said, “Well, if in one of my walks I met Lord Thornborough and his friend Mr. Freeman (a young man of fashion who has accompanied him to this country), I am sure that I could not help offering them my assistance were there any difficulty to be got over; for certainly those young men could not help themselves over a hedge, ditch, or stile.” I _must_ give you a sketch of this London pair. They have both such heads for size, from the abundance of curled hair and whiskers that disfigure them, that if their bodies were concealed you would expect to see giants, judging by the proportion of limb that would suit such prodigious _capitals_. On the contrary, however, they are both rather diminutive than tall; their hands are not larger than a young lady’s, and as white as alabaster. Add to this appearance, rings, pins, chains, &c., and judge whether Fanny was very wide of the mark, when, with the rosy glow of sixteen, “redolent of life and spring,” her humanity would prompt the offer of her aid to creatures so pale, so thin, so cadaverous, that Mr. Bolton very truly said, that “they looked like weavers just out of an hospital.” But I have not done. How _can_ I believe the things that I hear? Two pink spots, which alone distinguished Lord Thornborough’s face from that of a corpse, and which I thought indicated consumption, are, Mr. Bolton declares, positively rouge! I blush as I write the word! But to return to the archery.--The gentlemen were not so successful as the ladies: Miss Campion sped her arrow right through the centre of the target, and claimed a victory, which her mother, who came within half an inch of the bull’s eye, refused to admit, demanding to be queen herself, and awarding only the second prize to her daughter. An altercation ensued, and the angry looks, the unkind taunts which I witnessed, live still in my memory. Matters grew so serious, that Mr. Otway proposed lots: Lady Campion drew the longest, and darting a look of fire at her rival, was crowned by Lord Thornborough, whom she in turn _voted_ to be winner in the teeth of justice and truth; and, after having reciprocally distinguished him by a wreath of Fame, caught him by the hand, and triumphantly led the way towards a fine Grecian temple in the grounds, where a magnificent collation was prepared, and where the _pseudo_ king and queen occupied a throne of scarlet and gold, decorated with laurels; while the rightful monarchs had not even the satisfaction of _mingling_ their complaints, as the _real_ hero was a sweet young midshipman, son to Mrs. Fraser, who laughed heartily at being _choused_, as he said, out of his conquest, and who seemed of much too noble a stamp to kneel at the feet of a haughty _regina_, who, though herself mortified, treated him with _sovereign_ contempt.