AS a woman about town - wealthy, single and a Kennedy - Jean remains an object of enormous curiosity. Her assets are calculated at between £1.2 million and £2.8 million in addition to presumed access to family trust funds recently estimated at £560 million. Neither security worries nor her age - 68 - prevent her taking long, fast solitary walks in the Phoenix Park, clad in a pastel tracksuit, eyes determinedly averted.
The family name continues to exercise the public mind, fuelled most recently by the sensational rape trial and acquittal of her son, William (a regular visitor), and the speculation about her own marriage.
In the past few years she has been forced to publicly deny reports of a 1965 affair with the lyricist Alan Jay Lerner as well as suggestions in People magazine and elsewhere that her husband (whom she nursed through his last illness in 1990) was a philanderer.
Since her arrival in Ireland less than three years ago, Tim Pat Coogan, former editor of the Irish Press, has become a close friend, admirer and adviser. According to his book The Troubles, the new ambassador - whom he credits with playing a pivotal role in the peace process - first met important Northern contacts in Coogan's house.
When Ted Kennedy flew here to take soundings on the Adams visa, he stopped only for a shower at the residency before driving straight to Coogan's house "for lunch with Jean". Coogan writes evocatively of the long evenings spent at the residency while the White House agonised over whether or not to issue an unconditional visa to Joe Cahill: "At five o'clock in the morning, Irish time, as the shape of the deer could dimly be seen through the great windows opening to the east of the residence of the American Ambassador to Ireland, word arrived from the White House."
Outside of politics, she clearly enjoys the company of arts, film and showbusiness figures such as Jim and Peter Sheridan, Neil Jordan, Brendan Kennelly, Bill Whelan, Paul McGuinness, and Louis le Brocquy. Her enduring fascination with celluloid glamour (she is on "Betty" terms with Lauren Bacall) and sense of fun are exemplified by her walk on part in the forth coming Michael Collins film.
She has been seen dining with family members around town, attending first nights at the Abbey and Gaiety, clearly enjoying herself at concerts such as Diana Ross's at the Point.
The marriage of her daughter Kym to an Irishman in Dublin last summer triggered an influx of Kennedys, led by Ted. Though a joyous occasion, some guests remarked that Jean seemed more reflective than usual and they were probably right; the date coincided with the fifth anniversary of her husband's death.
Almost from the day of her arrival in Ireland she drew fire, first because she availed of a little known provision in the quarantine laws that enabled her two dogs to serve their time in a private quarantine facility in the Park. Then she drew more flak when she invited American business executives to contribute towards the upkeep of the ambassador's residence - the strange implication of the repo being that as a multi millionaire, she should fund the maintenance.
She appears to have drawn yet more flak because of her spectacular success in throwing open the residence to all comers, facilitating its use for lively charity events, politically sensitive dinners and mixed, cross Border communities. "There are no social divides in the Park," one guest says.
She is not without her detractors, however, many of them from "her own camp".
"I'm an admirer," says Ciaran Benson, Professor of Psychology at UCD and chairman of the Arts Council. "Her informality, her energy, her willingness to learn and her sense of humour have always impressed me."
For a Kennedy woman she has come a long way. The Kennedy women were never expected to be anything more than support for the Kennedy men but the significance of this only asserted itself for Jean after her ambassadorial ambitions went public and she was accused of being just a dilettante whose only credential was her family name.
The self deprecating wit and Kennedy ring of confidence, say friends, has always hidden a basic shyness. She has always had to acknowledge that she was the least celebrated of the Kennedy women, apologising for not being Jackie or Ethel or Patricia. But Jean's legacy may be the most substantial.