The little girl nodded meekly, not at all as the Maggie Sunday remembered would have done.

‘Yes, Nanny. This is Sunday, the lady I used to live with before I went to live with Mr and … Mother and Father.’

‘Ah, I see.’ Then addressing Sunday, the woman said, ‘You must be Mrs Branning?’

Sunday inclined her head, hardly able to take her eyes off Maggie. She looked so different. ‘Yes, yes, I am and it’s lovely to see Maggie again. We were rather hoping she might come and visit us all at Treetops.’

‘So I understand. But the master and mistress felt it best to give her time to settle in first,’ the nanny answered pompously.

‘And how is she settling in?’ Sunday asked, taking an instant dislike to the woman. She seemed so cold and impersonal.

‘Margaret, as we prefer her to be known, is doing very well – all things considered,’ the woman replied.

‘What things?’ Sunday asked boldly. The longer she spent in this woman’s company the less she liked her, and Maggie was so quiet, not at all her usual cheeky little self.

‘Well, the fact that she is a foundling and has only ever lived in a children’s home all her life. Of course, living within a civilised family will take some adjusting to.’

‘I can assure you we are very civilised at Treetops Manor,’ Sunday snorted, deeply offended, and the woman had the good grace to look slightly embarrassed.

‘No offence intended, I assure you, Mrs Branning. But now we really must be going. The mistress won’t like it if we are late back.’

Ignoring her, Sunday bent to Maggie’s level and gave her a reassuring smile. The child had picked up on the chilly atmosphere and looked worried.

‘So how are you, pet?’

After a quick glance at the nanny, Maggie answered politely, ‘I am very well, thank you.’

‘Good.’ But Sunday was far from pleased. Why wasn’t Maggie being her normal, natural outspoken self? The child seemed like a stranger.

‘I’m sorry, Mrs Branning, but we really must be going,’ the stern-faced woman repeated, and realising that she had no valid excuse to detain them, Sunday rose.

‘Of course. Good day. And, Maggie, do ask Mr and Mrs Dawes to bring you to visit us soon. We would all love to see you.’

The child nodded expressionlessly before being hauled away, and all Sunday could do was stare after her in bemusement.

Chapter Seven

Sunday arrived home to total chaos as usual. Verity Lockett was just leaving after teaching the children, and let loose from the schoolroom they were rampaging about. Their laughter was echoing down the hallway as they surged towards the door, keen to get out into the fresh air. Barney was barking wildly, adding to the mayhem. A huge golden labrador, he was a firm favourite with the children and was like Tom’s shadow. They had found him wandering about the grounds shortly after they got married and had taken him in, and ever since, everyone in the household had spoiled him shamelessly. The cats, who lived in the kitchen, had come there the same way and Sunday remembered laughing when Tom had once suggested they should put up a sign saying HOME FOR WAIFS AND STRAYS. ANY LEGGED VARIETY WELCOME.