Ben knew that Maggie could be a right little madam when she wanted to be, but he still had a soft spot for her and would miss her when she went.

‘So when will you be leaving us then?’ he asked, and eyes still firmly fixed on Kitty, Maggie shrugged.

‘Don’t know yet. Sunday and Tom are taking me for a visit to my new home first, then I s’ppose I’ll go.’

He bent to give her a little squeeze. ‘That’s grand then … but we’ll miss you.’

This from her idol brought tears springing to Maggie’s eyes. It was just beginning to sink in now, that she really was going to live in a new house – and suddenly she felt a little apprehensive. What if she didn’t like living with her new family? Would Sunday and Tom let her come home? And Treetops was the only home she’d ever known up to now. She would even miss Kitty, although she wouldn’t tell her that. Feeling suddenly deflated, the little girl turned about and went to cadge another biscuit off Cook.

Two days later, Maggie set off with Sunday and Tom in the big motor car. The rest of the children and the staff had been informed that she might be leaving them, and some of them stood on the steps to wave them off, making Maggie feel very important. She nestled down onto the back seat of the Daimler with a warm rug tucked firmly about her legs and sat back to enjoy the ride.

Her first sight of the Daweses’ home impressed her and she wished that Kitty were there to see it. In fact, she found herself almost wishing that Kitty could come with her. It certainly looked very grand and there seemed to be a whole army of gardeners working in the grounds.

The door was opened by a straight-faced woman with a hooked nose who wore a chatelaine about her waist containing a number of keys that jingled musically when she moved. She reminded Maggie of a scary witch.

‘Come in,’ she said in a clipped voice with no word of welcome. ‘Mr and Mrs Dawes are expecting you.’ She looked down on Maggie then, and the child shrank into Sunday’s side.

‘She must be the housekeeper,’ Sunday whispered to Maggie as they followed her across the hallway. Maggie’s eyes were like saucers as she gazed around at the spotlessly clean and tidy house. It was a far cry from Treetops, with its homely atmosphere, and it was very grand.

‘Ah, Margaret, here you are,’ Mrs Dawes said with a smile when the housekeeper had shown them into the drawing room. ‘Hello, Mr and Mrs Branning. Do sit down, I’ve ordered coffee for us all. Do you like coffee, Margaret? Or perhaps you would prefer some milk?’

‘I like coffee,’ Maggie answered, her voice little more than a squeak. Then as the grown-ups began to chat she surveyed the room, thinking again how tidy it was and how quiet. It was never quiet at Treetops – and again, little doubts began to creep in. Who would she have to play with here? She suddenly became aware of Mr Dawes watching her, and when she had caught his eye he winked at her.