Tuesday, January 30:
So Loldi is somewhat better; I stay with her the whole day. Then toward evening I went to town to inquire about dancing lessons for the children. Melancholy mood; one does not belong here, but where in this life does one belong? Feelings of being a stranger all over the world! Telegram from R. in Weimar: he is well, traveling to Bayreuth tomorrow. I write to him in the evening. Vexation over this dry correspondence by telegram.
(A week ago I was touched to read of the death of Msgr. Bucquet, my first father confessor; the best priest there can ever have been and the friend of my childhood; he also knew Daniel and Blandine and was very dear to all three of us.) In the night a curious knocking again.