Monday, September 12:
Letters from C. Mendès, very elegiac, he thinks of dying beneath the walls of Paris; from Dr. Pusinelli, whose brother, after doing business with shipping firms in Le Havre for 30 years, has now been expelled with his ten children and has to seek a new occupation. (Claire’s cook was also expecting to be expelled!) R. revises his Beethoven and writes in strong terms to Catulle, always reiterating: You got what you deserved. C. sent a Proclamation to the Germans by V[ictor] Hugo—what utter nonsense the French now find good!
Visit from Countess B.; owing to R.’s kind persuasions I am now sufficiently calm to receive her, and when we begin to talk of the tableaux vivants I say to her, “I did not send my children to you, firstly, because I could not be present, and secondly, because I feared my father would be surprised to hear that in the first little occasion in which they were called on to show themselves they were accorded no more favorable roles than those of beggar maids.” We then slid away from the subject.
Very nice letter from Councilor Hagenbuch, congratulating us. At something I say to R., he replies to me: “You must just be healthy and not have saintly ideas, for I want to enjoy my happiness down to the last drop.” In the evening conclusion of Henry IV. Before that read fairy tales with the children.