My Mother--Her Musical Friends--I Study with Masset--His Generous Offer--Litolff's Visit--My Mother's Musicales Develop into a Conservatoire--Rubinstein's Anger--His Refusal to Play for the Grand Duchess Helen--The Idols of the Musical World--A Friendly Jealousy--My Stratagem with Liszt--Glazounoff's Kindness--The Musicless Our great poets Pouschkin and Lermontoff admired my mother's beauty; Yazikoff also wrote a lovely poem in which he says that The ancient Greeks would have delighted To kneel and worship at your feet, To build you shrines of snowy marble, Where clouds of fragrant incense sweet, From golden altars night and morning, Would rise your image fair to greet. But my mother was not merely beautiful, she was also exceedingly kind and very artistic. The great musician and pianist Thalberg dedicated to her one of his lovely nocturnes, and I afterwards inherited Liszt's kindness for her memory. In the year 1860 my mother used to invite to our house every Thursday first-rate musicians like Nicolas Rubinstein (as fine a pianist as his brother Anton), eminent violinists like Laub and Wieniawski, the 'cellist Cossman, and other celebrated instrumentalists, {139} from whom we heard, with greatest enjoyment, examples of the finest classical music, which lasted from eight to ten. At ten the young people were allowed to dance, and I am ashamed to say that my young friends much preferred the second part of the evening to the first! [Illustration: NICOLAS RUBINSTEIN, ANTON RUBINSTEIN] A year or two after my marriage, having (as mentioned in a previous chapter) been ordered by my parents-in-law to accompany them to Paris, I duly obeyed, and I think I may say that my life there was unique. From ten in the morning till ten in the evening, I almost invariably stayed with the old people, sitting with them in the Bois, or laying a "Patience" (the only one I know) at home. I gained, however, one great benefit. I managed to take daily singing lessons at the Conservatoire at half-past eight in the morning, from the celebrated Masset, who took great interest in my progress. But at last my time was over, for I had to rejoin my husband and my boy in Petrograd. When I told Professor Masset that I was taking my last lesson, he seemed greatly surprised. "Oh!" he said, "I guess why you are stopping your lessons. But you are wrong. I will give you lessons gratis for two years, on condition that you make your debut in Grand Opera. One reason why I ask high fees is in order not to be besieged by too many pupils." "Well," said I, "of course twenty-five francs per lesson is a large sum for daily lessons, but that is not my reason. I am unfortunately obliged to interrupt my studies for another reason, my husband wants me to return home." {140} The Professor looked perfectly horrified. "Your husband! Are you then married?" he exclaimed. "Yes, I am," I answered, "and I have a son."