circumstances, it would be indelicate in us to hint at."

It would have been impossible for a hawk to watch its quarry with eyes
of more fixed and anxious earnestness than did Vivian Grey 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; ours is not a
political family; I am not sure that he ever looks at a newspaper."

"But, my dear Mr. Grey, you would not have used the word without some
meaning. Why did you think it impossible? impossible is such a peculiar
word." And here the Marquess looked up with great earnestness to a
portrait of himself, which hung over the fire-place. It was one of Sir