Friday, September 6:
Up at half past three, off about five. My father has breakfast with us and takes us to the railroad station; quiet farewell. I depart in sorrow. It is not the separation which pains me, but the fear of entirely losing touch.
In the train R. has an outburst of jealousy toward my father, but he is soon pacified. Glowing heat and dust, and R. gives vent to his annoyance with the railroad, which destroys all good manners. At 4 o'clock arrived in Bayreuth, joyous reunion with the children; Fidi in a mauve velvet suit. Very tired in the evening, off to bed at seven-thirty.