I now set about paying my farewell calls, one of which was on Fraulein von Rhaden, who distinguished herself by the warmth of her sympathy and interest.  By way of compensating me for the loss of the receipts I had reckoned upon, the Grand Duchess sent me through this lady the sum of one thousand roubles, coupled with a promise that, until my circumstances improved, she would repeat the gift annually.  On discovering this friendly interest, I could not help regretting that the connection thus formed was not likely to have more stable and profitable results.  I addressed a petition through Fraulein von Rhaden to the Grand Duchess, praying that she would permit me to come to St. Petersburg for a few months every year, to place my talents at her disposal, both for concerts and theatrical performances, in return for which she would only have to pay me a suitable yearly salary.  To this I received an evasive reply.  On the day before my departure I informed my amiable guardian of my plan for settling at Biebrich, and in doing so I made no secret of my fear that after spending the money I had earned here in carrying out my building plan, my condition might be very much the same as of yore, a fear which made me wonder whether it would not be better to abandon it altogether.  Whereupon I received the spirited reply:  ’Build and hope!’ At the last moment before starting I gratefully answered her in the same manner, and said that I now knew what to do.  Thus at the end of April I departed, carrying with me the hearty good wishes of Seroff and the enthusiastic members of the orchestra, and steamed away across the Russian wilderness without calling at Riga, where I had been invited to give a concert.  The long and weary road brought me at last to the frontier station of Wirballen, where I received a telegram from Fraulein von Rhaden:  ‘Not too rash.’  This was in reference to a few lines I had left behind for her, and it conveyed quite enough to revive my doubts as to the wisdom of carrying out my house-building plans.

I reached Berlin without further delay, and at once made for Bulow’s house.  During the last few months I had heard no news of Cosima’s condition, and it was, therefore, with some trepidation that I stood at the door, through which the maid did not seem disposed to let me pass, saying that ‘her mistress was not well.’  ‘Is she seriously ill?’ I asked, and receiving a smilingly evasive reply, at once realised to my joy the true situation, and hastened in to greet Cosima.  She had been some time delivered of her daughter Blandine, and was now on the highroad to complete recovery.  It was only from casual callers that she remained secluded.  Everything seemed well, and Hans was quite gay, the more so that he now thought me freed from all care for some time to come, owing to the success of my Russian trip.  But I could not regard this assumption as justified, unless my wish to be invited for some months every year to St. Petersburg