clared to be true by the world, and which
Camille has never disavowed, enforce the questions suggested by her
personal appearance. Perhaps she likes those calumnies.

The nature of her beauty has not been without its influence on her fame;
it has served it, just as her fortune and position have maintained her
in society. If a sculptor desires to make a statue of Brittany let him
take Mademoiselle des Touches for his model. That full-blooded, powerful
temperament is the only nature capable of repelling the action of time.
The constant nourishment of the pulp, so to speak, of that polished skin
is an arm given to women by Nature to resist the invasion of wrinkles;
in Camille's case it was aided by the calm impassibility of her
features.

In 1817 this charming young woman opened her house to artists, authors
of renown, learned and scientific men, and publicists,--a society toward
which her tastes led her. Her salon resembled that of Baron Gerard,
where men of rank mingled with men of distinction of all kinds, and the
elite of Parisian women came. The parentage of Mademoiselle des Touches,
and her fortune, increased by that of her aunt the nun, protected her
in the attempt, always very difficult in Paris, to create a society. Her
worldly independence was one reason of her success. Various ambitious
mothers indulged in the hope of inducing her to marry their sons, whose
fortunes were out of proportion to the age of their escutcheons. Several
peers of France, allured by the prospect of eighty thousand francs a
year and a house magnificently appointed, took their womenkind, even
the most fastidious and intractable, to visit her. The diplomatic world,
always in search of amusements of the intellect, came there and found
enjoyment. Thus Mademoiselle des Touches, surrounded by so many forms
of individual interests, was able to study the different comedies
which passion, covetousness, and ambition make the generality of men
perform,--even those who are highest in the social scale. She saw, early
in life, the world as it is; and she was fortunate enough not to fall
early into absorbing love, which warps the mind and faculties of a woman
and prevents her from judging soberly.

Ordinarily a woman feels, enjoys, and judges, successively; hence three
distinct ages, the last of which coincides with the mournful period of
old age. In Mademoiselle des Touches this order was reversed. Her youth
was wrapped in the snows of knowledge and t