Father Mozart was happy that the event ended so well, and Wolfgang, perfectly contented, chatted again with the archduchesses until the family were kindly dismissed. They returned to their hotel, happy over the generosity of the good Empress, and loud in their praises of the powerful sovereign who had shown them such generosity and affection. Chapter V The Second Violin Overloaded with attentions, honors, and distinctions, the Mozart family returned to Salzburg for a time and resumed the old quiet life. The journey to Vienna had been advantageous in many ways. Father Mozart brought back quite a little sum of gold; but of still greater value was the reputation which Wolfgang had so quickly acquired. His talent had been surprising from his infancy, and now his first introduction into the great world was in every way a success. His fame as a rising star of the first magnitude in the musical firmament was already beginning to spread all over Europe. Wolfgang, young as he was, appreciated this, and it was a spur that urged him to attempt the highest artistic achievements. After the Vienna journey nothing but music had any attraction for him. He practised almost incessantly. The customary amusements of childhood no longer interested him. He was absorbed in a dominating passion—the passion of music. It was noticeable, as well as curious, that Wolfgang in his earlier years, notwithstanding his love for music, had an irresistible aversion to the sound of metallic instruments, and particularly to the shrill tone of the trumpet. He revelled in the music of string instruments and the piano, like a butterfly among fragrant flowers, but the loud noise of trumpets and trombones seemed to scare him, and cause him actual pain. His father, of course, soon noticed this, and it caused him great anxiety. How could his son conduct great musical performances, in which the brasses were indispensable, if he did not succeed in overcoming this aversion? Remonstrance and reasoning alike were of no avail. As soon as he heard a trumpet, even in the distance, he would either run out of hearing or stop both his ears. His father decided to adopt vigorous measures, and one day asked a trumpeter to his room.[16] “Come here, Wolfgangerl, and be sensible,” he said to his son, who was looking at the dreadful trumpet with a shudder, and was about to take to his heels as usual. “You must stop this nonsense. You must get used to the trumpet or you never can be a chapelmaster.” “I cannot do it, papa, I cannot do it,” replied Wolfgang. “Please, father, send the trumpeter away.”