As such, she undertook her daughter’s bringing up, and was extremely careful about everything that Germaine did and about the company she kept.  On the other hand, the daughter, who in the city of Calvin had been rather dull and quiet in her ways, launched out into a gaiety such as she had never known in Switzerland.  Mother and daughter, in fact, changed parts.  The country beauty of Geneva became the prude of Paris, while the quiet, unemotional young Genevese became the light of all the Parisian salons, whether social or intellectual.

The mother was a very beautiful woman.  The daughter, who was to become so famous, is best described by those two very uncomplimentary English words, “dumpy” and “frumpy.”  She had bulging eyes—­which are not emphasized in the flattering portrait by Gerard—­and her hair was unbecomingly dressed.  There are reasons for thinking that Germaine bitterly hated her mother, and was intensely jealous of her charm of person.  It may be also that Mme. Necker envied the daughter’s cleverness, even though that cleverness was little more, in the end, than the borrowing of brilliant things from other persons.  At any rate, the two never cared for each other, and Germaine gave to her father the affection which her mother neither received nor sought.

It was perhaps to tame the daughter’s exuberance that a marriage was arranged for Mlle. Necker with the Baron de Stael-Holstein, who then represented the court of Sweden at Paris.  Many eyebrows were lifted when this match was announced.  Baron de Stael had no personal charm, nor any reputation for wit.  His standing in the diplomatic corps was not very high.  His favorite occupations were playing cards and drinking enormous quantities of punch.  Could he be considered a match for the extremely clever Mlle. Necker, whose father had an enormous fortune, and who was herself considered a gem of wit and mental power, ready to discuss political economy, or the romantic movement of socialism, or platonic love?

Many differed about this.  Mlle. Necker was, to be sure, rich and clever; but the Baron de Stael was of an old family, and had a title.  Moreover, his easy-going ways—­even his punch-drinking and his card-playing—­made him a desirable husband at that time of French social history, when the aristocracy wished to act exactly as it pleased, with wanton license, and when an embassy was a very convenient place into which an indiscreet ambassadress might retire when the mob grew dangerous.  For Paris was now approaching the time of revolution, and all “aristocrats” were more or less in danger.

At first Mme. de Stael rather sympathized with the outbreak of the people; but later their excesses drove her back into sympathy with the royalists.  It was then that she became indiscreet and abused the privilege of the embassy in giving shelter to her friends.  She was obliged to make a sudden flight across the frontier, whence she did not return until Napoleon loomed up, a political giant on the horizon—­victorious general, consul, and emperor.