the instrument and begin rummaging the volumes bound in green, the heirs accepted the torture and silence which were about to be inflicted upon them, with demonstrations of pleasure, so anxious were they to know what was hatching between their uncle and the Portenduères.
It often happens that a piece, poor in itself, but played by a young girl under the influence of deep feeling, makes more impression than a grand overture pompously rendered by a skilled orchestra. In all music, besides the composer’s idea, there exists the soul of the player, who, through a license acquired only in this art, may give meaning and poetry to phrases that have no great value. Chopin to-day proves the truth of this fact on the thankless piano, as has been already demonstrated by Paganini on the violin. This grand genius is not so much a musician as a soul that becomes alive and which would transmit itself through every kind of music, even through simple harmonies. From her sublime and perilous organization Ursule belonged to this school of rare genius; but old Schmucke, the master who used to come every Saturday, and who, during Ursule’s stay in Paris, saw her every day, had brought his pupil’s talent to the height of its perfection. Rousseau’s Dream, the piece chosen by Ursule, one of the youthful compositions of Herold, is, moreover, not lacking in a certain depth which can be developed in the playing; she threw into it the feelings that were agitating her and thoroughly justified the title of
