“This meeting produced a very vivid impression; the veil, the crèpe, the mourning costume served to bring into relief the fairness of the complexion and the beauty of the young widow. Beaumarchais soon left his horse for the carriage, and as no author dialogued better for the stage so no man ever brought more art into his conversation. If at first it was simply sallies of wit, it became by degrees more interesting and finished by being attractive. Beaumarchais finally proposed that the ladies should come and dine at his home. Madam B. persuaded the young woman to consent, although she refused several times. He sent back his horse by his domestic which was the signal arranged with his sister in order that she might prepare to receive the ladies, one of whom was an entire stranger. “It is very different seeing a man out riding and seeing him in his own home. It is there that one must follow him in order to judge him rightly and so it was on entering that unpretentious, though elegant and convenient home, seeing Beaumarchais surrounded by his old domestics, seated between his father and sister, the latter a young woman of much intelligence and proud of such a brother, the young woman could not but realize that it would be an honor to have him for her husband. The table disposes to confidence, the heart opens and discloses itself; they had not left it before each was sure of the other and they had but one desire, never to separate. They were married in April, 1768. His fortune was increased by that of his wife, and his happiness by the possession of a woman who loved him passionately.” His wife’s name was Madame Lévêque, _née_ Geneviève Madeleine Watebled. She was possessed of an ample fortune which added to that of Beaumarchais made their position in every way desirable. The world at last seemed ready to smile upon him and he quite content to settle down to peaceful enjoyment of all the blessings with which his life was now crowned. Gudin says, “Happy in love and in his friends, he amused himself in painting the effects of these passions in a drama, ‘_Les Deux Amis_.’” The following year a son was born to him, the happiness of being a father was the only happiness which had hitherto been denied him. The new drama, “_Les Deux Amis_,” although he himself says of it, “It is the most powerfully composed of all my works,” was not a success before the Parisian public. In the provinces and in the most of Europe it met with a very different reception, long retaining its favor with the public there.