was not all the misery; he was also unable to teach.  Thus all his sources of income were cut off.  From Chopin’s pupil Madame Rubio (nee Vera de Kologrivof) I learned that latterly when her master was ill and could not give many lessons, he sent to her several of his pupils, among whom was also Miss Stirling, who then came to him only once a week instead of oftener.  But after his return from England Chopin was no longer able to teach at all. [Footnote:  “When languor [son mal de langueur] took hold of him,” relates Henri Blaze de Bury in “Etudes et Souvenirs,” “Chopin gave his lessons, stretched on a sofa, having within reach a piano of which he made use for demonstration.”] This is what Franchomme told me, and he, in the last years especially, was intimately acquainted with Chopin, and knew all about his financial affairs, of which we shall hear more presently.

As we saw from the letter quoted at the end of the last chapter, Chopin took up his quarters in the Square d’Orleans, No. 9.  He, however, did not find there the recovery of his health, of which he spoke in the concluding sentences.  Indeed, Chopin knew perfectly by that time that the game was lost.  Hope showed herself to him now and then, but very dimly and doubtfully.  Nothing proves the gravity of his illness and his utter prostration so much as the following letters in which he informs his Titus, the dearest friend of his youth, that he cannot go and meet him in Belgium.

Chopin to Titus Woyciechowski; Paris, August 20, 1849:—­

  Square d’Orleans, Rue St. Lazare, No 9.

My dearest friend,—­Nothing but my being so ill as I really am could prevent me from leaving Paris and hastening to meet you at Ostend; but I hope that God will permit you to come to me.  The doctors do not permit me to travel.  I drink Pyrenean waters in my own room.  But your presence would do me more good than any kind of medicine.—­Yours unto death,

  Frederick.

  Paris, September 12, 1849.

My dear Titus,—­I had too little time to see about the permit for your coming here; [footnote:  As a Russian subject, Woyciechowski required a special permission from the Rusian authorities to visit Paris, which was not readily granted to Poles.] I cannot go after it myself, for the half of my time I lie in bed.  But I have asked one of my friends, who has very great influence, to undertake this for me; I shall not hear anything certain, about it till Saturday.  I should have liked to go by rail to the frontier, as far as Valenciennes, to see you again; but the doctors do not permit me to leave Paris, because a few days ago I could not get as far as Ville d’Avraye, near Versailles, where I have a goddaughter.  For the same reason they do not send me this winter to a warmer climate.  It is, then, illness that retains me; were I only tolerably well I should certainly have visited you in Belgium.