“But consider!  This is to be a party given by the Crown Prince to his father.”

This last consideration touched the obstinate heart.

“Well!  I will go,” he said, “but it is only on three conditions:  I must be the only singer; I am to have the chorus from the Opera to accompany me; and I am not to be paid.”

“You will establish a dangerous precedent.”

“Those are my irrevocable terms.”

All were granted.

From his youth up Delsarte manifested this, perhaps excessive, contempt for money.  On one occasion it was quite justifiable.  Father Bambini had taken him to a party where he was to sing on very advantageous terms.  The scholar was treated with deference; but the teacher who had neither a fine face nor the claims of youth to shield him against aristocratic prejudice, was received much as a servant would have been who had made a mistake in the door.

The young singer felt the blood mantle his brow, and his heart rebelled.

“Take your hat and let us go!” he said to his old master.

“But why?” replied the good man.  He had heeded nothing but his pupil’s success.

Delsarte dragged him away in spite of his protests, and lost by his abrupt departure the profits of the evening.

Chapter XI.

Delsarte’s Family.

Delsarte married, in 1833, Miss Rosina Andrien.  The young husband felt a high esteem for his father-in-law (primo basso cantante at the Opera); but we must not suppose that this consideration influenced his choice.  He made a love marriage such as one makes at the age of twenty-two, with such a nature as his.  Moreover, reason was never in closer accord with love.

Miss Andrien was remarkably beautiful.  She was fifteen; her talent as a pianist had already won her a first prize at the Conservatory.  She was just the companion, wise and devoted, to counterbalance the flights of imagination and the momentary transports inherent in the temperament of many artists.

I pause, fearing to wound a modesty which I know to be very sensitive:  the living cannot bear praise with the indifference of the dead; but I must be allowed to insist upon the valuable assistance which the young wife lent her husband in his professional duties; this is a special part of my subject.

Mme. Delsarte started with a genuine talent.  The situation in which she was placed, soon made her a perfect accompanist.  Never was there more perfect harmony between singer and player.  Amid the incessant interruptions necessary to a lesson, the piano never lagged a second either in stopping or in going on again.  The note fell promptly, identical with the first note of the piece under study.  To attain to this obedient precision, one must possess indomitable patience, must be willing to be utterly effaced.  Delsarte appreciated this self-denial in proportion to the merit of her who practiced it.