I did not try it, as I had to stay in Paris for various reasons till the middle of January and then wished to go round by La Côte Saint-André--where my laurel wreath earned me a warm welcome--after which, alone, and dreary, I turned my face towards Italy. _To_ HUMBERT FERRAND. “_November 1830._--Just a few lines in haste to tell you that I am giving a gigantic concert at the Conservatoire--the _Francs-Juges_ overture, the _Sacred Song_ and _Warrior’s Song_ from the Melodies, and _Sardanapalus_ with one hundred performers for the CONFLAGRATION, and last of all, the _Symphonie Fantastique_. “Come, oh, do come. It will be terrible. Habeneck conducts. The _Tempest_ is to be played a second time at the Opera. It is new, fresh, strange, grand, sweet, tender, surprising. Fétis wrote two splendid articles on it for the _Revue Musicale_. Some one said to him the other day that I was possessed of a devil. ‘The devil may possess his body, but, by Jove! a god possesses his head,’ he retorted. “_December._--You really must come; I had a frantic success. They actually encored the _Marche au Supplice_. I am mad! mad! My marriage is fixed for Easter 1832, on condition that I do not lose my pension, and that I go to Italy for a year. My blessed symphony has done the deed, and won this concession from Camille’s mother. “My guardian angel! for months I shall not see her. Why cannot I--cradled by the wild north wind upon some desolate heath--fall into the eternal sleep with her arms around me!” _To_ FERDINAND HILLER. “LA CÔTE SAINT-ANDRÉ, _January 1831_.--I am at home once more, deluged with compliments, caresses, and tender solicitude by my family, yet I am miserable; my heart barely beats, the oppression of my soul suffocates me. My parents understand and forgive. “I have been to Grenoble, where I spent half my time in bed, the other half in calling upon people who bored me to extinction. On my return I found awaiting me my longed-for letter from Paris. “Now comes yours, to spoil all! Devil take you! Was it necessary to tell me that I am luxuriating in despair, that _no one_ cares twopence for me, least of all the people for whom I am pining? * * * * * “In the first place, I am not pining for _people_, but for one person; in the second, if you have your reasons for judging her severely I have mine for believing in her implicitly, and I understand her better than any one. “How can you tell what she thinks? What she feels? Because you saw her gay, and apparently happy, at a concert why should you draw conclusions adverse to me? If it comes to that, you might have said the same of me if you had seen me at a family dinner at Grenoble, with a pretty young cousin on either side of me.