You can be one of the Happy Family.

We'd like to have you." There was something queer in Luck's voice when he murmured a reply.

There was something in his face which no one but the Kid had ever seen.

The Kid's arm crept around Luck's neck, and tightened there and stayed.
Luck's hand went up to the curls and hovered there caressingly.

And they talked, in tones lowered to the cadence of deep-hidden hopes and longings revealed in sacred confidence.
The Little Doctor, shamelessly eavesdropping because she was a mother fighting for her fledgling, tiptoed away from the corner of the stack, and went back to the house, wiping her eyes frequently with the corner of her handkerchief that was not embroidered.