deadly embarrassment.  I discovered afterwards through Bulow that in some youthful squabble he had had the word ‘Baboon-face’ hurled at him.  It soon became impossible to hide the fact that Ritter felt himself grossly insulted by ‘the doctor,’ as he called him, and he left my house foaming with rage, not to set foot in it again for years.  After a few days I received a letter in which he demanded, first, a complete apology from Liszt, as soon as he came to see me again, and if this were unobtainable, Liszt’s exclusion from my house.  It distressed me greatly to receive, soon after this, a letter from Ritter’s mother, whom I respected very much, reproaching me for my unjust treatment of her son in not having obtained satisfaction for an insult offered him in my house.  For a long time my relations with this family, intimate as they had been, were painfully strained, as I found it impossible to make them see the incident in the right light.  When Liszt, after a time, heard of it, he regretted the disturbance too, and with praise-worthy magnanimity made the first advance towards a reconciliation by paying Ritter a friendly visit.  There was nothing said about the incident, and Ritter’s return visit was made, not to Liszt, but to the Princess, who had arrived in the meantime.  After this Liszt decided that he could do nothing further; Ritter, therefore, withdrew from our society from this time forward, and changed his winter quarters from Zurich to Lausanne, where he settled permanently.

Not only my own modest residence, but the whole of Zurich seemed full of life when Princess Caroline and her daughter took up their abode at the Hotel Baur for a time.  The curious spell of excitement which this lady immediately threw over every one she succeeded in drawing into her circle amounted, in the case of my good sister Clara (who was still with us at the time), almost to intoxication.  It was as if Zurich had suddenly become a metropolis.  Carriages drove hither and thither, footmen ushered one in and out, dinners and suppers poured in upon us, and we found ourselves suddenly surrounded by an increasing number of interesting people, whose existence at Zurich we had never even suspected, though they now undoubtedly cropped up everywhere.  A musician named Winterberger, who felt it incumbent on him on certain occasions to behave eccentrically, had been brought there by Liszt; Kirchner, the Schumann enthusiast from Winterthur, was practically always there, attracted by the new life, and he too did not fail to play the wag.  But it was principally the professors of Zurich University whom Princess Caroline coaxed out of their hole-and-corner Zurich habits.  She would have them, one at a time, for herself, and again serve them up en masse for us.  If I looked in for a moment from my regular midday walk, the lady would be dining alone, now with Semper, now with Professor Kochly, then with Moleschott, and so on.  Even my very peculiar friend Sulzer was drawn in, and,