“I go to the opera.  No one there.  Then I write a letter, which brings the miss, old, horrible, with hideous teeth, but full of remorse for the part she had played, full of affection for me and contempt and horror for the Marquise.  Though my letters were extremely ironical and written for the purpose of making a woman masquerading as a false lady blush, she (Miss Patrickson) had recovered them.  I had the upper hand of Madame de C——­ She ended by divining that in this intrigue she was on the down side.  From that time forth she vowed me a hatred which will end only with life.  In fact, she may rise out of her grave to calumniate me.  She never opened Seraphita on account of its dedication, and her jealousy is such that if she could completely destroy the book she would weep for joy."[*]

[*] Seized with pity for this poor Irish woman, Balzac called later to
    see about some translations and found her overcome by drink in the
    midst of poverty and dirt.  He learned afterwards that she was
    addicted to the habit of drinking gin.

Notwithstanding their enmity Balzac visited her occasionally.  She had become so uncomely that he could not understand his infatuation at Aix, ten years before.  He disliked her especially because she had for the moment, in posing as Madame de Balzac, made Madame Hanska believe he was married.  He enjoyed telling her of Madame Hanska’s admiration for and devotion to him, and sarcastically remarked to her that she was such a “true friend” she would be happy to learn of his financial success.  Thus, during a period of several years, while speaking of her as his enemy, the novelist continued to dine with her, but was ever ready to overwhelm her with sarcasm, even while her guest.  Yet, in 1843, he dedicated to her L’Illustre Gaudissart, a work written ten years before.

Though he was fully recovered with time, this drama, played by a coquette, was almost tragic for the author of the Comedie humaine.  No other woman left so deep a mark of passion or such rankling wounds in his bleeding heart, as did she of whom he says: 

“It has required five years of wounds for my tender nature to detach itself from one of iron.  A gracious woman, this Duchess of whom I spoke to you, and one who had come to me under an incognito, which, I render her this justice, she laid aside the day I asked her to. . . .  This liaison which, whatever may be said, be assured has remained by the will of the woman in the most reproachable conditions, has been one of the great sorrows of my life.  The secret misfortunes of my situation actually come from the fact that I sacrificed everything to her, for a single one of her desires; she never divined anything.  A wounded man must be pardoned for fearing injuries. . . .  I alone know what there is of horror in the Duchesse de Langeais.”

In 1831 Balzac asked for the hand of a young lady