Thursday, April 1:
Joyfully I greet April, which enters in bright sunshine, for R. had a good night; he jokes with the children and laughs at me when I tearfully beg him to be patient with life.
He dictates to me our second meeting in Berlin. “We were like children.” Then he deplores the unavoidable artificiality of his letters to the King, though “It was he who brought us together.” He is so well that he is able to talk with Jenkins about his thoughts of emigrating. The two of us go for a walk in the garden; he is delighted with the many flowers in bloom.
In the evening a visit from the Liechtensteins, whom R. invites to spend the night with us. Much merry chat. (Of Frau Hedwig R. says, “She has eyes like caviar: much glistening, but no glancing.”)