The worst of a position like mine is, that it causes me incessantly to think and talk of myself.

I believe I think less than I talk, but the subject is growing stale; as those who are long dying feel, I dare say--if they do not take it as the compensation for their departure.' The Bull's Head, or British Jury of Twelve, with the wig on it, was faced during the latter half of a week of good news.

First, Mr.Thomas Redworth was returned to Parliament by a stout majority for the Borough of Orrybridge: the Hon.

Percy Dacier delivered a brilliant speech in the House of Commons, necessarily pleasing to his uncle: Lord Larrian obtained the command of the Rock: the house of The Crossways was let to a tenant approved by Mr.Braddock: Diana received the opening proof-sheets of her little volume, and an instalment of the modest honorarium: and finally, the Plaintiff in the suit involving her name was adjudged to have not proved his charge.
She heard of it without a change of countenance.
She could not have wished it the reverse; she was exonerated.

But she was not free; far from that; and she revenged herself on the friends who made much of her triumph and overlooked her plight, by showing no sign of satisfaction.