ce aptly
remarked, "Each one of her books contains the essence of innumerable
novels." Her literary work has been an afterthought, an accident; she is
not anxious to make a name by her writing, and her most intimate friends
have never heard her mention her literary faculty; like most
Frenchwomen, a devoted mother, when not helping her husband, she is
absorbed in her children, and whilst her boys were at the Lycee she
taught herself Latin in order to help them prepare their lessons every
evening; and she is now her young daughter's closest companion and
friend.

One of the most charming characteristics of Alphonse Daudet is his love
for, and pride in, his wife. "I often think of my first meeting with
her," he will say. "I was quite a young fellow, and had a great
prejudice against literary women, and especially against poetesses, but
I came, saw, and was conquered, and," he will conclude smiling, "I have
remained under the charm ever since.... People sometimes ask me whether
I approve of women writing; how should I not, when my own wife has
always written, and when all that is best in my literary work is owing
to her influence and suggestion. There are whole realms of human nature
which we men cannot explore. We have not eyes to see, nor hearts to
understand, certain subtle things which a woman perceives at once; yes,
women have a mission to fulfil in the literature of to-day."

[Illustration: THE PROVENCAL FURNITURE.]

Strangely enough, M. Daudet made the acquaintance of his future wife
through a favourable review he wrote of a volume of verse published by
her parents, M. and Madame Allard. They were so pleased with the notice
that they wrote and asked the critic to come and see them. How truly
thankful the one time critic must now feel that he was inspired to deal
gently by the little _bouquin_.

Madame Daudet is devoted to art, and her pretty _salon_ is one of the
most artistic _interieurs_ in Paris, whilst the dining-room, fitted up
with old Provencal furniture, looks as though it had been lifted bodily
out of some fastness in troubadour land.

The tie between the novelist and his children is a very close one; he
has said of Leon that there stands his best work; and, indeed, the young
man is in a fair way to make his father's words come true, for,
inheriting much of both parents' literary faculty, M. Leon Daudet lately
made his _debut_ as a novelist with _Hoeres_, a remarkable story with
a purpose, in which the