with him; and he took his place on the
benches and in the cabinet this season, without any trace of bronchia,
or any sign of wearing out.

Lady Clive, I regret to say, "does not know" Lady Earlscourt: anything
for her beloved brother she _would_ do, were it possible; but she hopes
we understand that, for her daughters' sakes, she feels it quite
impossible to countenance that "shocking little intrigante."

A LINE IN THE "DAILY."

A LINE IN THE "DAILY."

WHO DID IT, AND WHO WAS DONE BY IT.

"Lieutenant-Colonel Fairlie's troop of Horse Artillery is ordered to
Norwich to replace the 12th Lancers, en route to Bombay."--Those three
lines in the papers spread dismay into the souls of Norfolk young
ladies, and no less horror into ours, for we were very jolly at
Woolwich, could run up to the Clubs and down to Epsom, and were far too
material not to prefer ball-room belles to bluebells, strawberry-ice to
fresh hautboys, the sparkle of champagne-cups to all the murmurs of the
brooks, and the flutter of ballet-girls' wings to all the rustle of
forest-leaves. But, unhappily, the Ordnance Office is no more given to
considering the feelings of their Royal Gunners than the Horse Guards
the individual desires of the two other Arms; and off we went to
Norwich, repining bitterly, or, in modern English, swearing hard at our
destinies, creating an immense sensation with our 6-pounders, as we
flatter ourselves the Royals always contrive to do, whether on fair
friends or fierce foes, and were looked upon spitefully by the one or
two young ladies whose hearts were gone eastwards with the Twelfth,
smilingly by the one or two hundred who, having fruitlessly laid out a
great deal of tackle on the Twelfth, proceeded to manufacture fresh
flies to catch us.

We soon made up, I think, to the Norwich girls for the loss of the
Twelfth. They set dead upon Fairlie, our captain, a Brevet
Lieutenant-Colonel, and a C. B. for "services in India," where he had
rivalled Norman Ramsay at Fuentes d'Onor, had had a ball put in his hip,
and had come home again to be worshipped by the women for his romantic
reputation. They made an immense deal, too, of Levison Courtenay, the
beauty of the troop, and called Belle in consequence; who did not want
any flummery or flirtation to increase his opinion of himself, being as
vain of his almond eyes as any girl just entered as the favorite for the
season. There were Tom Gower, too, a capital fellow, wit