Altogether this morning in the painter's studio was one of the most
agreeable we ever spent. But what shall I say then of the evening in a
_salon musicale_; with the first violoncello playing in the
world, and the Princess Czartoryski at the piano? We were invited at
eight, but it was nine before we entered our carriage. We arrived at
the hotel of Mrs. Erskine, a sister of Lord Dundalk, and found a very
select party. There were chairs and sofas enough for all without
crowding.
There was Frankomm of the Conservatoire, with his Stradivarius, an
instrument one hundred and fifty years old, which cost six thousand
dollars. There was his son, a little lad of twelve, who played almost
as well as his father. I wish F. and M. could have seen this. He was
but a year older than F., and yet played with the most astonishing
perfection. Among other things the little fellow performed a
_morceau_ of his own composition, which was full of pathos, and
gave tokens of uncommon ability. His father gave us sonatas of Mozart,
Chopin, &c., and a _polonaise_. The Princess Czartoryski
accompanied on the piano with extraordinary ability.
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