‘How about you, me and Tom go out to the stables to see the horses while the ladies have a chat?’ he asked kindly.

Maggie willingly took the hand he offered.

‘Now don’t go letting her get into a state,’ his wife warned when they had all reached the door. ‘I know what you’re like when you get around those horses of yours.’

‘I wouldn’t dream of it, dear.’ There was a twinkle in his eye when he winked at Maggie again and, heartened, she gladly escaped with him.

After an enthralling half-hour spent giving sugar lumps to the horses and being nuzzled by their velvety noses, which made her giggle, Maggie was given a tour of the house by Stella and shown the bedroom that was to be hers. Her eyes instantly lit on the doll’s house and crossing to it she began to finger the tiny dolls and the perfectly carved miniature furniture inside it.

‘Oh, do be careful with that, dear,’ Stella Dawes said worriedly. ‘That has been in my family for some time and I’d hate it to be damaged.’

What was the point of putting such a lovely thing in a small child’s room and expecting her not to touch it? Sunday thought crossly. It was like putting a dish of strawberries down in front of a donkey and telling him not to eat them, but she held her tongue. She had wrestled with herself over the last few days but had finally decided that apart from the little niggles of doubt she had had about Mr and Mrs Dawes – probably quite unfounded – there was nothing to suggest that Maggie wouldn’t be perfectly happy here. Little Arthur, whom she had placed with a new family, was thriving happily, so she must give Maggie the same chance.

Maggie meanwhile moved away from the doll’s house and began to examine the rest of the room. She lifted some of the books from the shelves to inspect them before going to have a bounce on the beautiful four-poster bed and Sunday stifled a grin as she noticed Mrs Dawes following her about, putting everything back as it had been. Maggie would certainly be getting a few lessons in tidiness by the look of it, but this was no bad thing. She and the other adults tended to let the children get away with murder, back at Treetops.

Eventually they all made their way back downstairs and while Mr Dawes and Tom kept Maggie entertained with one of the books they had brought down with them, Sunday and Mrs Dawes had a discussion and it was decided that Maggie could move in with them the following weekend. After more coffee and biscuits, Tom, Sunday and Maggie departed.

‘My bedroom is gigantic!’ Maggie boasted to the other children when they arrived back at the Home. ‘An’ it’s got so many toys in there. Dolls, books, games an’ a great big doll’s house with little people inside. I’m to have me own nanny too,’ she went on importantly. ‘That’s someone who is there to take care o’ me – just me!’