the Marquess of Carabas, as his Lordship's eyes wandered over the paragraph. Vivian drew his chair close to the table opposite to the Marquess, and when the paragraph was read, their eyes met.
"Utterly untrue," whispered the peer with an agitated voice, and with a countenance which, for a moment, seemed intellectual. "But why, Mr. Vivian Grey should deem the fact of such overtures having been made, 'impossible,' I confess, astonishes me."
"Impossible, my Lord!"
"Ay, Mr. Grey, impossible, that was your word."
"Oh, my Lord! what should I know about these matters?"
"Nay, nay, Mr. Grey, something must have been floating in your mind—why impossible, why impossible? Did your father think so?"
"My father! Oh! no, he never thinks about these matters; our's is not a political family; I'm not sure that he ever looks at a newspaper."
