he
hospitable house at Frapesle, the doors of which were always open to
him; and there, away from creditors, publishers, journalists, and all
his other enemies, he was able to write in peace and quietness. There,
too, he made many pleasant acquaintances, among them M. Armand Pereme,
the distinguished antiquary, and M. Periollas, who was at one time
under M. Carraud at Saint-Cyr, and afterwards became chief of a
squadron of artillery. To Madame Carraud he also owed an introduction
to his most intimate male friend, Auguste Borget, a genre painter who
travelled in China, and drew many pictures of the scenery there.
Borget lodged in the same house with Balzac in the Rue Cassini, and is
mentioned by him in a letter to Madame Hanska, in 1833, as one of his
three real friends beside her and his sister, Madame de Berny and
Madame Carraud being the other two. It was a very real grief to Balzac
when Borget was away; and he says that even when the painter is
travelling, sketching, and never writes to him, he is constantly in
his remembrance; while in another letter he speaks of his friend's
nobility of soul and beauty of sentiment. To Borget was dedicated the
touching story of "La Messe de l'Athee"; and in case of Balzac's
sudden death it was to this "good, old, and true friend" that the duty
of burning Madame Hanska's letters were entrusted, though eventually
their recipient performed this painful task himself in 1847.

A still older friend was M. Dablin, a rich, retired ironmonger with
artistic tastes, who left his valuable collection of artistic objects
to the Louvre. He was known to Balzac before 1817; and in 1830 the
successful writer remembers with gratitude that M. Dablin used to be
his only visitor during his martyrdom in the Rue Lesdiguieres in 1819.
At that time and later he was most generous in lending Honore money;
and the only cloud that came between them for a long time was his
indignation when Balzac wished to find him further security than his
own life for a loan he had promised. Later on, in 1845, when M.
Dablin, rather hurt by some heedless words from Balzac, and evidently
jealous of his former protege's grand acquaintances, complained that
honours and fortune changed people's hearts--the great novelist found
time, after his daily sixteen hours of work, to write a long letter to
his old benefactor.[*] In this he tells him that nothing will alter
his affection for him, that all his real friends are equal in his
s