“The handwriting of the few lines of cold politeness which he received in answer, confirmed at once the bold hope he had entertained; and he hurried to the appointment, with what feelings of tenderness and gratitude may well be imagined. In all the conversations which I have held with him upon the subject, he has never been led into betraying the particulars of this interview—no one can tell how he first broke to the lady the discovery he had made, nor how she received his warm and trembling thanks; but from that hour her spirit had found its master, and bowed to his own, held captive and enslaved. “The faith and devotion of the fair young countess, were never belied through the long years of trial and vicissitude which followed, and instances are recorded of her risking hopes of fame and fortune, nay, her very life itself, to aid the prince in the struggle against destiny which he had so bravely undertaken. She twice made the journey to England alone, without protection, going round by way of Holland, to serve him; and when, by the sale of her first novel in England, she had realized a small sum of money, it was shared with him, who, she declared to the latest hour of her life, had more right to it than she herself, for he it was who had caused her to exercise the talent which Heaven had bestowed, and the existence of which she would never have known had it not been for the taste and cultivation which he had imparted. “Their double marriage was a double error, which has never been satisfactorily accounted for, and which must remain a secret. In the case of the lady it brought rank and affluence, but neither ease of mind nor happiness, while in that of the prince, which _followed_ soon after, the consequences were humiliation and disappointment.” “Oh!” said I, “you must surely have something to tell me concerning the marriage of the prince? That is one of the greatest events of his life, and one which has puzzled his biographers more than his most ambiguous proceedings.” “The world has been unjust to Madame de Talleyrand,” replied C. “I knew her for many years, and she was far from being the fool which it has pleased the public to consider her. M. de Talleyrand himself, amid all his good-humoured quotations of her _bêtise_, or absence of mind, cannot help pausing to commend the great tact and admirable _esprit de conduite_ which made her, during those years when he was in high office under Napoleon’s government, an invaluable aid and ally by the manner in which she practised that most difficult art, so highly prized by the French, _l’art de tenir son salon_. This, to a man of M. de Talleyrand’s tastes, might be of much more importance than the _bon mots_ of Madame de Staël, or the stately dignity of Madame Recamier. Look at yonder portrait by the side of the window, and you can judge of the beauty which had power to fascinate a man so _difficile_ and _blasé_ as M. de Talleyrand.”