A willing listener was worth more than gold to Frau Furst and here,
the first time he came, while waiting for Franz, Maurice heard in
detail the history of the family. The father had been an oboist in the
Gewandhaus orchestra, and had died a few years previously, of a chill
incurred after a performance of DIE MEISTERSINGER. At his death, it
had fallen on Franz to support the family; and, thanks to Schwarz's
aid and influence, Franz was able to get as many pupils as he had time
to teach. It was easy to see that this, her eldest son, was the apple
of Frau Furst's eye; her other children seemed to be there only to
meet his needs; his lightest wish was law. Each additional pupil that
sought him out, was a fresh tribute to his genius, each one that left
him, no matter after how long, was unthankful and a traitor.
For the nights on which his quartet met at the house, she prepared as
another woman would for a personal fete; and she watched the candles
grow shorter without a tinge of regret. When Franz played at an
ABENDUNTERHALTUNG, the family turned out in a body. Schwarz was a god,
all-powerful, on whom their welfare depended; and it was necessary to
propitiate him by a quarterly visit on a Sunday morning, when, over
wine and biscuits, she wept real and feigned tears of gratitude.

In this hard-working, careworn woman, who was seldom to be seen but in
petticoat, bed-jacket, and heelless, felt shoes; who, her whole life
long, had been little better than a domestic servant; in her there
existed a devotion to art which had never wavered. It would have
seemed to her contrary to nature that Franz should be anything but a
musician, and it was also quite in the order of things for them to be
poor. Two younger boys, who were still at school, gave up all their
leisure time to music--they had never in their lives tumbled round a
football or swung a bat--and Franz believed that the elder would prove