look at the situation, and hear how I shall stand pecuniarily pending
my definite appointment, of which I know nothing at all as yet. Then I
shall see whether I can leave again shortly after the start, and
whether I am to count on staying any longer; for, although I have,
indeed, accepted, still I am not yet sufficiently familiar with the
ground to be able to say definitely whether I shall stay there or
shortly get out again. As soon as that is decided, we shall probably,
after all, have to consider for you, too, the prospect of exchanging
your quiet Reinfeld existence for the noise of the Diet's diplomacy.
You folks have often complained that nothing was made of me by those
above me; now this is, beyond my expectations and wishes, a sudden
appointment to what is at this moment the most important post in our
diplomatic service; I have not sought it; I must assume that the Lord
wished it, and I cannot withdraw, although I foresee that it will be
an unfruitful and a thorny office, in which, with the best intentions,
I shall forfeit the good opinion of many people. But it would be
cowardly to decline. I cannot give you today further particulars as to
our plans, how we shall meet, what will be done about your going to
the seashore; only I shall try to make leisure, if possible, to see
you before. I feel almost like crying when I think of this sudden
upsetting of our innocent plans, as well as of the uncertainty when I
shall see you again, my beloved heart, and the babies; and I earnestly
pray God to arrange it all without detriment to our earthly welfare
and without harm to my soul. God be with you, my dear, and bring us
together again soon. With heartfelt love.

Your most faithful v.B.


Frankfort, May 14, '51.