Tuesday, May 18:
R. tells me I am like the gazelle which brought the Indian hermit back to life! He says he would otherwise have been completely finished. The two youngest have their first piano and singing lessons. After lunch an outing; following that a letter to me from Herr Schroetter, saying that his decision is final. I am assailed by deep melancholy. The three children cheer R. up, play with his cap, do all sorts of absurd things; we do not have the lamps lit, after a passing thunderstorm the moon and the last glimmers of daylight shine down on us; R. and I reflective after the children have gone. Silence!