Already before leaving home she had dropped in his mind the seed of that passion, which, in a man of fifty, can take the place of all others,—­ambition.  Thus he came to Paris with the secret desire and the hope of becoming a leader in politics, and making his mark in some great affair of state.

The countess however, aware of the dangers which beset a man who ventures upon such slippery ground, determined first to examine the condition of things so as to be able to warn him in time.  Fortunately her fortune and her name were of great service to her in this enterprise.  She managed to assemble at her house all the celebrities of the day.  Her relations helped her; and soon her Wednesdays and Saturdays became famous in Paris.  People exerted themselves to the utmost to obtain an invitation to her state dinners, or her smaller parties on Sundays.  Her house in Varennes Street was looked upon as neutral ground, where political intrigues and party strife were alike tabooed.  The countess spent a whole winter in making her observations.

The world, seeing her sit modestly by her fireside, thought she was wholly occupied with her pretty daughter, Henrietta, who was always playing or reading by her side.  But she was all the time listening, and trying, with all her mental powers, to understand the great questions of the day.  She studied characters; watched the passions of some, and discovered the cunning tricks of others, ever anxious to find out what enemies she would have to fear, and what allies to conciliate.  Like one of those ill-taught professors who study in the morning what they mean to teach in the afternoon, she prepared herself for the lessons which she soon meant to give.  Fortunately her apprenticeship was short, thanks to her superior intellect, her womanly cleverness, and rare talents which no one suspected.

She soon reaped the fruit of her labors.

The next winter the count, who had so far kept aloof from politics, came out with his opinions.  He soon made his mark, aided by his fine appearance, his elegant manners, and imperturbable self-possession.  He spoke in public, and made an impression by his good common-sense.  He advised others, and they were struck by his sagacity.  He had soon enthusiastic partisans, and, of course, as violent adversaries.  His friends encouraged him to become the leader of his party; and he worked day and night to achieve that end.

“Unfortunately I have to pay for it at home,” he said to his intimate friends; “for my wife is one of those timid women who cannot understand that men are made for the excitement of public life.  I should be still in the province, if I had listened to her.”

She enjoyed her work in quiet delight.  The greater the success of her husband in the world, the prouder she became of her own usefulness to him.  Her feelings were very much those of a dramatic poet who hears the applause given to the characters which he has created.