"You mustn't be too hard on Debby, Barbara, because she told what she had promised not to tell. What else could she do? You know well enough she couldn't stop you herself, you headstrong baggage. I won't have you unfair to Debby. She loves you, and nearly killed herself to save you!"
Barbara's look of anger changed to a sort of obstinate sullenness for an instant. Then with an effort she forced herself to smile, while tears sprang into her eyes.
"Of course, Debby was right," she acknowledged. "But I wish she'd done it some other way. She shouldn't have let me trust her. She fooled me when I trusted her. Oh, I'll forgive her, of course," she continued, bitterly, "but never, never, will I trust her again!" Then she sprang up impetuously, and ran and flung both arms around Mistress Mehitable. "Of course I'd forgive her, anyway, because if she hadn't fooled me I might have never found out how lovely you were,—honey!"
Both Doctor John and Doctor Jim were breathless with amazement for a moment. What was this miracle? Whence came this understanding and this sympathy, all in a night? They saw a new glad warmth in Mistress Mehitable's eyes. They exchanged significant glances.
"All I can say, Barbara," growled Doctor Jim, at length, "is that you've been a long while finding out what ought to have been as plain as the nose on your face,—eh, what?"
"For a young lady who was able to discern at first glance the fascinations of Jim Pigeon," chimed in Doctor John, "I think you have been rather undiscriminating, Barbara!"
"She could see two battered old tallow dips, when she couldn't see the moon!" added Doctor Jim, solemnly.
There was always a relish of peril in rallying Barbara, whose audacity in retort was one of the scandals of Second Westings. She flashed her white teeth upon them in a naughty smile, and her eyes danced as she kissed Mistress Mehitable on both cheeks.
"Of course," she cried. "Nobody knows better than you two great big dears what a perfect little fool I've been, not to be in love with Aunt Hitty all this time."
"Barbara!" protested Mistress Mehitable, in a tone of rebuke,—and then again, bethinking herself, "Barbara, child!" in a tone of appeal.