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Mrs. Van Tromp's horrified amazement was bad enough, but when Macfarren turned and saw James, his waiter for ten years, heretofore a model of gravity and discreetness, with his mouth stretched from ear to ear convulsed with silent laughter, he could scarcely refrain from braining him with the water-decanter before him. In an instant James saw the dangerous look in Macfarren's eye, and, as if by magic, his countenance assumed its look of wonted stolidity, but not until Macfarren had hissed at him, in an aside, "Confound your infernal insolence, if you smile again I'll break every bone in your rascally body." James was an arrant coward, and not a tremor appeared upon the placid surface of his countenance during the rest of the dinner—not even when he handed Macfarren a card from Mrs. Van Tromp, on which was scrawled, "Quite unconventional, but so high-bred."

Then came the ordering of the dinner. Macfarren, without consulting his vis-à-vis, did it all. He did not bother with the entrées, but required plain roast beef, potatoes, and plum-pudding.