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VIVIAN GREY.
The lady bowed.
"I'll have a palace in town."
The lady bowed.
"I'll have lots of the best Havannah cigars."
The lady bowed.
"I'll have a fair wife.—Why, Miss Manvers, you forget to bow!"
"Oh, dear! Mr. Grey, I really beg your pardon!"
"Come, this is a novel way of making an offer, and, I hope, a successful one."
"Julia, my dear," cried a voice in the veranda, "Julia, my dear, I want you to walk with me."
"Say you are engaged with the Marchioness," whispered Vivian, with a low but distinct voice; his eyes fixed on the table, and his lips not appearing to move.
"Mamma, I'm———"
"I want you immediately and particular-
