Tuesday, November 28:
R.'s night was plagued with thoughts of Voltz and Batz. And at breakfast he comes back to the previous evening. I try to explain to him that, besides wishing to keep Lusch company, my father's only thought was certainly that we ourselves might be pleased to have an evening by ourselves. But R. is quite unable to understand this. However, the little rabbit, which he then finds on his desk, amuses him. [A dedicatory poem enclosed in the diaries.]
The sun is shining brilliantly, and even his dictation to me of a letter to Holtzendorff for Voltz and Batz becomes a cheerful and stimulating task. At lunch, yesterday evening is referred to gaily, and then we chat about various subjects, such as Dr. Wille, etc. In the afternoon R. goes to Saint Mark's Square with the children; he brings the little hare to supper and shows it to the children. Before that my father played, together with Lusch, Beethoven's F Major Quartet, a work for which R. frankly expresses his dislike (also for the Scherzo); then we play whist.
Late in the evening, when we are alone, R. talks about my father's latest compositions, which he finds completely meaningless, and he expresses his opinion sharply and in much detail. I ask him to talk to my father about them in the hope of preventing his going astray, but I do not think R. will do this. I go to bed with painful feelings, and I cannot stop thinking of the letter R. might perhaps write to my father - I compose it in my mind.