s of this
masculine woman is her harp, which she carries about with her; she
speaks about it when she hasn't it--she plays on a crust of bread and
practises with a thread. When she perceives that someone is looking
at her, she rounds her arm, purses up her mouth, assumes a sentimental
expression and air, and begins to move her fingers. Gracious! what
a fine thing naturalness is!... I spent a delightful evening at the
Comtesse de La Massais's; she had hired musicians whom she paid dear;
but Mme. de Genlis sat in the centre of the assembly, commanded,
talked, commented, sang, and would have put the entire concert in
confusion, had not the Marquise de Livry very drolly picked a quarrel
with her about her harp, which she had brought to her. Decidedly, this
young D'Orleans has a singular governor. She holds too closely to her
role, and never forgets her _jupons_ [skirts] except when she ought
most to remember them."

During her visit to England she was petted by everyone; but even in
England there was a widespread prejudice against her--a feeling which
the mere sight of her immediately dissipated. An English lady wrote
about her:

"I saw her at first with a prejudice in her disfavor, from the cruel
reports I had heard; but the moment I looked at her it was removed.
There was a dignity with her sweetness and a frankness with her
modesty, that convinced me, beyond all power of contrary report, of
her real worth and innocence."

During the Revolution Mme. de Genlis travelled about Switzerland,
Germany, and England. At Berlin, owing to her poverty, she supported
herself by writing, making trinkets, and teaching, until she was
recalled to France, under the Consulate. In Paris she produced some of
her best works--although they were written to order. Napoleon gave
her a pension of six thousand francs and handsome apartments at the
Arsenal. To this liberal pension, the wife of his brother, Joseph
Bonaparte, added three thousand francs.

From Mme. de Genlis, Napoleon received a letter fortnightly, in which
epistle she communicated to him her opinions and observations upon
politics and current events. Upon the return to power of the Orleans
family, she was put off with a meagre pension. Like many other French
women, she became more and more melancholy and misanthropic. She was
unable to control her wrath against the philosophers and some of the
contemporary writers, such as Lamartine, Mme. de Stael, Scott, and
Byron. Her death,