Felicie remained in Paris with her family till 1830. Her mother’s house was the centre of a charming circle of persons of high rank, of cultivated women, and of accomplished artists, such as Scheffer, Steuben, Gassier, Paul Delaroche, Triqueti, Gros, Giraud, etc. So distinguished and agreeable was the mother, so sensible and so witty was the conversation of the daughter, that their society was coveted and prized. The friends assembled of an evening in their drawing-room would gather round a large centre-table, and improvise drawings in pencil, chalk, and pen and ink; or would model, in clay or wax, brooches and ornaments, sword handles and scabbards, dagger-hilts, etc. The young lady wished to revive those famous days when sculpture lent its aid to the gold and silver smith, the jeweler, the clock-maker, and the armorer. To her may be chiefly attributed the impulse given to this taste in Paris--a taste that infected England also, reviving mediæval fashions for ornaments, and also mediæval feelings and aspirations, which at last found expression in Puseyism in religion, and pre-Raphaelism in art. She executed, for Count Portalès, a bronze lamp of singular beauty, representing a bivouac of archangels armed as knights. They are resting round a watch-fire, while one, St. Michael, is standing sentinel. It is in the old Anglo-Saxon style. Round the lamp, in golden letters, is the device, “_Vaillant, veillant_.” Beneath is a stork’s foot holding a pebble, a symbol of vigilance, surrounded by beautiful aquatic plants. The work was poetically conceived, and executed with great spirit and finish. She also commenced a work which she called “a monument to Dante,” and sketched an equestrian statue of Charles VIII. On returning from the expedition to Naples, it was said, the monarch paused on the ascent of the Alps, and turned to take a last farewell of the beautiful country--“wooed, not wed”--which he so unwillingly abandoned. The sculptress was most successful in rendering this expression of sadness and yearning. The pose of the horse was natural, yet commanding; and the work would doubtless have been a master-piece; but, unfortunately, the model had to be destroyed, on the breaking up of her studio. Mademoiselle de Fauveau had now acquired an eminence and gained a celebrity which must have satisfied the most ambitious. She was incessantly occupied with commissions for most of the private galleries in France; and a place was promised her among those great artists who are employed to adorn public monuments, and whose works enrich public collections. She was to have modeled two doors for the gallery in the Louvre, after the manner of Ghiberti’s Gates of Paradise; a baptistery and pulpit in one of the metropolitan churches had been already spoken of, when the revolution of 1830 broke up this calm and noble existence, and ended her career in Paris.