rs frequently from violent
headaches and pains in her eyes, which she tries to master as
much as possible and with much strength of will, so as not to
weary us with what she suffers.

The greatest event of my stay has been a peasants' ball on the
lawn of the chateau with the best bagpipers of the place. The
people of this part of the country present a remarkable type
of gentleness and good nature; ugliness is rare here, though
beauty is not often seen, but there is not that kind of fever
which is observable in the peasants of the environs of Paris.
All the women have the appearance of those sweet faces one
sees only in the pictures of the old masters. They are all
Saint Annes.

Amidst the affectations, insincerities, and superficialities of Chopin's
social intercourse, Delacroix's friendship--we have already seen that
the musician reciprocated the painter's sentiments--stands out like a
green oasis in a barren desert. When, on October 28, 1849, a few days
after Chopin's death, Delacroix sent a friend a ticket for the funeral
service of the deceased, he speaks of him as "my poor and dear Chopin."
But the sincerity of Delacroix's esteem and the tenderness of his love
for Chopin are most fully revealed in some lines of a letter which he
wrote on January 7, 1861, to Count Czymala [Grzymala]:--

When I have finished [the labours that took up all his time],
I shall let you know, and shall see you again, with the
pleasure I have always had, and with the feelings your kind
letter has reanimated in me. With whom shall I speak of the
incomparable genius whom heaven has envied the earth, and of
whom I dream often, being no longer able to see him in this
world nor to hear his divine harmonies.

If you see sometimes the charming Princess Marcelline
[Czartoryska], another object of my respect, place at her feet
the homage of a poor man who has not ceased to be full of the
memory of her kindnesses and of admiration for her talent,
another bond of union with the seraph whom we have lost and
who, at this hour, charms the celestial spheres.

The first three of the above extracts from Delacroix's letters enable us
to form a clear idea of what the everyday life at Nohant was like, and
after reading them we can easily imagine that its monotony must have had
a depressing effect on the company-loving Chopin. But the drawback was
counterbalanced by an advantage. At Paris most of Chopin's