"Really, dear," said she, "they have not given me any very bad impressions of Robert. I think both Doctor John and Doctor Jim knew where to put the blame. And I know, too!"
Barbara looked at her doubtfully. Such complete acceptance of her position almost seemed unkind and critical. But her aunt's smile reassured her. This was not criticism, but something as near raillery as Mistress Mehitable would permit herself.
"I believe they have been abusing me behind my back,—and they pretending to love me!" cried Barbara, tossing her head in saucy challenge.
"Never, child; we hug our delusions, Jim Pigeon and I," said Doctor John.
"No, hug me," laughed Barbara, darting around the tea-table and seating herself on his lap.
"You are our worst delusion, baggage!" said Doctor Jim, shaking a large finger at her. "And now I see you're setting out to delude your poor aunt, after making life a burden to her for two years. And poor Bobby Gault,—he'll find you a delusion and a snare!"
"I think you are unkind, even if you are just in fun," protested Barbara, half offended, half amused. But at this moment both men rose to go. Doctor John, as he raised his towering bulk from the chair, lifted Barbara with him as if she had been a baby, held her in his arms for a moment while he peered lovingly and quizzically into her swiftly clearing face, gave her a resounding kiss, and set her on her feet.
"Bless the child!" said Doctor Jim, noticing now for the first time the change in appearance. "What's become of our little Barbara? How she's grown up over night!"
"And how her petticoats have grown down!" added Doctor John, backing off to survey her critically. "Tut, tut, the wanton hussy! How did she dare to kiss me! Goodness gracious! To think I had a young woman like that sitting on my lap!"
"You had better be careful what you say, Doctor John," retorted Barbara, firmly, "or I will be grown up, and never kiss you or let you hold me on your lap any more!"