In everything that concerned him, he relied especially upon the opinion of his accompanist; he felt her to be an abler and more serious judge than the most of those around him.  But—­with the shy reserve of merit unacknowledged even to itself,—­the young woman shrank from expressing her impressions.  If I may judge by the anecdote which follows, the artist was at times distressed by this.

One day Delsarte, granting one of those favors of which he was never lavish, consented to sing a composition of which he was particularly fond, to a few friends.  It was the air from Mehul’s “Joseph:”  “Vainly doth Pharaoh ...”

Mme. Delsarte, always ready at the first call, took her seat at the piano.

The master was in the mood—­that is, in full possession of all his powers.  His pathos was heartrending.

“You won a great triumph,” I said to him; “I saw tears in Mme. Delsarte’s eyes.”

“My wife’s eyes,” he cried as if struck by surprise, “are you quite sure?”

“Perfectly,” I replied.

He seemed greatly pleased.  Putting aside all other feeling, it was no slight triumph to move to such a point one who assisted at and sat through his daily lessons for hours at a time.

A few years sufficed to form a family around this very young couple.  It was soon a charming accessory to see children fluttering about the house; slipping in among the scholars; showing a furtive head—­dark or light—­at one of the doors of the lecture-room.  Let me recall their names:  The eldest were Henri, Gustave, Adrien, Xavier, Marie; then came after a long interval, Andre and Madeleine.

Delsarte loved them madly; for their future he dreamed all the dreams of the Arabian Nights.  Meantime, he played with them so happily that he seemed to take a personal delight in it.

He gave them all the joys of this life that were within his reach, and it was well that he did so!  Alas! of the dreams of glory cherished for these beloved beings, some few were realized, but many faded promptly with the existence of those who called them forth.

But we must not anticipate.  At the time of which I speak the children were growing and developing, each according to its nature, in full freedom.  Those who felt a vocation seized on the wing—­rather than they received from irregular lessons—­some fragments of that great art which was taught in the school.

Marie learned while very young to reproduce with marvelous skill what were called the attitudes and the physiognomic changes.  Madeleine delighted in making caricatures which showed great talent.  The features of certain pupils and frequenters of the lectures were plainly recognizable in these sketches made by a childish hand.

Gustave was a child of an open face and broad shoulders.  One incident will show his originality.

A strange lady came to the master’s house one day either to ask a hearing or offer a pupil.  She met this charming boy.