“Why—­I don’t quite understand,” said Caroline Darrah as she leaned forward with puzzled eyes.

“Neither do any of the rest of us,” answered David gleefully.  “We didn’t understand how Billy Bob managed to pluck Mildred from the golden-dollar Shelby stem in the first place, at a salary of one twenty-five a month out at Hob’s mills.  But Billy Bob is the brave boy and he marched right up and told the old lady about the first kid as soon as he came.  Then she glared at him and said in an awful tone, ‘Mistake.’  Billy Bob just oozed out of that door and Mistake the youngster has been ever since.  I named the next Crimie before she got to it.  But watch her rage, poor old dame!  It’s up to somebody to remonstrate with Milly about this unbecoming conduct it seems to me,” and David glanced around the little circle for his laugh which he promptly received.

Only Phoebe sat with her head turned from him and Caroline Darrah exclaimed in distress: 

“How could her mother not care for them?”

“Tempie,” said Mrs. Buchanan, “pack up a basket of every kind of jelly.  Get that little box I fixed day before yesterday; you know it; wasn’t it fortunate that I embroidered two?  And tell Jeff I want the carriage at six.”

“And, Tempie, tell Jeff to get you two bottles of that seventy-two brandy; no, maybe the sixty-eight will be better; it’s apple, and apples and colic bear a synthetic relation which in this case may be reversed.  Those children must be started off in life properly.”  And the major’s eyes shone with the most amused interest.

“What’s that?” asked David in the general excitement that had arisen at a farther realization of his news.  “Don’t you want them to join the ’state wide’ band, Major?  Aren’t you going to give them a chance to fly a white ribbon?”

“Well, I don’t know,” answered the major with a judicial eye, “temperance is a quality of mind and not solely of throat.  Let’s depend somewhat on eradication by future education and not give the colic a start.”

“Don’t you think it would be nice for you girls to drive down with me and take the babies some congratulations and flowers, Phoebe?” asked Mrs. Buchanan an hour later as they all lingered over the empty cups.  “Will you come too, David?”

“Yes,” answered Phoebe, “I think it would be lovely, but you and Caroline drive down and I will walk in with David, I think.  Ready, David?” And Phoebe gathered up her muff and gloves and gave her hand to the major.

“David,” she said after they had reached the street and were swinging along in the early twilight; and as she spoke she looked him full in the face with her gray level glance that counted whenever she chose to use it, “is it your idea—­do you think it fair to ridicule Mildred about—­the babies?”

“Why,” answered the completely floored Kildare, “I just haven’t any idea on the subject.  Everybody was laughing about it—­and isn’t it—­er—­a little funny?”