Thursday, March 9:
To have lunch today at Camastra or not, that is our little question in the morning; we decide that we will. A telegram from Herr Neumann, asking for the curtain, embarrasses him, but he lends it to him. Today the tent is once more put up on the terrace, and we enjoy breakfast there in cheerful spirits. But around lunchtime R. breaks out in a fury over the shooting practice on the parade ground; he fears it will go on and on.
Yesterday he gave our host to understand in almost unmistakable words that he does not like the house and its situation, and he even said that the bedroom was responsible for S.’s illness. Since we are here dealing with a very well-meant act of kindness, it pains me to think that our departure might take place in a spirit of vexation. When R. goes downstairs to recall a theme, he meets Rub., and that disturbs and vexes him even further. We get into the carriage and drive off; R. notices my sorrowful expression. I tell him what has made me sad. At first that arouses his anger: in Camastra he goes off alone to the left, I with the children to the right, but when we meet, we unite, and have a good and merry meal!
Afterward R. takes a long rest in the sitting room, and the outing to Piana dei Greci, which R. arranged with the Count yesterday, is fixed, much to my concern. A letter to R. from Jouk. contains a favorable report on the costumes. But Camastra gave R. genuine pleasure; he wants to come here often. Indeed, he asked the Count to build something for him at the entrance to the villa, saying he would pay the rent on it. He tells me that, if anyone were to offer him the choice between 3 years of complete rest in a comfortable home in a good climate, with no obligations to see or hear anything, or 12 years as now, he would certainly choose the 3 years. He adds with a laugh that one would then be glad to die out of boredom!
He tells me much about A. Dumas’s bragging: he seems in his own estimation to have done everything for Sicily. After I paid some calls, I went to fetch R., who had again gone to Camastra. [Here I have made a mistake: the dinner at Camastra was on Friday; today we just went for a walk there and enjoyed ourselves so much that in the afternoon R. took himself off there again.] In the evening he reads a scene from [Goethe’s] Clavigo and is pleased with the vividness of its description.