It was not a triumphant David with his judiciary honors full upon him and gubernational, senatorial, ambassadorial and presidential astral shapes manifesting themselves in dim perspective; it was just old whimsical David, tender of smile and loving though bantering of eye, albeit a somewhat pale and exhausted edition.

“Phoebe,” he said with a low laugh, “nobody wants Dave—­for anything!”

And it was then that the fire that had been lighted in the heart of Phoebe in her night watch blazed up into her face as she held out her arms to him!  And in the twinkle of a fire-spark David found himself on his knees, with Phoebe, the low chintz-covered chair and the two kiddies clasped to his heart.

For a glorious moment he held them all close and his head rested on Phoebe’s shoulder just opposite that of Mistake, while Crimie squirmed between them.  Then he discovered that he was gazing under her chin into the wide-open, slightly resentful orbs of Big Brother, who eyed him a moment askance, then, feeling it time to assert himself, reached up and landed a plainly proprietary and challenging kiss against the corner of his lady’s mouth.

David laughed delightedly and embraced the trio with greater force as he said propitiatingly, “Good snugglings, isn’t it, old man?”

But at this exact moment Crimie took the situation into his own hands, slipped his cable, grabbed the book as he went and rolled over a couple of yards with a delighted giggle.  Billy Bob, seeing his treasure captured, instantly followed and there forthwith ensued a tussle that was the height of delight to the two good-natured youngsters.

And Phoebe’s arms closed around David more closely as she held him embraced against her shoulder, her soft cheek on his.

“Dave,” she whispered, “you know I really don’t care at all, don’t you?”

“What?” demanded David with alarm in his voice as he raised his head and looked at her in consternation.

“The election makes no—­”

“Oh, that—­I’d forgotten all about it!  Don’t scare me like that any more, peach-bud, please,” he besought and he took her chin in the hollow of his hand as she leant to him, her eyes looking into his, level and confident but glorious with bestowal.  For a long minute he gazed straight into their dawn-gray depths then he said gently, the caress suspended: 

“Woman, if you are ever going to take any of this back, do it now!”

“Never,” she answered and clasped her hands against his breast.

“It’s still the loafer out of a job—­just Dave-do-nothing,” he insisted, a new dignity in his voice that stirred her pride.

“Please!” she closed her eyes as she entreated.

“It’s for a long time—­always.”  His voice was heaven-sweet with its note of warning and he laid his other strong warm hand on her throat where a controlled sob made it pulse.

“I’m being very patient,” she whispered and her lips quivered with a smile as two tears jeweled her black lashes.