I have already made mention of Mr. Wilson, the lawyer, whose acquaintance we procured through Sir Hercules and his lady.  This intimacy had very much increased; and a Miss Janet Wilson had come home from a finishing seminary near town.  Between this young lady and my sister Virginia a certain degree of intimacy had been formed, and of course I had seen a great deal of her at the times when I was at Greenwich.  She was a very pretty and very diminutive girl, but beautifully proportioned, although so very small; indeed, she was considered quite a model in figure, at least my mother used to say so, and I never heard any one disagree with her.  Janet had, moreover, large eyes, penciled eyebrows, and a dimpled chin.  Now, as Bessy was away at the time when I first made her acquaintance, if all these perfections were not enough for me to fall in love with, I must have been difficult to please at the age of eighteen, when one is not so very difficult; and the consequence was, I was her most devoted slave.  Mr. Wilson laughed at us, and seemed either to think that it would end in nothing, or that if it did end in something he had no objection.  Thus was I fixed; and with Virginia for a confidante, what was to prevent the course of true love running smooth?  Janet received all my sighs, all my protestations, all my oaths, and all my presents—­and many were the latter, although perhaps not equal to the former three.  It was, therefore, not surprising that Bessy, who had been out of the way, had been forestalled by this diamond edition of Nature’s handiwork.  Such was the state of my heart at the commencement of the year 1805.

I have mentioned that my mother had taken a house in the principal street; but I must now add that in the year 1804 she found it necessary to remove into one much larger, and had therefore shifted more to the upper part of the town.  Instead of being in a row, this house was detached, with a small garden in front and a good piece of ground at the back, which looked down toward the river.  The situation not being so central did no harm to my mother, as she was so well known; on the contrary, it made her even more fashionable.  She now kept no shop, but a show room; and had not only accommodation for more workpeople, but very handsome apartments to let.  In another point it was advantageous, which was on account of my father.  At the end of the garden there was an octangular summer-house, looking upon the river:  it was a good-sized room, boarded floor, and, moreover, it had a fireplace in it, and when shut up was very warm and comfortable.  My mother made this house over to my father as his own, to smoke and drink beer in; and my father preferred a place in which he could sit alone with his friends, to a public house, especially as the garden had a gate at the end of it by which he could admit himself whenever he pleased.  Here my father, Ben the Whaler, Anderson, and others would sit, having a commanding view of the Thames and the vessels passing and repassing—­in the summer-time, with all the windows open, and enjoying the fresh air and the fresh smoke from their pipes—­in winter-time surrounding the fire and telling their yarns.  It was an admirable arrangement, and Virginia and I always knew where to find him.