naturally springs up."
"Can I be sure the seed is there?" he asked eagerly.
"Some seeds take longer than others too, don't they?" I answered evasively. "The annuals come up quite quickly, but perennials are much slower. I prefer perennials, don't you?"
"The winter is such a good time for waiting," I remarked cheerfully.
"If faith be added to hope is the next step sure?" he questioned.
"Don't you know we cannot hurry the seasons. It is no good. If you are in winter, in the faith time, why, be content."
"Yes, spring will come, I will wait," he said again, and I too knew that spring would come.
I loosened my hand gently and we walked back under the bared boughs of the lime trees, a tangle of grass, weeds and ferns, and a rustling of brown fallen leaves at our feet. A hush as of going to sleep was in the air, and a robin from a full throat seemed to assure us that each season in its turn is good, and that spring never quite leaves the earth.
Anemones, 10, 173, 235; --Japanese, 186, 195, 233
Antirrhinums, 54, 57, 101, 131, 132, 179, 181, 238