What a pity that the Tarantella is gone to Berlin, for, as you know from Schubert’s letter, Liszt is mixed up in this monetary affair, and I may have some unpleasantness.  He is a thin-skinned Hungarian, and may think that I do not trust him because I directed that the manuscripts should not be given otherwise than for cash.  I do not know, but I have a presentiment of a disagreeable mess.  Do not say anything about it to the ailing Leo; go and see him if you think it necessary, give him my compliments and thanks (although undeserved), and ask pardon for troubling him so much.  After all, it is kind of him to take upon him the forwarding of my things.  Give my compliments, also to Pleyel, and ask him to excuse my not writing to him (do not say anything about his sending me a very inferior piano).

I beg of you to put into the letter-box at the Exchange yourself the letter to my parents, but I say do it yourself, and before 4 o’clock.  Excuse my troubling you, but you know of what great importance my letter is to my people.

  Escudier has very likely sent you that famous album.  If you
  wish you may ask Troupenas to get you a copy as if it were for
  me; but if you don’t wish, say nothing.

[Footnote:  Leon Escudier, I suppose.  The brothers Marie and Leon Escudier established a music business in the latter part of the fourth decade of this century; but when soon after both married and divided their common property, Marie got their journal “La France Musicale” and Leon the music-business.  They wrote and published together various books on music and musicians.]

  Still one more bother.

At your leisure transcribe once more this unlucky Tarantella, which will be sent to Wessel when the day [of publication] is known.  If I tire you so much with this Tarentella, you may be sure that it is for the last time.  From here, I am sure you will have no more manuscript from me.  If there should not be any news from Schubert within a week, please write to me.  In that case you would give the manuscript to Troupenas.  But I shall write him about it.

  [7.] Nohant [1841], Friday evening.

My dear Julius,—­I send you a letter for Bonnet; read, seal, and deliver it.  And if in passing through the streets in which you know I can lodge, you find something suitable for me, please write to me.  Just now the condition about the staircase exists no longer. [Footnote:  Chopin felt so much stronger that high stairs were no longer any objection to lodgings.] I also send you a letter to Dessauer [footnote:  Joseph Dessauer, a native of Prague, best known by his songs.  He stayed in Paris in 1833, and afterwards settled in Vienna.  George Sand numbered him among her friends.] in answer to his letter which Madame Deller sent me from Austria.  He must already be back to Paris; be sure and ask Schlesinger,