of intimacy, but no enmity.  I left Paris soon after, and never saw him again.”] This, however, was merely a way to get rid of an inconvenient question.  Franchomme explained the mystery to me, and his explanation was confirmed by what I learned from Madame Rubio.  The circumstances are of too delicate a nature to be set forth in detail.  But the long and short of the affair is that Liszt, accompanied by another person, invaded Chopin’s lodgings during his absence, and made himself quite at home there.  The discovery of traces of the use to which his rooms had been put justly enraged Chopin.  One day, I do not know how long after the occurrence, Liszt asked Madame Rubio to tell her master that he hoped the past would be forgotten and the young man’s trick (Junggesellenstuck) wiped out.  Chopin then said that he could not forget, and was much better as he was; and further, that Liszt was not open enough, having always secrets and intrigues, and had written in some newspapers feuilleton notices unfavourable to him.  This last accusation reminds one at once of the remark he made when he heard that Liszt intended to write an account of one of his concerts for the Gazette musicale.  I have quoted the words already, but may repeat them here:  “Il me donnera un petit royaume dans son empire” (He will give me a little kingdom in his empire).  In this, as in most sayings of Chopin regarding Liszt, irritation against the latter is distinctly noticeable.  The cause of this irritation may be manifold, but Liszt’s great success as a concert-player and his own failure in this respect [footnote:  I speak here only of his inability to impress large audiences, to move great masses.] have certainly something to do with it.  Liszt, who thought so likewise, says somewhere in his book that Chopin knew how to forgive nobly.  Whether this was so or not, I do not venture to decide.  But I am sure if he forgave, he never forgot.  An offence remained for ever rankling in his heart and mind.

From Chopin’s friends to his pupils is but one step, and not even that, for a great many of his pupils were also his friends; indeed, among them were some of those who were nearest to his heart, and not a few in whose society he took a particular delight.  Before I speak, however, of his teaching, I must say a few words about a subject which equally relates to our artist’s friends and pupils, and to them rather than to any other class of people with whom he had any dealings.

One of his [Chopin’s] oddities [writes Liszt] consisted in abstaining from every exchange of letters, from every sending of notes; one could have believed that he had made a vow never to address letters to strangers.  It was a curious thing to see him have recourse to all kinds of expedients to escape from the necessity of tracing a few lines.  Many times he preferred traversing Paris from one end to the other in order to decline a dinner or give some slight information, to saving himself the