Monday, August 5:
R. had a good night, and Fidi is somewhat better. R. reads the proofs of his article. Friend Klindworth pays us a visit; he brings with him the good news that Hans is looking and feeling very much better. A merry meal, reminiscences exchanged between R. and Klindworth about Manchester Street, where Kl. was living in London. Five students from Leipzig come to pay homage, and Baron Seydlitz wishes us a fateful turn in our affairs!
Drive to Emtmannsberg; the road too bad and too long, we turn back and have our picnic in the summerhouse, to the great amusement of the children. [When something is said about the assassination attempt, R. tells a lady that the Emperor, in order to do Bismarck a favor, shot himself, so that B. could then take measures against the Liberals.]
Later on R., Kl., and I begin to talk about Hans; R. still remembers those letters to Senff and is surprised that no one bears him a grudge for them. When he mentions my father, and I reply that the reason for this is probably that my father owes him a debt of gratitude, R. misunderstands my remark and becomes bitter, thinking I am referring to our own position. When we are alone, I explain that I meant this in an artistic sense; R. at once understands and, in order to account for his annoyance, says that always, when someone comes between us, it brings on a sort of paroxysm inside him.