Wednesday, March 9:
“I not only love you, but live you,” R. tells me this morning. “When you are in the least upset or worried, I am as lame as a bird with a broken wing.” Great joy in Fidi, who is only too innocent and too good! At midday R. is very unwell, yesterday’s letter is still annoying him. He stays at home, I go to Countess Bassenheim’s with Loulou (lesson), there I learn that her relatives in Vienna have written to her enthusiastically about Die Meistersinger. Letter from Eckert—the minister’s wife, Frau von Schleinitz, is keeping a dedicated eye on the rehearsals of Die Meistersinger.