As regards the prelude to the Meistersinger, its successful performance affected the few friends who formed the audience so favourably that we had to repeat it there and then—­to the satisfaction even of the orchestra.  Indeed, their artificially nurtured distrust of me, which had been like a coating of ice, now seemed to have melted, for when I brought the concert to a close with the Tannhauser Overture the orchestra celebrated my recall with a tremendous flourish of instruments.  This delighted my sister Ottilie beyond measure, as she maintained that such an honour had never been accorded before except to Jenny Lind.  My friend Weisheimer, who had really tired every one’s patience in the most inconsiderate way, afterwards developed a feeling of dissatisfaction towards me which dated from this period.  He felt bound to confess to himself that he would have done much better without my brilliant orchestral pieces, in which case he might have offered the public a concert at a cheaper rate, consisting exclusively of his own works.  As it was, he had to bear the costs—­to his father’s great disappointment—­and also to overcome the unnecessary humiliation of being unable to give me any profits.

My brother-in-law was not to be deterred by these painful impressions from carrying out the household festivities, which had been arranged beforehand in celebration of my expected triumphs.  The Bulows were also invited to one of the banquets, and there was an evening party at which I read the Meistersinger to an imposing array of professors, and met with much appreciation.  I renewed my acquaintance with Professor Weiss, too, who interested me very much, for I remembered him from my young days as a friend of my uncle’s.  He expressed himself as particularly surprised by my skill in reading aloud.

The Bulows had now unfortunately returned to Berlin.  We had met once more on a very cold day in the street (under unpleasant conditions, for they were paying duty calls), but the general depression which had settled on us seemed more noticeable, during our short leave-taking, than the fleeting good-humour of the last few days.  My friends were well aware of the terrible and utterly forlorn condition in which I found myself.  I had been idiotic enough to count on the proceeds from the Leipzig concert to provide at least the needs of the moment, and I was, in the first place, put into the awkward position of being unable to pay my landlord punctually (the house rent at Biebrich being now due).  But I was ready to stake everything on keeping this asylum for another year, and I had to deal with an obstinate, bad-tempered creature whom I thought it necessary to pay in advance for the sake of securing the place.  As I had just then to supply Minna with her quarterly allowance also, the money which Regierungsrath Muller forwarded to me from the Grand Duke seemed, indeed, a heaven-sent windfall.  For after giving up Schott entirely I had, in my distress, turned to this old