keeping
with the customs of the time, she plunged into social life with a
vigor and an aptitude which soon attracted attention. She played all
sorts of roles at the most fashionable houses, "through her consummate
acting and _bons mots_ drawing tears of vexation from her less gifted
sisters. She plays nine instruments, writes dramas, recasts others,
organizes and drills amateurs, besides attending to a thousand and one
other things."

Through the influence of her aunt, Mme. de Montesson, who was
secretly married to the Duke of Orleans, Mme. de Genlis was appointed
lady-in-waiting in the household of the Duchesse de Chartres, the
duke's daughter-in-law, whose salon was celebrated in Paris. She
soon won the confidence of the duchess, and became her confessor,
secretary, guide, and oracle, but did not abandon in the least her
pursuit of pleasure. She even took possession of the heart of the duke
himself, and in 1782 was made "_gouverneur_" to his children, the Duc
de Valois, later Louis-Philippe, the Duc de Montpensier, the Comte de
Beaujolais, and Mlle. Adelaide; for the education of her pupils she
had the use of several chateaux. Many a piquant epigram and chanson
were composed for the edification of the "_gouverneur_." It is said
that she acted as panderer for the princes, especially Louis-Philippe,
of a "legitimate means of satisfying these ardent desires of which
I am being devoured," by leading them to the nuns in the convents
by means of a subterranean passage. The following passages from the
journal of Louis-Philippe show the nature of his relations with her:

(December, 1790.) "I went to dine with my mother and grandfather.
Although I am delighted to dine often with my mother, I am deeply
sorry to give only three days out of the seven to my dear Bellechasse
[that is, to Mme. de Genlis]."

(January, 1791.) "Last evening, returned to my friend [Mme. de
Genlis]; remained there until after midnight; I was the first one to
have the good fortune of wishing her a 'Happy New Year.' Nothing can
make me happier; I don't know what will become of me when I am no
longer with her."

(January, 1791.) "Yesterday, I was at the Tuileries. The queen spoke
to my father, to my brother, and said nothing to me--neither did the
king nor Monsieur, in fact, no one. I remained at my friend's until
half-past twelve. No one in the world is so agreeable to me as is
she." (February, 1791.) "I was at the assembly at Bellechasse, dined
at t