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The depth of Macfarren's infatuation may be judged when he let this speech pass unchallenged.

Although Marian ate heartily, yet the dinner was comparatively short, and Macfarren had no idea of ordering any dessert but the pudding. Before he knew it, however, the table had been cleared, and James had placed before them not only plum-pudding, but a strawberry ice and a dish of nuts and raisins. Lady Marian attacked the nuts first, cracking them between her small strong white teeth like a squirrel, and then said to Macfarren, "Lend me thy dagger for the pudding." Macfarren gazed at her stupidly. "Hast not thou a dagger?" she asked, impatiently. "These pointless blades I see here can cut nothing. Feel in thy belt."

Mechanically Macfarren put his hand in his pocket, and, drawing out his penknife, opened the largest blade, and handed it to her. This seemed to pacify Marian, who with the assistance of her fingers, speedily disposed of the pudding.

Then came the strawberry ice. With a silent but dreadful apprehension Macfarren watched her, and when something between a shriek and a groan pierced the air, he was the only person in the dining-room who was not surprised. Marian had gulped down half the plateful at once. Clapping her hands to her face, she rocked back and forth in her chair, evidently suffering agony. Several ladies half rose from their chairs; the head-waiter rushed forward; but Mrs. Van Tromp was already on the spot, holding Marian's hands.