The association with the great had its disadvantages, thought Mrs. Van Tromp as she accepted this gracious condescension, but its advantages were too obvious to be overlooked. So, with much satisfaction, she supported Marian on the left, while Macfarren walked by her on the right. Marian took an opportunity to whisper to Macfarren, "I tolerate her only for your sake," in a tone which made him thrill with delight. At the doorway the head-waiter saluted them with a profound bow. Marian stopped short, and, carefully disposing of her train, made in return a courtesy so deep and so graceful that every eye was turned on her. As they passed on, she said, "I know neither the name nor the rank of the person I courtesied to, but I am sure he hath an air of breeding." When they entered the room everybody's attention was fixed upon them. Marian bore the scrutiny with perfect composure. Like all truly beautiful women, she seemed superbly unconscious of it, and, as she swept with majestic grace toward the upper part of the room, Macfarren glowed with pride at presenting so much dignity and loveliness to an admiring world. When they reached Mrs. Van Tromp's table, that lady gave unmistakable signs of a willingness to leave her own table for the privilege of dining with Lady Marian and Macfarren; but Macfarren, albeit the most courteous of men, had a fund of polite resolution that had more than once brought Mrs. Van Tromp and other grand dames to bay. He meant to have a _tête-à-tête_ with Marian: so, with consummate tact, he managed to leave Mrs. Van Tromp in the lurch and to take his seat with Marian at a table at the very top of the room. He had a design in this which quickly bore fruit. Marian remarked with pleasure that the top of the room was given her without dissent. There was no one at the table except themselves. When they were seated, and the waiter had handed them each a _menu_ card, Macfarren observed that Marian was deeply puzzled by hers. "What may this mean?" she asked. "It is not English, nor French, nor Latin, although it doth somewhat resemble all three. Or is it," she asked, archly, "a madrigal writ in my honor?" "No," said Macfarren, smiling; "although, if one could write at all, one might be inspired by such a theme." It was an old, old compliment, but it was evidently new to Marian, who smiled, and said, "Thou hast a dainty wit." Macfarren concluded not to trouble her about the _menu_, as she probably knew nothing about it: so he beckoned to the waiter, and said, "Turtle-soup for both." The waiter vanished. Marian had not ceased to gaze about her with an air of surprised admiration. "Never saw I so fine an hostelry before," said she. "Art thou not deceiving me, and is not this the house of some feudal prince?" "Indeed it is not," replied Macfarren, earnestly. "It is nothing but an inn, I assure you." "And all these gayly-costumed people--are they not persons of consideration?"