I had almost become involved in fresh complications in consequence, when one day Count Paul Hatzfeld appeared at my house with a request that I would visit Mme. Kalergis, who had just arrived in Paris, to receive certain communications from her.  I now saw the lady again for the first time since my stay in Paris with Liszt in 1853.  She greeted me by declaring how much she regretted not having been present at my concerts in the preceding winter, as she had thereby missed the chance of helping me in a time of great stress.  She had heard that I had suffered great losses, the account of which she had been told ran to ten thousand francs, and she now begged me to accept that sum from her hand.  Although I had thought it right to deny these losses to Count Hatzfeld, when an application was made to the Prussian embassy on behalf of the odious subscription-list, yet I had now no reason whatever for hiding the truth from this noble-hearted woman.  I felt as though something were now being fulfilled which I had always been entitled to expect, and my only impulse was an immediate desire to show my gratitude to this rare lady by at least doing something for her.  All the friction which disturbed our later intercourse sprang solely from my inability to fulfil this desire, in which I felt ever more and more confirmed by her singular character and restless, unsettled life.  For the present I endeavoured to do something for her which should prove the reality of my feeling of obligation.  I improvised a special performance of the second act of my Tristan, in which Mme. Viardot was to share the singing parts with myself, and on which occasion my friendship for the latter received a considerable impetus; while for the pianoforte accompaniment I summoned Klindworth at my own expense from London.  This exceedingly select performance took place in Mme. Viardot’s house.  Besides Mme. Kalergis, in whose honour alone it was given, Berlioz was the only person present.  Mme. Viardot had specially charged herself with securing his presence, apparently with the avowed object of easing the strained relations between Berlioz and myself.  I was never clear as to the effect produced upon both performers and listeners by the presentation under such circumstances of this extraordinary selection.  Mme. Kalergis remained dumb.  Berlioz merely expressed himself warmly on the chaleur of my delivery, which may very well have afforded a strong contrast to that of my partner in the work, who rendered most of her part in low tones.  Klindworth seemed particularly stirred to anger at the result.  His own share was admirably executed; but he declared that he had been consumed with indignation at observing Viardot’s lukewarm execution of her part, in which she was probably determined by the presence of Berlioz.  By way of set-off to this, we were very pleased by the performance, on another evening, of the first act of the Walkure, at which, in addition to Mme. Kalergis, the singer