in life; a father is, perhaps, the worst judge of his son's capacity. He knows too much—and too little.
In the meantime, as we before stated, all was sunshine with Vivian Grey. His noble friend and himself were in perpetual converse, and constantly engaged in deep consultation. As yet, the world knew nothing, except that, according to the Marquess of Carabas, "Vivian Grey was the most astonishingly clever and prodigiously accomplished fellow that ever breathed." And as the Marquess always added, "resembled himself very much when he was young."
But it must not be supposed, that Vivian was to all the world the fascinating creature that he was to the Marquess of Carabas. Many complained that he was reserved, silent, satirical, and haughty. But the truth was, Vivian Grey often asked himself, "who is to be my enemy to-morrow?" He was too cunning
