there,--but she knew how to
attract them to her own by a coquetry subtly flattering; and in the
easy, natural, half-respectful and half-familiar air with which she
received them, I thought I saw remarkable address."

In a woman of less tact and penetration, this curious vein of hidden
vanity would have led to pretension. But Mme. Geoffrin was preeminently
gifted with that fine social sense which is apt to be only the fruit of
generations of culture. With her it was innate genius. She was mistress
of the amiable art of suppressing herself, and her vanity assumed the
form of a gracious modesty. "I remain humble, but with dignity," she
writes to a friend; "that is, in depreciating myself I do not suffer
others to depreciate me." She had the instinct of the artist who knows
how to offset the lack of brilliant gifts by the perfection of details,
the modesty that disarms criticism, and a rare facility in the art of
pleasing.

There was an air of refinement and simple elegance in her personality
that commanded respect. Tall and dignified, with her silvery hair
concealed by her coif, she combined a noble presence with great
kindliness of manner. She usually wore somber colors and fine laces,
for which she had great fondness. Her youth was long past when she came
before the world, and that sense of fitness which always distinguished
her led her to accept her age seriously and to put on its hues. The
"dead-leaf mantle" of Mme. de Maintenon was worn less severely perhaps,
but it was worn without affectation. Diderot gives us a pleasant glimpse
of her at Grandval, where they were dining with Baron d'Holbach. "Mme.
Geoffrin was admirable," he wrote to Mlle. Volland. "I remark always the
noble and quiet taste with which this woman dresses. She wore today a
simple stuff of austere color, with large sleeves, the smoothest and
finest linen, and the most elegant simplicity throughout."

In her equanimity and her love of repose she was a worthy disciple
of Fontenelle. She carefully avoided all violent passions and all
controversies. To her lawyer, who was conducting a suit that worried
her, she said, "Wind up my case. Do they want my money? I have some, and
what can I do with money better than to buy tranquillity with it?" This
aversion to annoyance often reached the proportions of a very amiable
selfishness. "She has the habit of detesting those who are unhappy,"
said the witty Abbe Galiani, "for she does not wish to be so, even by
th