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 you hear Lord Beaconsfield—no, was it Lord Beaconsfield ? No, no, your memory, Vivian, 's very bad; it was Lord Courtown: didn't you hear him say that Frederick Cleveland was Lucifer.—He is Lucifer; he is, upon my honor—how shocking! What times we live in! To think of you, Vivian Grey; you, a respectable young man, with a worthy and respectable father; to think of you leaving your card at—the Devil's!—Oh! shocking! shocking! But never mind, my dear fellow! never mind, don't lose heart.—I'll tell you what to do—talk to him, and by Jove, if he doesn't make me an apology, I'm not a Cabinet Minister. Good night, my dear fellow; he 's sure to make an apology; don't be frightened; remember what I say, talk to him,—talk—talk."—So saying, the worthy Marquess reeled and retired.

"What have I done?" thought Vivian; "I'm sure that Lucifer may know, for I do not. This Cleveland is, I suppose, after all but a man. I saw the feeble fools were wavering; and to