My amiable papa, I am once more obliged to postpone the pleasure of coming to have lunch with you tomorrow, for reasons that I will tell you tonight. I hope that you will not bear a grudge, and deprive me of the contentment that I always feel when I spend a few hours with you, because I find it impossible to go and see you tomorrow. On Sunday I will make up for what I lose tomorrow; and tonight my papa will come to have tea with me, and to console me for still being a little unwell, and to beat me at a game of chess, and to listen to a few carols … and, if he is still moved by it, to listen to the declaration that no one in the world loves him more than I.