I remember another similar though far less boisterous feast, on the occasion of a visit paid us by the famous violinist Vieux-temps, an old schoolfellow of Kietz’s.  We had the great pleasure of hearing the young virtuoso, who was then greatly feted in Paris, play to us charmingly for a whole evening—­a performance which lent my little salon an unusual touch of ‘fashion.’  Kietz rewarded him for his kindness by carrying him on his shoulders to his hotel close by.

We were hard hit in the early part of this year by a mistake I made owing to my ignorance of Paris customs.  It seemed to us quite a matter of course that we should wait until the proper quarter-day to give notice to our landlady.  So I called on the proprietress of the house, a rich young widow living in one of her own houses in the Marias quarter.  She received me, but seemed much embarrassed, and said she would speak to her agent about the matter, and eventually referred me to him.  The next day I was informed by letter that my notice would have been valid had it been given two days earlier.  By this omission I had rendered myself liable, according to the agreement, for another year’s rent.  Horrified by this news, I went to see the agent himself, and after having been kept waiting for a long time—­as a matter of fact they would not let me in at all—­I found an elderly gentleman, apparently crippled by some very painful malady, lying motionless before me.  I frankly told him my position, and begged him most earnestly to release me from my agreement, but I was merely told that the fault was mine, and not his, that I had given notice a day too late, and consequently that I must find the rent for the next year.  My concierge, to whom, with some emotion, I related the story of this occurrence, tried to soothe me by saying:  ’J’aurais pu vous dire cela, car voyez, monsieur, cet homme ne vaut pas l’eau qu’il boit.’

This entirely unforeseen misfortune destroyed our last hopes of getting out of our disastrous position.  We consoled ourselves for awhile with the hope of finding another lodger, but the fates were once more against us.  Easter came, the new term began, and our prospects were as hopeless as ever.  At last our concierge recommended us to a family who were willing to take the whole of our apartment, furniture included, off our hands for a few months.  We gladly accepted this offer; for, at any rate, it ensured the payment of the rent for the ensuing quarter.  We thought if only we could get away from this unfortunate place we should find some way of getting rid of it altogether.  We therefore decided to find a cheap summer residence for ourselves in the outskirts of Paris.