Friday, February 3:
A restful night for R.; for all of us somewhat wild and frosty; mine was split up into various acts. Luckily the sun is shining, but it is very cold! R. drives into town to pick out carpets while we arrange the furniture. The children go off at once on a walk. Our lunch is a cozy one; we drink to Lusch's health; R. does it first in German, solemnly welcoming her return, then Fidi in Sicilian dialect!
After lunch R. takes a long rest, but on waking he feels very hot, and the simultaneous arrival of paper hangers, piano tuner, and Count Tasca upsets him greatly. The Count himself is anxious when he learns that the girls have gone off to the left for a walk without being accompanied, and, after sending the facchino [carrier] away, he sets out on foot to meet them. Once R. has calmed down, we also drive toward them, meeting the Count first and then the children, accompanied by Antonio with a powerful shotgun on his back! Much amusement. We divide ourselves between the two carriages and then drive through the enchanting countryside via Madonna della Grazia, returning home through the town.
The evening passes very harmoniously; R. enlarges upon the German language, regretting the loss of so many of its forms. Then he goes on to Herr Turk about the foolishness of philologists, who devote all their energies to establishing the purity of the text and do not bother at all about its spirit. Despite the unfamiliar surroundings our mood is a very good one; I feel as if I have just arrived in Transvaal or been born here! And R. shares my feelings; he also talked about Kant's theory of earthquakes and described it to us, and, after drawing our attention before supper to the magnificent rising moon, he takes me onto his terrace in the evening to admire the splendid moonlight.