George Sand did her utmost to make life within doors comfortable.  When the furniture bought from the Spanish refugee had been supplemented by further purchases, they were, considering the circumstances, not at all badly off in this respect.  The tables and straw-bottomed chairs were indeed no better than those one finds in the cottages of peasants; the sofa of white wood with cushions of mattress cloth stuffed with wool could only ironically be called “voluptuous”; and the large yellow leather trunks, whatever their ornamental properties might be, must have made but poor substitutes for wardrobes.  The folding-beds, on the other hand, proved irreproachable; the mattresses, though not very soft, were new and clean, and the padded and quilted chintz coverlets left nothing to be desired.  Nor does this enumeration exhaust the comforts and adornments of which the establishment could boast.  Feathers, a rare article in Majorca, had been got from a French lady to make pillows for Chopin; Valenciennes matting and long-fleeced sheep skins covered the dusty floor; a large tartan shawl did duty as an alcove curtain; a stove of somewhat eccentric habits, and consisting simply of an iron cylinder with a pipe that passed through the window, had been manufactured for them at Palma; a charming clay vase surrounded with a garland of ivy displayed its beauty on the top of the stove; a beautiful large Gothic carved oak chair with a small chest convenient as a book-case had, with the consent of the sacristan, been brought from the monks’ chapel; and last, but not least, there was, as we have already read in the letters, a piano, in the first weeks only a miserable Majorcan instrument, which, however, in the second half of January, after much waiting, was replaced by one of Pleyel’s excellent cottage pianos.

[Footnote:  By the way, among the many important and unimportant doubtful points which Chopin’s and George Sand’s letters settle, is also that of the amount of duty paid for the piano.  The sum originally asked by the Palma custom-house officers seems to have been from 500 to 600 francs, and this demand was after a fortnight’s negotiations reduced to 300 francs.  That the imaginative novelist did not long remember the exact particulars of this transaction need not surprise us.  In Un Hiver a Majorque she states tha the original demand was 700 francs, and the sum ultimately paid about 400 francs.]

These various items collectively and in conjunction with the rooms in which they were gathered together form a tout-ensemble picturesque and homely withal.  As regards the supply of provisions, the situation of our Carthusians was decidedly less brilliant.  Indeed, the water and the juicy raisins, Malaga potatoes, fried Valencia pumpkins, &c., which they had for dessert, were the only things that gave them unmixed satisfaction.  With anything but pleasure they made the discovery that the chief ingredient of Majorcan cookery, an ingredient