February 26th, 1840.
After I had been waiting eagerly for a letter from Bertha, I finally could no longer resist visiting her. Since yesterday evening I had felt a joyful hope that I would not lose her, and this accompanied me all the way to Klemzig. Unfortunately I only found Mathilde at home and Bertha busy with the laundry, but she came in, drank coffee with me and stayed longer than I had hoped. Her father had gone to New Silesia, so we had a good opportunity to talk undisturbed. She maintained that she had not yet recognized God's will, nor did she feel any love, but her behavior was friendly and overall such that it gave me hope for anything. Her main complaint about my letter was that at the end I asked her to ask for my death, but she didn't want us to destroy it. She had written me a letter on Monday asking for 14 days to think about it, but she didn't want to show it to me. ( 250 ) I couldn't get her to kiss me or say "you", but I think she would have sat on my lap if she had had the time and not been embarrassed.

By the way, we spoke to each other very seriously and in a Christian way, and agreed to pray very diligently that, if it was God's will, he would give her this conviction and give her the old love. The past, Bertha said, was like a dream to her. My news that Pastor Kavel said that he had never considered our relationship to be God's will more than now, that he wanted to write to Fiedler about me and that we were both reunited in a brotherly manner, seemed to have contributed not a little to this turn of events, which was almost unexpected to me. When Bertha asked why God had brought about this disturbance, I answered my heart's conviction in order to draw us, especially myself, back to himself and unite with my fellow believers. It seemed to me that she approved of this.

I spent a large part of the afternoon with Fritz Kavel. As I was walking through the house, I unexpectedly saw Bertha again. I showed her the poem: “Männerthränen”(203), which she found quite nice, but wanted to keep for another time. It didn't happen that I wrote something on the paper to her, and so it stayed there. We parted amicably, but not as lovers; it hurt;

You alone, faithful God and Father! You will certainly change the situation soon, I hope so to you. Do it soon. Amen.

( 251 ) February 29th, 1840.
Bertha, through her sister Mathilde, sent me some stockings and nine pounds of money from her father instead of bringing it herself.

March 1st, 1840. Sunday.
Driven by restlessness, I went back to Klemzig. Bertha offered me a cup of coffee while Julius Fiedler and Ferdinand Kavel were there, but then walked away so that I couldn't say a word to her. I spoke to Mathilde several times and asked her what first and actually motivated Bertha to turn away from me? She didn't want to say it; Bertha also said that she couldn't tell me, she would rather write it to me; Therefore