The concert took place in the Imperial Opera House, just ten days after his arrival, and from all accounts was a great success.  Chopin was more than satisfied, he was delighted.  Indeed his success was so emphatic that a second concert was given the following week.  In both he played some of his own compositions and improvised as well.

“It goes crescendo with my popularity here, and this gives me much pleasure,” he wrote home, at the end of the fortnight, and on the eve of starting to return.  On the way back the travelers visited Prague, Teplitz and Dresden.  A couple of days were spent in each, and then the party arrived safely in Warsaw.

With such an intense nature, friendship and love were two vital forces controlling life and action.  Chopin was devoted to his friends; he clung to them with effusive ardor, incomprehensible to those less sensitive and romantic.  With Titus Woyciechowski he was heart to heart in closest intimacy, and wrote him the most adoring letters when they chanced to be separated.  Titus was less demonstrative, but always remained devoted.

Love for women was destined to play a large part in the inner life of Chopin.  The first awakening of this feeling came from his admiration of Constantia Gladowska, a beautiful girl and vocal pupil at the Conservatory at Warsaw.  Strangely enough he admired the young lady for some time at a distance, and if report be true, never really declared himself to her.  But she filled his thoughts by day, and he confessed to dreaming of her each night.  When she made her debut in opera, he hung on every note she sang and rejoiced in her success but did not make his feelings known to her.  All this pent-up emotion was confined to his piano, in impassioned improvisations.

Seeing no suitable field for his genius in Warsaw and realizing he ought to leave home and strike out for himself, he yet delayed making the break.  He continued putting off the evil day of parting from home and friends, and especially putting a wide distance between himself and the object of his adoration, Constantia.

The two years of indecision were fruitful in producing much piano music and in completing the beautiful E minor Concerto, which was rehearsed with orchestra and was performed at the third and last concert he ever gave in Warsaw.  This concert was arranged for October 11, 1830.  Chopin requested Constantia Gladowska, whom he had never met, to sing an aria.  In the success of the evening sorrow was forgotten.  He wrote to his friend:  “Miss Gladowska wore a white gown with roses in her hair and was wondrously beautiful; she had never sung so well.”

After this event, Chopin decided the time had come for him to depart.  His trunk was bought, his clothing ready, pocket-handkerchiefs hemmed; in fact nothing remained but the worst of all, the leave-taking.  On November I, 1830, Elsner and a number of friends accompanied him to Wola, the first village beyond Warsaw.  There they were met by a group of students from the Conservatory, who sang a cantata, composed by Elsner for the occasion.  Then there was a banquet.  During this last meal together, a silver goblet filled with Polish earth was presented to Chopin in the name of them all.