In the evening they again gave me a concert.

Why was Antoinette not there?
I fancied I was at the Conservatoire.

Then we conversed, and the abbe, who never can let go his idea, said, without any reserve, to the count: "'My dear count, have you reflected?
If you go to London, we could hope to see you often; and, besides, the salary--well, as this terrible word has been spoken, listen to me; I will do all in my power to obtain conditions for you in every way worthy of your merit, your learning, your character, your position.' "He was not permitted to finish the list; the count reared like the horse in Horace, exclaiming, 'O Mozart! what a horrid subject of conversation!' Then he added, gravely: 'M.

l'Abbe, you are a thousand times too good, but the place offered to me in Vienna seems to me better adapted to my kind of ability; I would make, I fear, a detestable professor, and the salary, were it double, would in my opinion have but little weight.' "The abbe still insisted.

'In our century,' said he, 'less than any other, can one live on air.' "'I have lived on it sometimes,' replied the count, gaily, 'and I did not find it bad.