Then, behold me once more safe at the Villa Medici, welcomed by the director and my comrades, who most kindly and tactfully hid their curiosity concerning my crazy journey. I had gone off having good reason to go; I had come back--so much the better. No remarks, no questions. _To_ GOUNET, HILLER, ETC. “_6th May 1831._--I have made acquaintance with Mendelssohn; Monfort knew him before. “He is a charming fellow; his execution is as perfect as his genius, and that is saying a good deal. All I have heard of his is splendid, and I believe him to be one of the great musicians of his time. “He has been my cicerone. Every morning I hunt him up; he plays me Beethoven; we sing _Armida_; then he takes me to see ruins that, I must candidly own, do not impress me much. His is one of those clear pure souls one does not often come across; he believes firmly in his Lutheran creed, and I am afraid I shocked him terribly by laughing at the Bible. “I have to thank him for the only pleasant moments I had during the anxious days of my first stay in Rome. “You may imagine what I felt like when I received that astonishing letter from Madame Moke announcing her daughter’s marriage. She calmly said that she never agreed to our engagement, and begs me, dear kind creature! not to kill myself. “Hiller knows the whole story, and how I left Paris with her ring upon my finger, given in exchange for mine. However, I am quite recovered and can eat as usual. I am saved, they are saved! I threw myself into the arms of music, and felt how blessed it is to have friends. “I am working hard at _King Lear_. “Write to me, each of you, a particular and separate and individual letter.” _To_ F. HILLER. “Has Mendelssohn arrived yet? His talent is wonderful, extraordinary, sublime. You need not suspect me of partiality in saying this, for he frankly owns that he cannot in the least understand my [Illustration: THE VILLA MEDICI, ROME] music. Greet him for me; he does not think so, but I truly like him thoroughly.” XIX IN THE MOUNTAINS I quickly fell into the Academy routine. A bell called us to meals, and we went as we were--with straw hats, blouses plastered with clay, slippered feet, no ties--in fact, in studio undress. After breakfast we lounged about the garden at quoits, tennis, target practice, shooting the misguided blackbirds who came within range, or trained our puppies; in all of which amusements M. Horace often joined us.