I have said but little of my sister Virginia.  I may be considered partial to her—­perhaps I was; but to me she was, if not the handsomest, certainly one of the most captivating persons I ever saw:  to prove that I thought so, I can only say that, deeply as I was smitten with Miss Janet Wilson, I often thought that I wished she was a facsimile of my sister.  Virginia was now seventeen years old, slender and very graceful:  she reminded me more of an antelope in her figure than anything I can compare her to; her head was so beautifully placed on her shoulders that it was the first thing which attracted your notice when you saw her.  Her eyes were of a deep hazel, fringed by long black eyelashes, and her arching and delicate eyebrows nearly met; her nose was perfectly straight, but rather small; and her face ended in a sharp oval, which added to the brilliancy and animation of her countenance; her mouth was small and beautifully formed, and her little teeth like seed pearl.  Every one declared that she was the handsomest creature that ever they had seen; and what every one says must be true.  She was so; but she was not always lively—­she was only so at times:  she appeared to be of a serious, reflective turn of mind, and she read a great deal; but at times she was mirth personified.  To my mother she was always dutiful and attentive, and was very useful to her.

I could not at first imagine what made my mother so anxious to have lodgers in the house, as they must have proved a great nuisance to her, and her circumstances were above such an infliction.  It was not long before I discovered the cause of this:  it was no other but to make up some good match for my sister, whose beauty she considered would effect her purpose.  Many were the applications for her lodgings, made by highly respectable gentlemen; but when she discovered, either that they were married, or that in other points they did not suit, she invariably refused, and for months her apartments continued vacant; but if anybody at all aristocratical, who was single, wished to inspect them, my mother was all smiles and eagerness.  It may be supposed that she was not likely to meet with such people as she solicited at such a town as Greenwich, but such was not the case:  before steamboats made Greenwich so come-at-able there were many families of distinction who resided there and in its environs—­especially in the autumn of the year, when the river offered much amusement.  It was just at that period that the whitebait parties became so much in vogue, and Greenwich was considered a pleasant retreat for a few months by many of the fashionable world.