us twice. The
first time we asked Grieg, the Norwegian genius, thinking it would
please Liszt to meet him. Perhaps this was a mistake. However, it was a
most interesting evening. Mrs. Grieg sang charmingly (Grieg's songs, of
course); and Liszt, with his hands folded in front of him, was lost in
thought--or was he asleep? Let us say he _dozed_--only waking up to
clap his hands and cry "Brava!" But it was perfectly wonderful when he
read at sight a concerto of Grieg's, in manuscript, which Grieg had
brought with him. Liszt played it off as if he had known it all his
life, reading all the orchestra parts. Both these great artists were
enchanted with each other, but after a while Liszt became tired of
music and asked if we could not have a game of whist. To play a banal
game of whist with Liszt seemed a sacrilege, but we played, all the
same. I was very _distraite_, seeing Grieg and his wife (who do not
play cards) wandering restlessly around the room, and sometimes I put
on an ace when a two would have done the deed.

Liszt plays the piano better than he plays whist. I don't know how many
times he revoked. Every one pretended not to notice, and we paid up at
the finish without a murmur. He was delighted to win four lire and
something, and counted out the small change quite conscientiously.
Johan drove him home--a very tired and sleepy Liszt--and only left him
at the sill of his door.

I received a very queer letter the day Liszt dined here. I copy it for
you. It was from the Princess W----, a lady whose friendship he
renounced when he took holy orders.

I hear that you are going to have the Master (_le Maitre_) to dine
at your house. I beg of you to see that he does not sit in a
draught of air, or that the cigar he will smoke will not be too
strong, and the coffee he drinks will be weak, for he cannot sleep
after, and please see that he is brought safely to his apartment.

Yours, etc., etc.

* * * * *

All these instructions were carried out to the letter. On another
occasion Liszt wrote to me that he would bring some of his songs to try
over at five o'clock. I inclose his letter. What a chance, thought I,
for me to give pleasure to some of my friends who I knew were longing
to see him. Although he had said _entre nous_ in his letter, and I knew
that he really wanted to look through the songs alone with me, I could
not resist the temptation--though it was such