You've got to come. I wouldn't dare face Phoebe without you. It's the
whole thing to her to have you there. It's been so long since you've
gladded with the crowd once and it's her birthday and--" David's voice
trailed off into a perfect wail.

"But what can we do?" faltered Milly, dissolved at the mention of the new
frock. "We certainly can't leave them and we can't take them and--"

"Glory, that's the idea, let's _take_ the whole bunch!" exclaimed David
with radiant countenance. "I ought to have invited them in the first
place. Come on and let's begin to bundle!" and he made a dive in the
direction of the door of the nursery.

"Oh, no, indeed we can't!" gasped Milly while Billy Bob stood stricken,
unable to utter a word.

"I'll show you whether we will or not," answered David. "Catch me losing
a chance like this to ring one on Phoebe for several reasons. Hurry up!"
and as he spoke he had lifted little Mistake from his cot and was
dextrously winding him in his blanket. The youngster opened his big dewy
eyes and chuckled at the sight of his side partner, David Kildare.

"That's all right, he's all for his Uncle Davie. Here, you take him Billy
Bob and I'll help Milly roll up the twins. She can bring down Crimie
while I bring them," and as he spoke he began a rapid swathing of the two
limp little bodies from the white crib.

"But, David," gasped Milly, "it is _impossible_! They are not
dressed--they will take cold--"