because romantic minds and imaginative litterateurs are always
busy developing plain facts and unfounded rumours into wonderful
myths. The picturesqueness of the story, the piquancy of the
anecdote, is generally in inverse proportion to the narrator's
knowledge of the matter in question. In short, truth is only too
often most unconscionably sacrificed to effect. Accounts, for
instance, such as L. Enault and Karasowski have given of Chopin's
first meeting with George Sand can be recommended only to those
who care for amusing gossip about the world of art, and do not
mind whether what they read is the simple truth or not, nay, do
not mind even whether it has any verisimilitude. Nevertheless, we
will give these gentlemen a hearing, and then try if we cannot
find some firmer ground to stand on.

L. Enault relates that Chopin and George Sand met for the first
time at one of the fetes of the Marquis de C., where the
aristocracy of Europe assembled--the aristocracy of genius, of
birth, of wealth, of beauty, &c.:--

The last knots of the chaine anglaise had already been untied,
the brilliant crowd had left the ball-room, the murmur of
discreet conversation was heard in the boudoirs: the fetes of
the intimate friends began. Chopin seated himself at the
piano. He played one of those ballads whose words are written
by no poet, but whose subjects, floating in the dreamy soul of
nations, belong to the artist who likes to take them. I
believe it was the Adieux du Cavalier...Suddenly, in the
middle of the ballad, he perceived, close to the door,
immovable and pale, the beautiful face of Lelia. [FOOTNOTE:
This name of the heroine of one of her romances is often given