Friday, January 7:
Because of R.'s playing yesterday I have been walking on clouds, though always with an anxious heart, since Lusch is still in bed and Boni unwell. To town for my money, then to Countess B., who tells me she knows the year will turn out well, since Richard visited her on the first day.
An inquiry from Mathilde Maier about R.'s illness! Replied to her at once. In the evening Tristram Shandy, pleasure alternating with dissatisfaction. Talent, but no genius.