On one occasion she had withdrawn from her friends for a single evening, pleading indisposition.  The next evening she reappeared and her return was celebrated by an original poem written by no less a personage than the Abbe Regnier-Desmarais, who read it to the friends assembled around her chair: 

“Clusine qui dans tous les temps
  Eut de tous les honnetes gens
  L’amour et l’estime en partage: 
  Qui toujours pleine de bon sens
  Sut de chaque saison de l’age
  Faire a propos un juste usage: 
Qui dans son entretien, dont on fut enchante
  Sut faire un aimable alliage
  De l’agreable badinage,
  Avec la politesse et la solidite,
  Et que le ciel doua d’un esprit droit et sage,
  Toujours d’intelligence avec la verite,
Clusine est, grace au ciel, en parfaite sante.”

Such a poem would not be accorded much praise nowadays, but the hearts of her friends regarded the sentiments more than the polish, as a substantial translation into English will serve to show appeared in the lines: 

Clusine who from our earliest ken
  Had from all good and honest men
  Love and esteem a generous share: 
  Who knew so well the season when
  Her heritage of sense so rare
  To use with justice and with care: 
Who in her discourse, friends enchanted all-around,
  Could fashion out of playful ware
  An alloy of enduring wear,
  Good breeding and with solid ground,
  A heavenly spirit wise and fair,
  With truth and intellect profound,
Clusine, thanks be to Heaven, her perfect health has found.

Her salon was open to her friends in general from five o’clock in the evening until nine, at which hour she begged them to permit her to retire and gain strength for the morrow.  In winter she occupied a large apartment decorated with portraits of her dearest male and female friends, and numerous paintings by celebrated artists.  In summer, she occupied an apartment which overlooked the boulevard, its walls frescoed with magnificent sketches from the life of Psyche.  In one or the other of these salons, she gave her friends four hours every evening, after that retiring to rest or amusing herself with a few intimates.  Her friendship finds an apt illustration in the case of the Comte de Charleval.  He was always delicate and in feeble health, and Ninon when he became her admirer in his youth, resolved to prolong his life through the application of the Epicurian philosophy.  De Marville, speaking of the Count, whom no one imagined would survive to middle age, says:  “Nature, which gave him so delicate a body in such perfect form, also gave him a delicate and perfect intelligence.”  This frail and delicate invalid, lived, however, until the age of eighty years, and was always grateful to Ninon for her tenderness.  He never missed a reception and sang her praises on every occasion.  Writing to Saint-Evremond to announce his death, Ninon, herself very aged, says:  “His mind had retained all the charms of his youth, and his heart all the sweetness and tenderness of a true friend.”  She felt the loss of this common friend, for she again writes of him afterward:  “His life and that I live had much in common.  It is like dying oneself to meet with such a loss.”