later was to make her so strong. Felicite
died, Camille Maupin was born.

She returned to Paris with Conti, the great musician, for whom she wrote
the librettos of two operas. But she had no more illusions, and she
became, at heart, unknown to the world, a sort of female Don Juan,
without debts and without conquests. Encouraged by success, she
published the two volumes of plays which at once placed the name of
Camille Maupin in the list of illustrious anonymas. Next, she related
her betrayed and deluded love in a short novel, one of the masterpieces
of that period. This book, of a dangerous example, was classed with
"Adolphe," a dreadful lamentation, the counterpart of which is found
in Camille's work. The true secret of her literary metamorphosis and
pseudonym has never been fully understood. Some delicate minds have
thought it lay in a feminine desire to escape fame and remain obscure,
while offering a man's name and work to criticism.

In spite of any such desire, if she had it, her celebrity increased
daily, partly through the influence of her salon, partly from her
own wit, the correctness of her judgments, and the solid worth of her
acquirements. She became an authority; her sayings were quoted; she
could no longer lay aside at will the functions with which Parisian
society invested her. She came to be an acknowledged exception. The
world bowed before the genius and position of this strange woman; it
recognized and sanctioned her independence; women admired her mind, men
her beauty. Her conduct was regulated by all social conventions. Her
friendships seemed purely platonic. There was, moreover, nothing of the
female author about her. Mademoiselle des Touches is charming as a woman
of the world,--languid when she pleases, indolent, coquettish, concerned
about her toilet, pleased with the airy nothings so seductive to women
and to poets. She understands very well that after Madame de Stael there
is no place in this century for a Sappho, and that Ninon could not exist
in Paris without _grands seigneurs_ and a voluptuous court. She is the
Ninon of the intellect; she adores Art and artists; she goes from the
poet to the musician, from the sculptor to the prose-writer. Her heart
is noble, endowed with a generosity that makes her a dupe; so filled is
she with pity for sorrow,--filled also with contempt for the prosperous.
She has lived since 1830, the centre of a choice circle, surrounded by
tried friends who love her t