the centre of the group. She pined in the exile and
mourned with ever-increasing sorrow for her country. Her interest in the
events of the time was cruelly intense, and burned out her life. M. de
Narbonne, whose life she had saved, was one of her consolations in the
dreadful exile, as was the friendship of Talleyrand and of Benjamin
Constant.

She returned to France after quiet was restored, and lived in Paris
something after the old way. Then came Napoleon, whom she hated with all
the ardor of her nature, and who returned her hate with interest. He
banished her from France, and would not permit her return during his
entire reign. "She carries a quiver full of arrows," he said, "which
would hit a man were he seated upon a rainbow." It was a purely personal
dislike on his part, and a piece of his most odious despotism to allow
his personal feelings to influence him in such a matter. There are few
things recorded of him more utterly inexcusable than this. She passed
fourteen years in exile,--the best years of her life,--and exile to her
had all the bitterness of death; she could never really live except in
Paris. We hear little of her husband during all this time, but it is
not likely that she derived much consolation from domestic life. She had
no taste for it, and found it the supreme bore. She consoled herself as
much as she could with literature, and wrote those books which,
wonderful and brilliant as they are, all who knew her personally unite
in saying, never did justice to her genius. The gloom of exile was over
them all. She suffered a great variety of petty persecutions at the
hands of Napoleon during all those years, and these added to the
inevitable miseries of her lot.

After the fall of the Napoleonic empire she returned to Paris, and there
passed the remainder of her life. It was at this time that she presented
the constitution to Charles X. She was never remarkable for her taste in
dress, and that Prince thus describes her on that occasion:--

"She wore a red satin gown embroidered with flowers of gold and
silk, a profusion of diamonds, rings enough to stock a pawnbroker's
shop; and I must add that I never before saw so low cut a corsage
display less inviting charms. Upon her head was a large turban,
constructed on the pattern of that worn by the Cumean sybil, which
put the finishing touch to a costume so little in harmony with the
style of her face. I scarcely can unde