get to
the piano. Finally he could not resist, and said to Schloezer, "Do play
something for me!"

"Never!" said Schloezer. "I would not dare."

Then Liszt turned to me and asked me to sing. I also said, "I would not
dare." Whereupon he said, "Well, since no one will do anything, I will
play myself."

(The Minghettis, von Keudell, and Count Arco, Schloezer's secretary,
were the guests.)

How divinely he played! He seemed to be inspired. Certainly the
enthusiastic and sympathetic listeners were worthy to be his audience.

"Do you still sing Massenet?" he said to me. "Do you recollect my
dining with you in Paris, and your singing those exquisite songs?"

"Recollect it!" I cried. "How do you think I could ever forget?"

"Will you not sing? I will accompany you," he said. "Have you any of
Massenet's songs?"

"I have nothing with me to-night. I never dreamt of singing," I
answered.

Schloezer said: "That is no obstacle. I will send a servant to your
house directly to fetch the music." And in a very short time the music
was in my hands.

Then Liszt sat down and, turning over the pages, found what he wanted,
and I sang. Schloezer was radiantly happy. There was not one disturbing
element. Every one was as appreciative as he was himself--those who
listened as well as those who performed.

[Illustration:
NOTE FROM F. LISZT]

Liszt was at his best; I mean that he could not have been better.
Knowing that Count Arco sang, he insisted on hearing him. Arco at first
declined, but finally yielded--there was no resisting the arch-charmer.
Liszt played the "_Suoni la tromba_" (Arco's _cheval de bataille_), by
heart, of course, singing himself, to help the timid singer, and adding
variations on the piano.

Liszt was in such high spirits that we would not have been surprised if
he had danced a jig. He threw his long hair back from his forehead, as
if to throw care to the winds. Later he spread his large hands over the
keyboard in protest and said, "_No more from me_, but we must hear
Schloezer before we go." Therefore Schloezer was obliged to play. He can
only improvise, as you know. Liszt sat by his side and played a helpful
bass.

Schloezer ordered some champagne, and we all drank one another's
healths. It was after one o'clock when we bade our host adieu. Johan
and I took Liszt in our carriage and left him at his apartment in the
Via Margutta on our way home.

We saw a great deal of him afterward, and he dined with