[…] when I was asked to play, I naturally began with the “Rondo Scherzando.” I wasn’t often nervous when I was asked to play in drawing-rooms, though I always hated having to perform a solo in public, in fact, I have always disliked public appearances, and the concerts I used sometimes to give myself always weighed on my mind like so many tons of lead till they were things of the past ! But on this occasion I felt a little excited, as if I were being put through my paces, for I realised that I must do my very best to live up to the musical reputation on which dear Mary Wakefield had almost risked her own. Her kind eyes shone with satisfaction as I played the last bars (the bars that sounded like a wink !) for she saw Mr. Lyttelton making his way up to the piano, evidently with the intention, to judge by the expression on his face, of making friends. And so he did. He beamed on me with that nice smile of his, and said something that put me very much at my ease.

“Do tell me,” he said quite eagerly, “who is the composer of that charming Rondo. I don’t remember having ever heard it before.”