The reputation of the family had preceded them, and greatly to their advantage, for the nobility of Vienna were enthusiastically interested in them. They received almost daily invitations to entertainments, where Wolfgang’s extraordinary skill created the utmost astonishment. Count Palssy, in particular, who had heard Wolfgang play in Linz, and Countess Sinzendorf took them under their protection, introduced them to the homes of the best families, and at last procured the special invitation to Court which Father Mozart had so long hoped and waited for. Wolfgang himself was still too little and childish to appreciate the high honor paid him. He was simply pleased at the opportunity he would have to see the splendors of the Court. As to the playing, he relied upon his skill and courage, which had never yet failed him. Presentation day came. At three o’clock in the afternoon the royal equipage was at the door, and Baron von Stauffen, his Majesty’s private treasurer, invited the family to take seats in the elegant state coach. Little Mozart’s heart beat more quickly as he rode through the streets of the Court quarter. A few minutes later he was in the ante-chamber of her Majesty the Empress, waiting the moment which should reveal to him all the glories of her Court. That moment quickly came. The folding doors of the music hall were thrown open. Her Majesty’s first gentleman in waiting beckoned to the family to come forward, and a moment later they were in the presence of the renowned Empress, Maria Theresa, and her noble consort, Francis the First, the royal household standing in the background. Wolfgang had never seen such splendor before. He was in a rich and brilliantly decorated hall, with silken tapestries, tall mirrors in glistening gold frames, heavy silken curtains, and polished inlaid floor. In a chair a little above the rest, over which glistened a golden crown, sat a majestic woman—the Empress. At her side stood the princes and princesses, and a little farther on the Emperor, leaning against a beautiful piano. Wolfgang cast hardly more than a fleeting glance at the splendor all about him. His gaze was fixed upon the Empress, whom he regarded for some time with childish love and reverence. The little archduchess, Marie Antoinette, afterwards the unhappy spouse of Louis the Sixteenth of France, with her beautiful curly head resting upon her mother’s arm, watched Wolfgang with curious eyes. After a little the Emperor advanced to Wolfgang and led him to the Empress, who outstretched both hands with true maternal tenderness, and greeted him with a gracious smile. Although forty-five years of age at this time, she was still a very beautiful woman, and one whose fascinating manners could not help making a deep impression upon the susceptible young artist. “And so you are the little piano-player of whom we have heard so much,” said she.