onspicuous among these were two sisters, of whom the elder had been a recognized beauty and belle at the time of the War of Independence.
Miss Charlotte White was what was called a character in those days.
She was tall and of commanding figure, attired after an ancient fashion, but with great care.
I remember her calling upon my aunt one morning, in company with a lady friend much inclined to embonpoint. The lady's name was Euphemia, and Miss White addressed her thus: Feme, thou female Falstaff.
She took some notice of me, and began to talk of the gayeties of her youth, and especially of a ball given at Newport during the war, at which she had received especial attention.
On returning the visit we found the sisters in the quaintest little sitting-room imaginable, the floor covered with a green Brussels carpet, woven in one piece, with a medallion of flowers in the centre, evidently manufactured to order.
The furniture was of enameled white wood.
We were entertained with cake