Sunday, March 19:
I have made the difficult decision to change our doctor, since Dr. Seuther has now prescribed the eighth bottle of medicine and nothing has resulted except stomach upsets. Lulu still ill. Fidi bothered by his teeth, but cheerful, "my life insurance company for both past and future," R. calls him.
Letter from my mother; she is arriving on Thursday.
Quartets again at last; our three people arrive from Zurich and play with Richter the A minor, which affects us deeply. Then Op. 95 and 74, somewhat "cold" music, as R. says, with wonderful passages. R. thinks that, at the time when his great reputation brought him many commissions, Beethoven fetched out earlier works, altered them slightly, and then published them.
Arrival of Lenbach's sketch, Eva! R. does not recognize her, but I do.
While listening to music I realize ever more profoundly how much I love R.; life seems to me like a separation, I wish to die, in order to be eternally undivided! We take refuge, R. and I, in my room; I tell him of my feelings, he calls me his youth and his soul.
Fidi, "the rainbow." Marie Bassenheim was with the children; she makes a distressing impression on us all.