Wednesday, May 31:
The remarkable feature of our life recurs today: I notice that Loldi has many fair hairs on her cheeks, and this occupies my thoughts in the evening; in the morning R. tells me he dreamed that Fidi had whiskers on his cheeks! The weather is sultry and overcast in spite of the thunderstorm. R. is much vexed by a rude answer from our manservant; he comes to tell me about it, but when he arrives, the chambermaid is doing my hair, and this prevents him; then, when I go to look for him, I cannot find him. At last I discover he is in the middle of a chest spasm, and he asks me to have lunch with our guests without him. But by the end of the meal he seems to have recovered.
In the afternoon we go for a walk in the palace gardens, but the gray skies, the sudden timidity of the swans, and above all some very stupid military music do nothing to raise our spirits. A visit from Dr. Schemann and Wolzogen tends to upset R. somewhat; he comes back to Cherubini and says that there should be much more criticism: “You bury your noses so much in books, while everywhere there are things waiting to be attacked. Military music, for example - am I to put up with my son or someone like Stein having to march to this ... music? Conservatories, concert promoters - all these should be dealt with; instead of this we churn out God knows what.”
In the evening, however, he is very tired, and when our Count leaves early, feeling worn out, R. also goes off to bed. (He told me recently that the government is issuing a law against vivisection.)