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As usual, she could not tear herself away from
Paris till the last moment, so that she only
arrived in Christiania on the last day of the
naturalists’ meeting. I was accustomed to
violent ups and downs in her moods, but this
time the contrast was very striking between her
spirits now and her depressed humour during
the first months of the year, and particularly
during the previous spring in Stockholm. She
had lived much with Poincaré and other great
mathematicians in Paris, and this intercourse
had revived her energy for work, and encouraged
her to try the solution of the problem which was
to create her greatest fame, and procure her the
first prize from the French Academy of Science.
And now science had become the only thing
in the world worth living for; everything else—
personal happiness, love, nature—was worthless;
search for scientific truth was the most beautiful
object in life, and exchange of ideas with your
equals, without personal tie, was the most
glorious thing in the world.
The creative spirit was over her, and she had
again one of her brilliant periods, when she was
all beauty, genius, sparkling life.
She arrived in Christiania at night, after three
days’ voyage from Hâvre. She had suffered
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