Sunday, February 19:
Again in Tribschen and a splendid morning, spring and Fidi there to greet us. "Dearest wife," R. exclaims to me, "the whole morning I have been thinking of you, how good and kind and lovely you are; there is nobody to compare to you." I had won this for myself with my report that I had had a good night!
Write letters for R., to Hallwachs, Wittstein, etc., also to London, since they are repeatedly asking for the exhibition march.
R. tells me that what so wears him down in others is their talking to him; that is why he tends so often to express himself at great length, solely in order to spare himself certain questions which seem to him like an attack on his very existence. What had reconciled him in his re-encounter with Frau Wesendonck was, he says, the fact that she seemed to him to be a good person who was cordially pleased to see him now in a state of happiness.
Family lunch, then walk in the garden, Tribschen bursting into bloom! In the evening R. is still very tired, and we go to bed early.