Meanwhile the relations existing between Mrs. Creswell and her recently acquired connections, Maude and Gertrude, had not been placed on any more satisfactory footing. They lived together under an armed truce rather than a state of peace, seeing as little of each other as possible, Marian ignoring the girls in every possible way, except when they were perforce brought under her notice, and the girls studiously acting without reference to any supposed wishes or ideas of Mrs. Creswell's. Mr. Creswell followed his wife's lead exactly; he was so entirely wrapped up in her and her doings that he had no eye nor ear for any one else, and he would probably have been very much astonished if he had been told that a complete estrangement had taken place between him and the other members of his family, and would positively have denied it. Such, however, was the case. The girls, beyond seeing their uncle at meals, were left entirely to their own devices; and it was, under the circumstances, fortunate for their future that their past training had been such as it had been. Gertrude, indeed, was perfectly happy; for although Mr. Benthall had not actually proposed to her, there was a tacit understanding of engagement between them. He occasionally visited at Woolgreaves, and during the summer they had met frequently at various garden-parties in the neighbourhood; and Maude was as quiet and earnest and self-contained as ever, busied in her work, delighting in her music, and, oddly enough, having one thing in common with Mrs. Creswell--an interest in the forthcoming election, of which she had heard from Mr. Benthall, who was a violent politician of the Liberal school. One day the girls were sitting in the room which had been assigned to them on the establishment of the boudoir, and which was a huge, lofty, and by no means uncomfortable room, rendered additionally bright and cheerful by Gertrude's tasty handiwork and clever arrangement. It was one of those close warm days which come upon us suddenly sometimes, when the autumn has been deepening into winter, and the reign of fires has commenced. The sun had been shining with much of his old summer power, and the girls had been enjoying his warmth, and had let the fire out, and left the door open, and had just suspended their occupations--Maude had been copying music, and Gertrude letter-writing--owing to the want of light, and were chatting previous to the summons of the dressing bell. "Where is madam this afternoon, Maude?" asked Gertrude, after a little silence. "Shut up in the library with uncle and Mr. Gould--that man who comes from London about the election. I heard uncle send for her." "Lor', now, how odd!" said unsophisticated Gertrude; "she seems all of a sudden to have taken great interest in this election thing."