Instead of a woollen gown she wore a silk one, but the color was still black; her language had not become refined; she retained the same blunt familiar accent, and at the end of five minutes' conversation with any one of importance she could not resist calling him "my dear," to come morally near him.

Her commands had more fulness.

In giving her orders, she had the manner of a commander-in-chief, and it was useless to haggle when she had spoken.
The best thing to do was to obey, as well and as promptly as possible.
Placed in a political sphere, this marvellously gifted woman would have been a Madame Roland; born to the throne, she would have been a Catherine II.; there was genius in her.

Sprung from the lower ranks, her superiority had given her wealth; had she come from the higher, the great mind might have governed the world.
Still she was not happy; she had been married fifteen years, and her fireside was devoid of a cradle.

During the first years she had rejoiced at not having a child.