oman does or does not
marry. It is certain that the love of her two children filled the heart
of Mme. de Sevigne; her future life was devoted to their training, and
to repairing a fortune upon which her husband's extravagance had made
heavy inroads.

But the fascinating widow of twenty-five had a dangerous path to
tread. That she lived in a society so lax and corrupt, unprotected and
surrounded by distinguished admirers, without a shadow of suspicion
having fallen upon her fair reputation is a strong proof of her good
judgment and her discretion. She was not a great beauty, though the
flattering verses of her poet friends might lead one to think so. A
complexion fresh and fair, eyes of remarkable brilliancy, an abundance
of blond hair, a face mobile and animated, and a fine figure--these were
her visible attractions. She danced well, sang well, talked well, and
had abounding health. Mme. de La Fayette made a pen-portrait of her,
which was thought to be strikingly true. It was in the form of a letter
from an unknown man. A few extracts will serve to bring her more vividly
before us.

"Your mind so adorns and embellishes your person, that there is no one
in the world so fascinating when you are animated by a conversation from
which constraint is banished. All that you say has such a charm, and
becomes you so well, that the words attract the Smiles and the Graces
around you; the brilliancy of your intellect gives such luster to your
complexion and your eyes, that although it seems that wit should touch
only the ears, yours dazzles the sight.

"Your soul is great and elevated. You are sensitive to glory and to
ambition, and not less so to pleasures; you were born for them and they
seem to have been made for you... In a word, joy is the true state of
your soul, and grief is as contrary to it as possible. You are naturally
tender and impassioned; there was never a heart so generous, so noble,
so faithful... You are the most courteous and amiable person that ever
lived, and the sweet, frank air which is seen in all your actions makes
the simplest compliments of politeness seem from your lips protestations
of friendship."

Mlle. de Scudery sketches her as the Princesse Clarinte in "Clelie,"
concluding with these words: "I have never seen together so many
attractions, so much gaiety, so much coquetry, so much light, so much
innocence and virtue. No one ever understood better the art of having
grace without affectation, rail