This “dark side” suggests itself.  It is impossible to read the record of Madame Recamier’s conquests without thinking of women slighted and neglected for her sake.  The greater number of her admirers were married men.  That their wives did not hate this all-conquering woman is strange indeed; that they witnessed her triumphs unmoved is scarcely credible.  For, while French society allows great laxity in such matters, and a domestic husband, as we understand the term, is a rarity, still French wives, we imagine, differ very little from other women in wishing to be considered a first object.  Public desertion is rarely relished even where there is no affection to be wounded, for it is not necessary to love to be jealous.  But whatever heart-aches and jealousies were caused by Madame Recamier’s conquests, they do not appear on the surface.  In her voluminous correspondence we find tender letters from husbands side by side with friendly notes from their wives.  Her biographer parades the latter with some ostentation, as a proof of the friendship these women entertained for Madame Recamier.  That they respected her is evident; that they loved her is not so apparent.  Mere complimentary notes prove but little.  He must be but a superficial judge of life who draws decided conclusions simply from appearances.  Madame Lucien Bonaparte might invite Madame Recamier to her fetes; but the consciousness that all her world knew that her husband was epris with her beautiful guest did not tend to make her cordial at heart.  Madame Moreau, young and lovely, might visit her intimately, and even cherish friendship for her; but she could scarcely be an indifferent spectator, when the great General demanded a white ribbon from her friend’s dress as a favor, and afterward wrote to her that he had worn it in every battle, and that it had been the talisman that led him on to victory.  Nor is it probable that Madame de Montmorency and Madame de Chateaubriand, unloved wives, saw without a pang another woman possess the influence which they exerted in vain.  But, if they suffered, it was in secret; and, moreover, they did justice to the character of their rival.  Madame Recamier’s reputation was compromised neither in their eyes nor in the eyes of the world.  Society is seldom just to any woman whose career in life is exceptional; but to her it was not only just, but indulgent.  When we reflect upon her peculiar position, so exposed to injurious suspicions, the doubtful reputation of some of her associates, the character for gallantry possessed by many of her avowed admirers, it seems scarcely possible that she should have escaped calumny.  The few scandals caused by some of her early indiscretions were soon dissipated, and she lived down all unpleasant rumors.  She, indeed, seemed to possess some talisman, as potent as the magic ring that bewitched King Charlemagne, by whose spell she disarmed envy and silenced detraction.  This attaching power she exercised on every person