sce in this step because an offer had been made
by Archbishop Hieronymus to instal Wolfgang in the place of the Court
organist, who had just died, and to give him a salary of five hundred
florins, with permission to absent himself whenever he might be called
upon to conduct one of his own operas. The offer had also attached to
it the near prospect of being made full Capellmeister at the
Archbishop's Court. Leopold urged Wolfgang's acceptance, pointing out
that their joint income would in such case amount to one thousand
florins a year--a sum that would enable them to discharge their debts
and live in comparative comfort.

Mozart, it must be owned, viewed the prospect of a return to Salzburg
under the implied conditions with positive dismay, but he could not
withstand his father's appeal. He set out from Paris immediately,
promising himself only one indulgence before entering upon the bondage
which lay before him--and that was to take Mannheim on his homeward
journey. Arrived at Mannheim, however, he found that the Webers had
migrated to Munich, whither the Elector had already gone to take up
his new residence. After exchanging greetings with a few old friends,
therefore, he bent his steps to Munich, hoping to find consolation in
a brief renewal of the happy hours which had left so strong an
impression on his memory. But, alas! his disappointments found their
crown within the Webers' dwelling. The family, it is true, received
him as warmly as of old; but she to whom his glance was first directed
showed in her eyes nothing more than a friendly welcome, and Mozart
was quick to perceive that his hopes had here no abiding-place.
Aloysia was fickle, and her affection had so far waned as to be unable
to withstand even the test afforded by Mozart's change of dress. When
he appeared before her with black buttons sewn upon his red coat,
after the French fashion, to indicate that he was in mourning, she
resented the innovation; and, after a brief intercourse, in which she
plainly showed that she had forgotten him for whom her tears had
flowed some months before, they parted.

It was with a mind stored with invaluable experience, but with a heart
saddened and sore by disappointed love and ambition, that Mozart once
more entered the portal of his Salzburg home. If anything could have
cheered him at that moment and served to dispel the clouds which
seemed to obscure his future, it would have been the warmth of the
welcome bestowed