That was a wonderful, never-to-be-forgotten afternoon. Long after their elders had ceased to think of it, the four little girls loved to recall its delights. The bright little opera, with its charming music, and amusing dialogue. The funny pirate chief, who frightened Maud at first, and then fascinated her for the rest of the afternoon. The pompous major-general, with his numerous family of daughters. And, last but not least, the gallant policemen, who were as much afraid of the pirate band as the pirates were afraid of them. It was all one continuous delight. But even better than the play was the pleasant companionship. Long before the afternoon was over, they had all come to the conclusion that, with the exception of Papa, and possibly the faithful Lizzie, Uncle Stephen and Miss Leslie were “the two nicest grown-ups” they had ever met. But everything, even “The Pirates of Penzance,” must come to an end at last, and all too soon the curtain had fallen on the last rollicking chorus, and they were making their way out through the crowd, into the dusk of the winter afternoon. “Wouldn’t it be lovely if nice things never came to an end?” remarked Dulcie, as they stood on the cold corner, while Uncle Stephen went in quest of a cab. Miss Leslie smiled. “There wouldn’t be any next time to look forward to, then,” she said. “But we don’t have any next times,” began Molly, and checked herself, warned by a reproving glance from Dulcie. Miss Leslie looked rather surprised, but before she could ask any questions, Uncle Stephen returned, and they were all packed into a cab, Mr. Maitland explaining that he and Miss Florence were in a hurry, and must get home as soon as possible. “It’s been the loveliest afternoon we ever had in our lives,” declared Daisy, as the cab drew up before their own door. “Oh, Uncle Stephen, won’t we see you again--have you really got to go back to California to-night?” “I am afraid so,” Uncle Stephen answered, with a kind glance at the row of sober little faces, “but perhaps I shall come back again before such a very long time.” “Don’t forget there’s always a next time to look forward to,” said Miss Leslie, with her bright smile. “We’ve all had a delightful afternoon to look back upon. I hope you won’t forget me.” “Indeed we won’t!” cried Dulcie and Daisy both together, and Molly added, plaintively: “Oh, have you got to go back to California, too?” “Yes, dear, Mother and I are leaving to-night, on the same train with Mr. Maitland. But I want you to remember me, for I have an idea that we shall meet again some day, and in the meantime I wonder if you would write to me occasionally. I love to get letters from little girls.” “We’d love to,” said Daisy, blushing with pleasure. “We none of us write very well except Dulcie, but if you wouldn’t mind a few mistakes in spelling----”