She held receptions for her friends after the opera, and Balzac was one of the frequenters of her attractive salon.  Of her literary friends she was especially proud.  According to Theophile Gautier, this was her coquetry, her luxury.  If in some salon, some one—­as was not unusual at that time—­attacked one of her friends, with what eloquent anger did she defend them!  What keen repartees, what incisive sarcasm!  On these occasions, her beauty glowed and became illuminated with a divine radiance; she was magnificent; one might have thought Apollo was preparing to flay Marsyas!

“Madame de Girardin professed for Balzac a lively admiration to which he was sensible, and for which he showed his gratitude by frequent visits; a costly return for him who was, with good right, so avaricious of his time and of his working hours.  Never did woman possess to so high a degree as Delphine,—­we were allowed to call her by this familiar name among ourselves—­the gift of drawing out the wit of her guests.  With her, we always found ourselves in poetical raptures, and each left her salon amazed at himself.  There was no flint so rough that she could not cause it to emit one spark; and with Balzac, as you may well believe, there was no need of trying to strike fire; he flashed and kindled at once.” (Theophile Gautier, Life Portraits, Balzac.)

Balzac was interested in the occult sciences—­in chiromancy and cartomancy.  He had been told of a sibyl even more astonishing than Mademoiselle Lenormand, and he resolved that Madame de Girardin, Mery and Theophile Gautier should drive with him to the abode of the pythoness at Auteuil.  The address given them was incorrect, only a family of honest citizens living there, and the old mother became angry at being taken for a sorceress.  They had to make an ignominious retreat, but Balzac insisted that this really was the place and muttered maledictions on the old woman.  Madame de Girardin pretended that Balzac had invented all this for the sake of a carriage drive to Auteuil, and to procure agreeable traveling companions.  But if disappointed on this occasion, Balzac was more successful at another time, when with Madame de Girardin he visited the “magnetizer,” M. Dupotet, rue du Bac.

Besides enjoying for a long time the “happiness of being beautiful,” Delphine also enjoyed almost exclusively, in her set, that of being good.  In this respect, she was superior to her mother who for the sake of a witticism, never hesitated to offend another.  She had but few enemies, and, wishing to have none, tried to win over those who were inimical towards her.  For twenty-five years she played the diplomat among all the rivals in talent and in glory who frequented her salon in the rue Laffitte or in the Champs-Elysees.  She prevented Victor Hugo from breaking with Lamartine; she remained the friend of Balzac when he quarreled with her autocratic husband.  She encouraged Gautier, she consoled George Sand; she had a charming word for every one; and always and everywhere prevailed her merry laughter—­even when she longed to weep.  But her cheery laugh was not her highest endowment; her greatest gift was in making others laugh.