‘Sorry, I was just thinking of the newest addition,’ she said.

‘I’m sure you were, dear, but Cissie is more than capable.’

Knowing that she was right, Sunday forced herself to eat some of the food on her plate but her eyes kept straying to the ceiling.

‘Judging by the quality of the blanket the baby was wrapped in and the amount of money that was left to pay for her keep, I wouldn’t mind betting she’s of good stock,’ Tom commented as he lifted a forkful of tender roast beef to his mouth. Nothing ever seemed to put Tom off his food. ‘I wouldn’t mind betting that wad amounts to more than we get from our sponsors for a whole year.’

‘You may well be right,’ Sunday said, ‘although I haven’t counted it yet.’

The second dessert was cleared away and she shot upstairs to the nursery quarters without even waiting for coffee to be served.

The whole of the second storey had been given over to the eight foundlings they cared for – nine now, including baby Kitty. The first three babies had come at intervals during the year the home had opened, and were now cheerful, robust children. First had come Benjamin, a happy-go-lucky little lad with a mind of his own who had stolen Sunday’s heart the second she set eyes on him. Two months later he had been joined by Edwina, and a month after that, Marianne, affectionately known as Annie. Over the next six years, five other babies had found a home at Treetops and each of them was loved – but somehow, as Sunday pounded up the grand staircase, lifting her skirts in a most unladylike manner, she had a feeling that little Kitty was going to be very important to her.

She found Zillah, her mother’s devoted maid, and Cissie, her own dear friend, just tucking the babies into their cots and settling them for the night.

‘How is she?’ she asked immediately and Zillah grinned as she pointed towards the furthest cot. She had no need to ask which baby Sunday was enquiring after.

‘She’s had a bath, not that she needed one as she was clean as a whistle. And she took a bottle lovely – every last drop, in fact. She looks to be a healthy little mite to me. She’s fast asleep already, top to toe with yon Maggie now.’ Margaret was now six months old and had been the youngest of the foundlings until Kitty had arrived so unexpectedly.

As Sunday leaned over the cot she itched to lift the new arrival and give her a cuddle, but she knew that Zillah and Cissie would not appreciate it if she were to wake her. Between them, the two women had the nursery running like clockwork and Sunday didn’t know how she would manage without them.

Further along the second-floor landing were three more rooms, a bedroom for the slightly older boys and another for the girls. The children ranged in age from two to seven and were always into some sort of mischief. The final room had been transformed into a schoolroom where Mrs Verity Lockett, a very close friend of the family, as well as the local vicar’s wife, came to teach the younger ones their lessons each weekday for three hours in the afternoon. The older children attended the local board school, and always went to Sunday School. Sunday was very protective of all her charges and would have loved to keep them at Treetops, where she knew they were safe, for ever.