"Yes." Abruptly Maud pulled herself together. A sudden resolution had sprung up within her. She could not face another storm such as that through which she had just come. Above all she could not face the morrow and its possibilities in this house. She turned back into the room, and took half a sovereign from the table. "Martha," she said, "I have packed everything up, and I am going away. I want you, please, to call a cab now, at once, to take me away before my uncle comes downstairs. I will write him a note while you are gone. Please, please, Martha, be as quick as you can!"
The sympathy in Martha's eyes became a sort of tragic friendliness. "I knew as you wouldn't stay, ma'am," she said, "not after the way he hollered at you. I wouldn't myself in your place, ma'am; no, that I wouldn't. But you see, I've been with him so long. I don't mind his rough ways. I'll go at once, and thank you kindly, ma'am. It won't take me five minutes. But, mind you, I think he'll be sorry to lose you."
"I can't help that," Maud made answer. "It is quite impossible for me to stay. He will know why. But I will write him a note all the same."
And when Martha had gone, she sat down and scribbled two notes.
The first she addressed to her uncle:
"DEAR UNCLE EDWARD,
"I do not think you will be greatly surprised at my leaving you. After what has passed, I could not stay. I am very sorry for what has happened, but I suppose it had to be. I wish I could thank you for all your kindness to me, but I know this is not the time. So I will only say good-bye.
"Yours,
"MAUD."
The second note consisted of one sentence only, "I am going to my mother. Maud." And when she had written it she picked up a tiny packet of tissue-paper that lay beside her and dropped it into the envelope with the note. She addressed the envelope to Lord Saltash, Burchester Castle, and later she sealed and registered it, stopping at a post-office to send it on its way. She believed it would reach its destination almost as soon as he did. And that packet--that tiny object wrapped in tissue-paper--would convey its own message. No further words were needed.