His wife, a relation of le Tellier and Louvois, enjoyed the reputation of a wit, as well as of being the most charming woman in Paris. She had good sense, and was often annoyed by her husband's thoughtlessness, which caused him to degenerate at times into buffoonery; while her repartees and letters caused her to be universally cited and esteemed[69]; and her easy agreeable conversation made her the delight of every one who knew her. The airiness of her mind is well expressed in the names madame de Sévigné gives her in her correspondence: la Mouche, la Feuille, la Sylphide all denote a mixture of lightness, gaiety, and grace, with a touch of coquetry, and the _piquancé_ of wit, whose point was sharp, but free from venom. When madame de Maintenon became the chief lady in the kingdom, she was charmed to have near her this early friend and amusing companion. Madame de Coulanges frequented court assiduously, but she enjoyed no place. Her species of intellect was characteristic of the times. The conceits, mystifications, and metaphysical flights of the Hôtel de Rambouillet had given place to wit, and to sententious and pointed, yet perspicuous and natural, turns of expression. Truth and clearness, and a certain sort of art, that shrouded itself in an appearance of simplicity, was the tone aimed at by those who wished to shine. Equivokes, _sous-entendres_, metaphors, and antithesis, all kinds of trifles, sarcastic or laudatory, were lightly touched on, coloured for a moment with rainbow-hues, and vanished as fast: these were the fashion; and no conversation was more replete with these, and yet freer from obvious pretension, than that of madame de Coulanges. It is true that there must always be a sort of pedantry in an adherence to a fashion; but, when the manner is graceful, smiling, unaffected, and original, the pretension is lost in the pleasure derived. All this was natural to madame de Coulanges. Her confessor said of her. "Each of this lady's sins is an epigram." When recovering from a severe illness, madame de Sévigné announced, as the sign of her convalescence, "Epigrams are beginning to be pointed;" not that by epigrams sarcasms were meant, but merely novel turns of expression, words wittily applied, ideas full of finesse, that pleased by their originality. She and her husband were, perhaps, too much alike to accord well: she was annoyed at his want of dignity, and the heedlessness that, joined to her extravagance, left them poor and himself unconsidered. He liked to be where he was more at his ease than in his wife's company. Her faults, however, diminished as she grew old. She learnt to appreciate the court at its true value. She ceased her attendance on madame de Maintenon; but her intimacy with Ninon de l'Enclos continued to the end of her life. The ingratitude of her court friends, the smallness of her fortune, her advancing age, and consequent loss of beauty, and her weak health, rendered her neither crabbed nor sad: on the contrary, she became indulgent, gentle, and contented.