She had never realized what a relief it was to cry. Perhaps Phoebe had discovered this quite some time ago, which was why she cried so often. After several minutes of letting the tears flow, Julia finally wiped her face and poured herself some water, all the while aware of the paper stabbing her under her arm beneath her clothing. Julia wandered about the room. Would it be safe to deliver her note to the message tree now? Or should she wait? No one ever noticed her in the mornings, but her uncle might follow her if she left now. She pulled the paper out of her bodice and stuffed it in her reticule. She took up her bonnet and went downstairs. No one was around. No one asked her where she was going. With any luck, she could get to the park and be back within ten minutes, and no one would even know she had left the house. She arrived at the park, making her face a picture of contentment and calm. It was the hour when many people were out, taking the air, walking or riding, and she was forced to acknowledge several people before she turned the corner to find her tree.
