Madeline could almost have screamed with delight when she found herself once more on the Skylark.
"At last I am free," she said to herself, "and when Sir Charles sees me again I shall be my own mistress."
Half-an-hour later the Skylark weighed anchor and put out to sea.
CHAPTER XXXII
FACING THE INEVITABLE
When Saturday morning arrived and the Skylark had not been sighted, Sir Charles began to grow suspicious. An hour or two later his worst fears were confirmed. A letter was handed to him in Madeline's handwriting. The postmark, he noticed, was Genoa. He could hardly keep his hand steady while he tore open the envelope, and when he began to read his face grew ashen.
The letter was brief and quite explicit. She had no intention, she said, of returning again to Nice or to Cornwall. She was going back to America with the Harveys. For many things she was sorry she ever left it. She had been unhappy for months past—ever since the return of Gervase, in fact. To become his wife was simply impossible. She expressed her regret for any pain or annoyance she had caused, and her thanks for all kindnesses she had received. She regarded the appearance of the Harveys on the scene as an interposition of Providence, and her escape from an intolerable position as a direct answer to prayer.
Sir Charles had not got over the anger and disgust produced by this frank epistle when Gervase came hurriedly into the room, with blanched cheeks and a wild light in his eyes.