‘Now say goodbye, Margaret,’ Miss Blake instructed sharply.

‘Goodbye,’ Maggie said woodenly to no one in particular and then the woman took her hand and they strode away without a backward glance.

‘I didn’t like that lady. She’s mean!’ Kitty declared, jamming her thumb into her mouth, and although they couldn’t say it, both Tom and Sunday were inclined to agree with her. It had taken all Sunday’s willpower not to snatch the little girl up into her arms and run for home with her, but of course, common sense had prevailed. She had entrusted Maggie to the Daweses’ care and now she had to stand by her decision, although she still missed the little girl dreadfully and fretted about her every single day.

With a heavy sigh, Sunday herded the children together and they set off for home themselves then in a much more subdued mood than the one in which they had started out.

Chapter Eight

December 1908

‘I can’t understand it,’ Sunday confided to Cissie as they sat together in the kitchen enjoying a mid-afternoon cup of tea. ‘This is the first year that we’ve received no money for Kitty’s care and she was twelve almost a week ago now. What do you think it might mean? Don’t misunderstand me, Tom and I don’t want the money for ourselves. In fact, we’ve been saving it for her for a number of years now, and she has quite a little nest egg stashed away as it happens.’

Cissie shrugged. She too thought it was strange. The money had usually been left as regular as clockwork. ‘Perhaps they’re just late paying it?’ she suggested as she took a gulp of her tea and wiggled her swollen feet out of her shoes. She had been on her feet since early that morning and was glad of a breather.

‘That’s what Tom said, but I have a feeling there’s more to it than that.’

‘Oh, here we go,’ Cissie teased her. ‘Lookin’ for problems where there are none again.’

‘I am not,’ Sunday said defensively. ‘I just can’t help thinking it’s a sign of something, that’s all.’

Beyond the kitchen door they could hear the sounds of the piano in the day room. A music teacher came in twice a week now to teach those who were interested in learning to play. In the drawing room, Kitty was having her singing lesson from Miss Lark, an aptly named private tutor, and the sound of her sweet voice echoed down the hallway.

There had been many changes in Treetops Manor during the last eight years. Mrs Tabitha Rose, their beloved cook, had retired some time ago to go and live with her daughter in Manchester. Mrs Cotton, a widow from the town, a round merry soul who Tom often teased and who could make a complete meal out of next to nothing, had taken her place. Shy young Em’ly had also left, to be married, and now Ethel, another young lass from the parish of Coton, who had come highly recommended by Mrs Lockett, had taken on her role. She was a plain, dumpy girl, but what she lacked in looks she more than made up for in personality and she was already a great favourite with the children. Edwina and Marianne, two of the first foundlings that Sunday and Tom had ever cared for, had also left, Marianne to be a governess to a solicitor’s children in Kenilworth and Edwina to an apprenticeship with a seamstress in the town. Ben, however, had remained and was now a fine strapping lad of nineteen who had proved himself to be invaluable to Tom and George. He would tackle any job big or small that needed doing and so more than earned the wage he was now paid each month.