Sunday, September 1:
Having been depressed by R.’s mood, I have to reproach myself severely for not being able to respond at once to his cheerfulness today, thereby causing him sorrow; but soon everything between us was again what it always is and must be, and, after having breakfast in the summerhouse, we drive out to the Fantaisie, where we have lunch. The somewhat raw day and delay over the meal prevent our carrying out our plan of going to the Waldhütte, and we return straight home, to spend the evening in conversation with our dear Malwida, with whom we feel more at ease and in tune than with anybody else in the world.