I was already earning a deal of money, so that I felt no
manner of inclination for matrimony. But my mother, who believed M.
Lebrun to be very rich, incessantly plied me with arguments in favour
of accepting such an advantageous match. At last I decided in the
affirmative, urged especially by the desire to escape from the torture
of living with my stepfather, whose bad temper had increased day by
day since he had relinquished active pursuits. So little, however, did
I feel inclined to sacrifice my liberty that, even on my way to
church, I kept saying to myself, "Shall I say yes, or shall I say no?"
Alas! I said yes, and in so doing exchanged present troubles for
others. Not that M. Lebrun was a cruel man: his character exhibited a
mixture of gentleness and liveliness; he was extremely obliging to
everybody, and, in a word, quite an agreeable person. But his furious
passion for gambling was at the bottom of the ruin of his fortune
and my own, of which he had the entire disposal, so that in 1789, when
I quitted France, I had not an income of twenty francs, although I had
earned more than a million. He had squandered it all.

[Illustration: PORTRAIT OF THE AUTHORESS.]

My marriage was kept secret for some time. M. Lebrun, who was supposed
to marry the daughter of a Dutchman with whom he did a great business
in pictures, asked me to make no announcement until he had wound up
his affairs. To this I consented the more willingly that I did not
give up my maiden name without regret, particularly as I was so well
known by that name. But the keeping of the secret, which did not last
long, was nevertheless fraught with disastrous consequences for my
future. A number of people who simply believed that I was merely
considering a match with M. Lebrun came to advise me to commit no such
piece of folly. Auber, the crown jeweller, said to me in a friendly
spirit: "It would be better for you to tie a stone to your neck and
jump into the river than to marry Lebrun." Another day the Duchess
d'Aremberg, accompanied by Mme. de Canillas, and Mme. de Souza, the
Portuguese Ambassadress, all very young and pretty, came to offer
their belated counsels a fortnight after the knot had been tied. "For
heaven's sake," exclaimed the Countess, "on no account marry M.
Lebrun! You will be miserable if you do!" And then she told me a lot
of things which I was happy enough to disbelieve, but which only
proved too true afterward. The announcement of my mar