egretting
that she had not spoken before, and then went out of the room. He
returned in a few moments without his shoes, resumed his seat, and
continued the conversation. Other persons came in, and noticing him in
this situation, he said, by way of explanation, 'The smell of my shoes
annoyed Madame Recamier, so I left them in the antechamber.'"
After the death of his father, Monsieur Ballanche left Lyons, and passed
the rest of his life in the society of her whom he worshipped with so
single-minded a devotion.
Madame Recamier subsequently left Lyons for Italy, and the next new
admirer whose attentions we have to chronicle is Canova. During her stay
in Rome he wrote a note to her every morning, and the heat of the city
growing excessive, he invited her to share his lodgings at Albano.
Taking with her her niece and waiting-maid, she became his guest for two
months. A Roman artist painted a picture of this retreat, with Madame
Recamier sitting near a window, reading. Canova sent the picture to her
in 1816. When she left Rome for a short absence, Canova modelled two
busts of her from memory, in the hope of giving her a pleasant
surprise,--one with the hair simply arranged, the other with a veil.
Madame Recamier was not pleased, and her annoyance did not escape the
penetrating eye of the artist. She tried in vain to efface the
unfavorable impression he had received, but he only half forgave her. He
added a crown of olives to the one with the veil, and when she asked him
about it, he replied, "It did not please you, so I made a Beatrice of
it."
Madame Recamier left Rome for Naples when Napoleon's power was on the
decline. The sovereigns Murat and Caroline Bonaparte treated her with
marked distinction, especially the Queen, who was not only gracious, but
confidential. Madame Recamier was with Caroline the day that Murat
pledged himself to the allied cause. He returned to the palace in great
agitation, and, stating the case to her without telling her that he had
already made his decision, asked what course he ought to pursue. She
replied, "You are a Frenchman, Sire. It is to France that you owe
allegiance." Murat turned pale, and, throwing open the window, showed
her the English fleet entering the harbor, and exclaimed, "I am, then, a
traitor!" He threw himself on a couch, burst into tears, covering his
face with his hands. Madame Recamier's candor did not affect their
friendly relations. When the Queen acted as Regent in
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