dear George, I have something silly and ridiculous to tell you.  I am foolishly writing, instead of telling you, as I ought to have done, after our walk.  I am heartbroken to-night that I did not tell you.  You will laugh at me, and you will take me for a man who simply talks nonsense.  You will show me the door, and fancy that I am not speaking the truth. . . .  I am in love with you. . . .”

She did not laugh at him, though, and she did not show him the door.  Things did not drag on long, evidently, as she writes to her confessor, Sainte-Beuve, on the 25th of August:  “I have fallen in love, and very seriously this time, with Alfred de Musset.”  How long was this to last?  She had no idea, but for the time being she declared that she was absolutely happy.

“I have found a candour, a loyalty and an affection which delight me.  It is the love of a young man and the friendship of a comrade.”  There was a honeymoon in the little flat looking on the Quay Malaquals.  Their friends shared the joy of the happy couple, as we see by Musset’s frolicsome lines: 

George est dans sa chambrette, Entre deux pots de fleurs, Fumiant sa cigarette, Les yeux baignes de pleurs.

Buloz assis par terre Lui fait de doux serments, Solange par derriere Gribouille ses romans.

Plante commme une borne, Boucoiran tout crott, Contemple d’un oeil morne Musset tout debraille, etc.

It is evident that, as poetry, this does not equal the Nuits.

In the autumn they went for a honeymoon trip to Fontainebleau.  It was there that the strange scene took place which is mentioned in Elle et Lui.  One evening when they were in the forest, Musset had an extraordinary hallucination, which he has himself described: 

Dans tin bois, sur une bruyere, Au pied d’un arbre vint s’asseoir Un jeune homme vetu de noir Qui me ressemblail comme un frere.

Le lui demandais mon chemin, Il tenait un luth d’ue main, De l’autre un bouquet d’eglantine.  Il me fit tin salut d’ami Et, se detournant a demu, Me montra du doigt la colline.

He really saw this “double,” dressed in black, which was to visit him again later on.  His Nuit de decembre was written from it.

They now wanted to see Italy together.  Musset had already written on Venice; he now wanted to go there.  Madame de Musset objected to this, but George Sand promised so sincerely that she would be a mother to the young man that finally his own mother gave her consent.  On the evening of December 12, 1833, Paul de Musset accompanied the two travellers to the mail-coach.  On the boat from Lyons to Avignon they met with a big, intelligent-looking man.  This was Beyle-Stendhal, who was then Consul at Civita-Vecchia.  He was on his way to his post.  They enjoyed his lively conversation, although he made fun of their illusions about Italy and the Italian character.  He made fun, though, of everything and of every one, and they felt that he was only being witty and trying to appear unkind.  At dinner he drank too much, and finished by dancing round the table in his great fur-lined boots.  Later on he gave them some specimens of his obscene conversation, so that they were glad to continue their journey without him.