Dear Minna,
I arranged with you that you should come out to me to-day in any case, and in any case I wouldn't come in, to avoid our crossing through any uncertainty about the weather, — and you haven't come. I can't blame you for it; but please don't let us settle anything again. When one has fine weather almost all the week, I find it too absurd to make Sunday one's only day for undertaking things, when of course the weather always turns out bad. Yesterday, when it was so superb, I really believed you'd be sensible and get on the road; — whoever of the others cared to visit me, could very well have followed you to-day. — To speak candidly, I'm much put out: if you had wanted to visit me, you would have soon discovered how and when; but all you seem to care for, is a general excursion with the rest. It's different with me: I think very small beer of the others — for here at least. A meeting with X of itself never yields me good humour, for I always have to curb myself: which greatly flusters me, particularly during a cure; therefore, as it really isn't good for me, I shall not come to town again so soon. Consequently, if you want to see me, you must make up your mind for a seat in the diligence, stay the night here, and see how you can amuse yourself with me. — But I shan't expect you any more; for, I confess, this fruitless waiting upsets me very disagreeably just now. I don't even get my letters! —
Farewell, and entertain yourself well: the hearty wish of
Thy Richard.
So you are not in need of money either, as you told me?
Source: Richard to Minna Wagner: Letters to His First Wife, trans. William Ashton Ellis, Vol. 1 (H. Grevel & Co., 1909), No. 40