Robert Meredith and Gertrude did not meet alone. They mutually and successfully avoided each other, and the elder sister was pointedly excluded by Eleanor and Mrs. Carteret from all the discussions which ensued relative to the arrangements for the marriage, which was to take place soon. Gertrude heard that her aunt and her sister purposed to go to London, to purchase Eleanor's _trousseau_, to select Eleanor's house, without a word of comment. But when something was said about the marriage taking place in London, she interposed, and in her customary sweet and yet dignified way remonstrated. Eleanor, she said, ought to leave no house for a husband's, but her own. "Mine!" said Eleanor. "I presume you mean yours--you are talking of the Deane." "I am talking of our mutual home, Eleanor, where once no such evil thing as a divided interest ever had a place.--Uncle,"--here she turned to Major Carteret, and laid her hand impressively upon his arm,--"speak for me in this. Tell Eleanor I am right, and that our parents--I, at least, have never felt their loss so bitterly before--would have had it so." "I'm sure I don't know what to say," replied Haldane Carteret forlornly. "I can't conceive what has come between you two girls; but I must say I do think Gerty is in the right in this instance.--Lucy, my dear, the wedding must be at the Deane." So that was settled; and afterwards, until Eleanor and Mrs. Carteret, accompanied by Robert Meredith, went to London, things were better between the sisters. There was not, indeed, any renewal of the intimate affection, the unrestrained cordiality of other times; and Gertrude felt mournfully that a complete restoration could never be--the constant interposition of Meredith would render that impossible. Under ordinary circumstances, the marriage of one by involving separation from the other must have loosened the old bonds; but this marriage was indeed fatal. They were young girls, however, and the evil influence which had come between them had not yet completely done its work, had not spoiled all their common interest in the topics which fittingly engage the minds of young girls. Gertrude strove to forget her own wounded feelings, to conquer her apprehensions, and to disarm the jealous reticence of her sister by frank interest and generous zeal. She succeeded to some extent, and the interval between the declaration of the engagement and the departure of Mrs. Carteret and Eleanor was the happiest time, so far as she was individually concerned, that Gertrude had known since the first painful consciousness of division had come between the sisters. Everything went on quietly on the surface of life at the Deane when Eleanor and her aunt had left home. Mr. Dugdale was a little more feeble, perhaps; his daily airing upon the terrace was shorter, his period of seclusion in his own rooms was lengthened; but he was very cheerful, and seemed to desire Gertrude's presence more constantly than ever.