"What's this?" he said in an undertone to the butler. "_Sham pinions ho nateral_, sir." "Humph! no. Take the dish to Mr Alleyne." The man took the dish round to the guest, who, talking the while to Glynne, helped himself liberally, and went on eating. "Won't you have some, Rolph?" said the major, helping himself in turn. "I! No. Don't care for such dishes." "Seems to be very good," said the major. "Smells delicious, and everyone's eating it." "Not the ladies?" whispered Rolph. "Yes; they're revelling." "Good heavens!" muttered Rolph; and he turned cold and damp, the perspiration standing upon his brow. "Nothing worse in this world than prejudice," said the major, taking a mouthful of the delicate dish. "Ah, yes: superb. Jack, old fellow, try some of these fungi." "Get out!" said Sir John, sipping his wine. "But, my dear boy, they are simply magnificent," cried the major. "Here, take the dish to your master." The mushrooms were handed, and Sir John tried a little, recalled the dish, and had some more, while Rolph sat perfectly still, not daring to speak, though he saw everyone at the table partaking of the stew. "What are these?" said Sir John. "They're very good." "_Agaricus Rubescens_, my boy. Tons of them rot every year, because there is no one to pick them but Miss Lucy Alleyne and your humble servant here." "Well, don't let's have any more go rotten," cried Sir John. "They're delicious, eh, Mr Alleyne?" "I beg your pardon," said the visitor, looking up. "These fungi," said the host, "uncommonly good." "Yes, admirable," said Alleyne, who had finished his, and had not the most remote recollection of their quality. "I don't believe he tasted them," said Sir John to himself. "These are the fungi, Morris, that I gave you to-day to take into the kitchen?" said the major. "Yes, sir," said Morris, and the major finished his with great gusto. "Uncommonly delicious!" he said. "Capital, Jem," cried Sir John; "but I hope they won't poison us." "Trust me for that. They've been well tested, and are perfectly wholesome. Splendid dish." "They'll all be in agonies before long," thought Rolph. "I hope poor Glynne won't be very bad. A bit of an attack would serve her right, though, for going on like that with the star-gazer. Phew! how hot the room is." "I give you credit, Jem," cried the host. "What do you say, Miss Alleyne? It's of no use to ask these people; they are off on comets or something else." "Oh, I'm growing a confirmed fungus-eater, Sir John," said Lucy. "I am Major Day's disciple. I think them delicious." "You're a very charming little lassie, and I like you immensely," thought Sir John, gazing at Lucy curiously and thoughtfully; "but I hope Jem has too much common sense to be making a fool of himself over you. He likes you, I know, but fungus-hunting is one thing and wife-hunting another. No, I won't think it of you. You wouldn't lead him on, and he's too full of sound sense."