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Macfarren's position during this colloquy was awkward in the extreme. He had been blest in always seeing women in their gracious and lovable aspect, and now with these two ladies, each a queen in her own realm, facing each other, crimson and defiant, himself responsible for their meeting, the situation was anything but agreeable to his fastidious nature. But it need scarcely be said that his sympathies were all with Marian. Unconsciously she had been the aggressor; but how unjust to judge her by that stricter code of manners that governed Mrs. Van Tromp! How proud the young girl looked, serene in her consciousness of rank and position! How like an angry fish-wife looked Mrs. Van Tromp! And what was he to say or do? Obviously, nothing.

Mrs. Van Tromp made the next move. She was furiously vexed, but, being at the core a very shrewd woman, she did not intend to close every chink of reconciliation. The Lady Marian was certainly a very queer person, and this might be only one of her numerous peculiarities; but she was the daughter of Lord Howard de Winstanley and chaperoned by Lady Stukely. So, making a low bow, she said: