Tuesday, January 9:
R. slept well, but he is in a disturbed state of mind, and I must feel glad that our friend stays away! Everything upsets him. He has a spasm in the morning and at lunch is all but silent. He starts a letter to the King.
In the afternoon he goes out; I wait in the antechamber to greet him, but he is in an ill-humour, and in the evening this turns into anger. My father's manners and customs, the whist table, the constriction of our living space, all the disturbance arising from his visit — this makes him furious, and long, long after it is past he gives way to his anger, which I can only assuage by suffering with him in silence!
As a curiosity I might note down that R. considers the black eyes and hair of our friend to be unwomanly.