nted with the master's fastidiousness and good taste in matters
of furniture and room decoration, above all, his horror of vulgar
gaudiness.

Let us try to get some glimpses of Chopin in his new home. Lindsay
Sloper, who--owing, no doubt, to a great extent at least, to the letter
of recommendation from Moscheles which he brought with him--had got
permission from Chopin to come for a lesson as often as he liked at
eight o'clock in the morning, found the master at that hour not in
deshabille, but dressed with the greatest care. Another early pupil, M.
Mathias, always fell in with the daily-attending barber. M. Mathias
told me also of Chopin's habit of leaning with his back against the
mantel-piece while he was chatting at the end of the lesson. It must
have been a pretty sight to see the master in this favourite attitude
of his, his coat buttoned up to the chin (this was his usual style),
the most elegant shoes on his small feet, faultless exquisiteness
characterising the whole of his attire, and his small eyes sparkling
with esprit and sometimes with malice.

Of all who came in contact with Chopin, however, no one made so much of
his opportunities as Lenz: some of his observations on the pianist
have already been quoted, those on the man and his surroundings
deserve likewise attention. [FOOTNOTE: W. von Lenz: "Die Grossen
Pianoforte-Virtuosen unserer Zeit."] Lenz came to Paris in the summer
or autumn of the year 1842; and as he wished to study Chopin's mazurkas
with the master himself, he awaited impatiently his return from Nohant.
At last, late in October, Lenz heard from Liszt that Chopin had arrived
in town; but Liszt told him also that it was by no means an easy thing
to get lessons from Chopin, that indeed many had journeyed to Paris for
the purpose and failed even to get sight of him. To guard Lenz against
such a mishap, Liszt gave him a card with the words "Laissez passer,
Franz Liszt" on it, and advised him to call on Chopin at two o'clock.
The enthusiastic amateur was not slow in availing himself of his artist
friend's card and advice. But on reaching his destination he was met
in the anteroom by a male servant--"an article of luxury in Paris, a
rarissima avis in the house of an artist," observes Lenz--who informed
him that Chopin was not in town. The visitor, however, was not to be
put off in this way, and insisted that the card should be taken in to
Chopin. Fortune favours the brave. A moment after the servan