wretched,” she said. “It barely pays for wood. For all the years my husband served the Elector, should I have only this to show for it? My boarders barely pay for the house rental with all the food they eat—the veal, the bread! The assistance from my Aloysia is often late and less than promised, and there’s not so much as a letter from Josefa, much less any money. My heart breaks that I should have to depend on these heartless girls when I have always wanted only the best for them.”
Thorwart nodded solemnly. “We’ve both tried our best. Still, my dear Maria Caecilia, I have only one child. God has given you two more daughters.”
“Yes, and I need to have them married and provided for. I wouldn’t want them to have to earn their bread, but I have no idea how to proceed with Sophie.”
Thorwart poured more coffee—hot, creamy, and smelling of cinnamon. They leaned their heads closer together to hear each other over the chattering from other tables and the soaring of the chamber trio. “Our little Sophie,” he mused, his wide finger near his lips. “Yes, how do we proceed with that girl? She has no fortune, no dowry, and, most unfortunately, no figure. (I can’t quite understand how a daughter of yours can have no figure, Caecilia!) You can’t encourage her to wear padding for hips and bosom as many do these days? Then what can be done for her?”
He cleared a little space before him, his wide face taking on the serious expression she had seen him wear in his office in the opera house. “But the problem of Constanze must be managed as well. She may not marry this French cellist, or he may not marry her. I know from his banker, who receives his letters of credit from Paris, that the young man’s family expects him to marry a French girl.”
“Then theirs is just a playful romance, even though she wears his ring! What a cruel world, my friend! Is there no justice?” Maria Caecilia cried. She thought of the little book with the tooled-leather cover decorated with flowers that she now kept in her bedroom drawer and into which she continued to write names of possible suitors for her younger girls. She had actually crossed out all the other names on Constanze’s list but for this Frenchman.
Thorwart laid his hand over hers. “Still, I understand he will not be leaving for a time, so that leaves us some leisure to consider the problem. We will find someone truly splendid for our sweet Constanze, but it is Sophie whom we must manage at once, for I fear she’s near danger.”
“Sophie near danger?” came Maria Caecilia’s whisper. “Can it be?”
“I am very much afraid of it. Recall: wasn’t your closest friend in Zell years ago much like her, plain and flat as a board? And yet, did that stop her from a loss of virtue? I remember the sorrow around the courtyard, for when her mother looked the other way, the girl was on her back with her skirts up! There was wailing at the common pump. The thought’s heavy with me: it will be the butcher’s boy, or one of the boarders, or even one of the priests for your little one; yes, they’re not above those things. It might even be, the saints forbid it, a family friend.”
Now he pushed aside his empty plate and leaned forward in a businesslike way. He gazed at the tabletop, as if studying some important papers before him. Looking up at Maria Caecilia, he said, “You’ve asked my advice, and I’ll give it. We can find a good marriage for Constanze, if you give me time to do it. I know many more people now in my new position at the opera, but Sophie you must marry at once to an honorable man, one who will support you in your older years. I know of one such man.”
“Who could you mean, my friend?”
“The answer’s under your nose.” He sat back expansively, fingers in his waistcoat pockets. “Your lodger, young Mozart.”
Maria Caecilia was speechless for a moment. “But he has no money.”
“He has little now, but I have it on good authority that his fortunes may soon change. Allow me,” and he poured more coffee, adding extra cinnamon from a small silver container, and some small coarsely ground bits of sugar, stirring and stirring the silver spoon in the cup. He stirred more slowly and suddenly drew