It was long past the children’s bedtime, as Grandma had several times reminded them, but somehow nobody had seemed to hear, and at last Grandma had gone indoors, in disgust, leaving the rest of the Winslow family on the piazza. They were a very happy party. Dulcie and Daisy each occupied an arm of their father’s chair, Molly sat on his knee, and Maud was comfortably ensconced in the lap of the “stepmother”! “It’s been the most wonderful day we ever had in our lives,” said Daisy, with a little sigh of utter content. “It began pretty badly, but the end was beautiful.” “I shall never, never again try to imitate book people,” declared Dulcie. “Things never happen the way you expect them to. I ought to have found it out the day we tried to find ‘the stolen child,’ but I went right on, and did another silly thing, that was a great deal worse. Oh, Papa dear, are you quite sure you don’t think I ought to be punished? It really was all my fault, you know.” Mr. Winslow smiled and patted her cheek. “I think we will let the punishment go this once,” he said, glancing at his wife. “Don’t you agree with me, Florence?” “I certainly do,” the stepmother answered, heartily. “All is well that ends well, you know, and I don’t believe they will try looking for situations again.” “No, indeed, we won’t,” promised Dulcie. “Oh, Mamma, if we had only known it was going to be you, we should have been so happy!” “You don’t think I am going to be a cruel stepmother, then?” Mrs. Winslow said, smiling. “I don’t believe you could be cruel, even if you tried,” Dulcie declared, and Daisy added, softly: “We loved you the first time we saw you, and we’ve been loving you ever since. We were so glad when we thought you were going to marry Uncle Stephen, but to have you for our own mamma is the most beautiful thing that could possibly happen.” There were tears in Mrs. Winslow’s eyes, and she drew Daisy to her side and kissed her. “You haven’t loved me one bit more than I have loved you,” she said, a little unsteadily. “I have been longing for you all ever since that afternoon last January, and, oh, I do hope God will help me to be a real mother to you.” They were all silent for a moment after that. It was very beautiful out there in the moonlight, and nobody felt like speaking. At last Molly broke the silence. “Do you really mean it?” she questioned, anxiously. “You’re not just saying it to be polite, are you?” “Mean what, dear?” Mrs. Winslow asked. “That about wanting us ever since last winter?” “Indeed I do mean it,” her stepmother answered, and there was a ring of sincerity in her voice that banished the children’s last lingering doubt. “I have never wanted anything quite so much in my life. Why, Molly darling, I wanted you even before I ever saw you.”