Doctor Jim laughed, tenderly derisive.
"No, but you're sending, and equipping, and supporting two able-bodied substitutes, aren't you? But another point is, my Barbara,—by staying I should bring disaster on you all. The good folk of Second Westings—and they are good folk, though rebels, alas!—will never stand by and see the Ladds and Pigeons, whatever their views, molested by an outside world. When your fiery patriots from up the river come to ride me on a rail, Second Westings will stand in the way and get its honest head broken. You wouldn't do it, John Pigeon! You'd cut off your head, before you'd let the poor souls get their heads broken for you in a cause that they believe all wrong. I'd be a coward to let them, John. Would you ask me to be a coward?"
"Wouldn't be much use asking," growled Doctor John. "But you're all wrong, as usual, Jim!" Then he turned suddenly to Mistress Mehitable, with a meaning look.
"You speak, Mehitable! You make him stay. Demand it of him—as your right! Keep him!"
Doctor Jim searched his brother's face, first with terrible question, then with the growing light of a great joy. Barbara watched breathless, forgetful of the fate of dynasties. Here, she felt, were problems that had held long lives in doubt, now working to instant solution. Mistress Mehitable turned scarlet, and she, too, questioned the sombre, tender eyes of Doctor John. But she said, quite simply:
"I'm afraid, John, if he thinks he ought to go he'll go. But I do ask you to stay, Jim."
"Don't, Mehitable!" groaned Doctor Jim.
"There, what did I tell you, John?" she said.
But now certain things, uncertain all his life till now, were quite clear to Doctor John. Slowly, as if it hurt him, he got up. He went over to where Mehitable was sitting, quite close to Doctor Jim. He laid a hand on each, caressingly,—and to Mehitable that touch, suddenly grown bold and firm, was a renunciation. He had never touched her that way before.
"It is all right, Jim! It is all right, Mehitable!" said he, in a very low but quite steady voice. "I never was sure till now,—but I ought to have understood,—for I see now it was always yours, Jim. Forgive me, brother. I ought not to have stood in the way."