ew years later he built a beautiful villa at Troldhaugen, not
far from Bergen, where he spent the rest of his life. Some American
friends who visited them in 1901, speak of the ideal existence of
the artist pair. Grieg himself is described as very small and frail
looking, with a face as individual, as unique and attractive as his
music--the face of a thinker, a genius. His eyes were keen and blue;
his hair, almost white, was brushed backward like Liszt's. His hands
were thin and small; they were wonderful hands and his touch on the
piano had the luscious quality of Paderewski's. Mme. Grieg received
them with a fascinating smile and won all hearts by her appearance and
charm of manner. She was short and plump, with short wavy gray hair
and dark blue eyes. Her sister, who resembled her strongly, made up
the rest of the family. Grieg called her his "second wife" and they
seemed a most united family.

Here, too, Grieg had his little work cabin away from the house, down
a steep path, among the trees of the garden. In this tiny retreat he
composed many of his unique pieces.

As a pianist, there are many people living who have heard Grieg play,
and all agree that his performance was most poetical and beautiful. He
never had great power, for a heavy wagon had injured one of his hands,
and he had lost the use of one of his lungs in youth. But he always
brought out lyric parts most expressively, and had a "wonderfully
crisp and buoyant execution in rhythmical passages." He continued to
play occasionally in different cities, and with increased frequency
made visits to England, France and Germany, to make known his
compositions. He was in England in the spring of 1888, for on May
3, the London Philharmonic gave almost an entire program of Grieg's
music. He acted in the three-fold capacity of composer, conductor and
pianist. It was said by one of the critics: "Mr. Grieg played his
own Concerto in A minor, after his own manner; it was a revelation."
Another wrote; "The Concerto is very beautiful. The dreamy charm of
the opening movement, the long-drawn sweetness of the Adagio, the
graceful, fairy music of the final Allegro--all this went straight
to the hearts of the audience. Grieg as a conductor gave equal
satisfaction. It is to be hoped the greatest representative of 'old
Norway' will come amongst us every year."

Grieg did return the next year and appeared with the Philharmonic,
March 14, 1889. The same critic then wrote:

"