Monday, January 15:
More massage for R., and afterward unpleasant feelings arising from a letter to me from Countess La Tour; we feel, R. and I, that even she did not really understand her friend. For the first time in many days we go for a walk; I go into Saint Mark's while R. does some shopping, then we meet at Lavena's.
At lunch we resume our familiar conversations — today, for example, about Italian church music, and we seek to explain why my father has entirely lost his appreciation for it. R. recalls the fine impression Leo's Miserere made on him in Naples, and he deplores the simplicity — of a completely different kind — of church compositions today.
In the afternoon we take a second walk to the Square. I call on Princess H. with Lusch; we miss each other and do not arrive home until 8 o'clock. R. is worried and therefore justifiably cross with us; my sincere apologies pacify him, but unfortunately Lusch takes a lightheartedly defiant attitude, which causes me great concern. Then there is talk of the family, of the discovery. I ask what that is, and R. plays a pompous, funereal intrada. This performance inevitably arouses hearty laughter.
In the evening our conversation primarily concerns fame, whether it is desirable; friend Jouk. observes that it gives people absolute freedom, but R. and I cannot bring ourselves to see any great value in it. Then we talk about my father — what his real inner feelings may be. R. says he cannot understand why, when he got to know my brother, he did not give up everything in order to live with him. Much talk about my brother and my sister. (Today R. read friend Wolzogen's lecture and was very pleased with it.)