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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:43:13 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 04:43:13 -0700 |
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diff --git a/13916-h/13916-h.htm b/13916-h/13916-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..2c582b7 --- /dev/null +++ b/13916-h/13916-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,2460 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> +<html> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=UTF-8"> + <title> + The Project Gutenberg eBook of Marie Bashkirtseff, by Mary J. Safford. + </title> + <style type="text/css"> +/*<![CDATA[ XML blockout */ +<!-- + P { margin-top: .75em; margin-bottom: .75em; } + H1,H2,H3 { text-align: center; } + HR { width: 33%; margin-top: 1em; margin-bottom: 1em; } + BODY{ margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; } + a:link { color:blue; text-decoration:none } + link { color:blue; text-decoration:none } + a:visited { color:blue; text-decoration:none } + a:hover { color:red } + p.ctr { text-align:center; } + .note {margin-left: 2em; margin-right: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} /* footnote */ + .blkquot {margin-left: 4em; margin-right: 4em;} /* block indent */ + .poem {margin-left:10%; margin-right:10%; text-align: left;} + .poem br {display: none;} + .poem span {display: block; margin: 0; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} + .poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 2em;} + .poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 4em;} + // --> + /* XML end ]]>*/ + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13916 ***</div> + +<p class="ctr"> +<img src="images/frontis.jpg" width="299" height="432" alt="Marie Bashkirtseff" +title="Marie Bashkirtseff"> +</p> + +<br /> +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + +<h1>MARIE BASHKIRTSEFF</h1> + +<h3>(From Childhood to Girlhood)</h3> + +<br /> + +<h3>TRANSLATED FROM THE FRENCH<br /> +BY</h3> + +<h2>MARY J. SAFFORD</h2> + +<br /> + +<h3>New York<br /> +Dodd, Mead and Company<br /> +1912</h3> + +<br /> + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> + + <h2>CONTENTS</h2> + <p class="ctr"><a href="#PREFACE"><b>PREFACE</b></a></p> + <p class="ctr"><a href="#NEW_JOURNAL"><b>NEW JOURNAL OF MARIE BASHKIRTSEFF</b></a></p> + <p class="ctr"><a href="#BOOK_LI"><b>BOOK LI</b></a></p> + +<br /> + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="PREFACE"></a><h2>PREFACE</h2> + +<h3>THE SOUL OF A LITTLE GIRL</h3> +<br /> + +<p>Marie Bashkirtseff, beginning at twelve years old, wrote her journal +ingenuously, sincerely, amusing us by her whims, thrilling us by her +enthusiasms, touching us by her sufferings.</p> + +<p>We have gone through these note-books bound in white parchment, +slightly discoloured, like the winding sheet in which sleeps a +memory, and have already gathered a volume, precious, not because it +describes such an entertainment or such an event, but because it +reveals the mentality of a young girl.</p> + +<p>This time we have been especially interested by the first books, +written in a large, unformed hand, dashing, variable, following the +successive impressions of a changeful, sensitive nature.</p> + +<p>Very few documents exist concerning children, in whom the nineteenth +century alone began to interest itself.</p> + +<p>In fact the real personality of the child is very secret, for it +distrusts these comprehensive and authoritative beings, "grown-up +people." And it hides its ironical observations, its dreams, all the +ardour of its little soul.</p> + +<p>Children play. They have built, with sand and twigs, a fantastic +world peopled with their familiar toys: a grey cloth elephant, a +multi-coloured duck as big as that white plush bear. And they are in +the jungle, tracking, hunting, killing. Then they dance round to a +secret rhythm. Stop to look at them, the game will end. The little +mouths will become silent. The child will always hide the ingenuous +observations it makes with its clear eyes.</p> + +<p>Therefore it seems to us very interesting to show a little girl's +existence, not told from the distance of past years, but written day +by day. Marie Bashkirtseff was a child of precocious intelligence, +ardent will, extreme intensity of life. Maurice Barrès defines it +sensibly in saying that she had, "when very young, amalgamated five +or six exceptional souls in her delicate, already failing body."</p> + +<p>The nomad life led by her parents, residences in Paris, London, +Nice, Rome, hastened the development of a vivid intelligence.</p> + +<p>This little "uprooted" girl accommodated herself to these varied +lives with the versatility of children, but she knew how to reserve +her personal life of study. It was a strange intellectual solicitude +of the little girl living among idle people and dreaming of +"becoming somebody famous." And, completely surrounded by refined +luxury, she knew how to see the humble folk, whose expressive +features she has inscribed in a way not to be forgotten in her +pictures.</p> + +<p>If this journal reveals a precocious intellect, it preserves—and +this is its charm—a spontaneity of childhood—for the little Slav +was a bewitching little girl, with rosy cheeks and clear eyes. Has +she not evoked all the marvellous imagination of the little ones in +these words: "Because I put on an ermine cloak, I imagine that I am +a queen"?</p> + +<p>Marie's sentimental life has greatly perturbed her biographers. They +have accused her of having a cold, indifferent heart. Others, more +penetrating, have seen that Marie considered love as a religion for +which a god was necessary. Hence her dream as a young girl: "to love +a superior being." And she wrote to Maupassant.</p> + +<p>Jean Finot has pointed out that there was something "infinitely +tragical in the approach from a distance of these two sublime beings +already stamped by death." Besides, Marie did not know the novelist.</p> + +<p>Another person interested the young girl, Bastien-Lepage. Their +double death-struggle drew them together for a moment, and death +permanently unites their names in our memory.</p> + +<p>So let us not seek the sentimental secret which Marie did not wish +to reveal to us. Goncourt tells us the story of that Hokousaï who +signed "<i>An old man crazy to be conspicuous</i>." Let us think that +Marie was also the <i>young girl crazy to be conspicuous</i>.</p> + +<p>But let us go back to an idyl little known of Marie's twelfth year. +The fact itself is not very extraordinary. The little girl is +training herself for motherhood by lavishing caresses on wretched +papier-mâché baby dolls. She is practising for her part of woman by +playing at being in love. Artless little affairs outlined in the +catechism, pervaded by the fragrance of incense. Very similar to +these appears to us the enthusiasm the little Slav felt for the Duc +de H——. Candid, affectionate little girl, she says deliciously: "I +love him, and that is what makes me suffer. Take away this grief, +and I shall be a thousand times more unhappy. The pain makes my +happiness. I live for it alone. All my thoughts are centred there. +The Duc de H—— is my all. I love him so much. That is a very +ancient and old-fashioned phrase, since people no longer love."</p> + +<p>After such a passage of captivating vivacity, in which work and +pleasures inflame this ardent vitality, other days,—numerous, alas! +have the mere mention of a date followed by a dash. These are the +stations of the disease when the charming body was weakening like a +dying flower. And there were the alternations of hope, the +physicians consulted when at first she believed everything, to +doubt, later, all the remedies with which their pity beguiles +anxiety, at last the resigned almost certainty:</p> + +<p>"And, nevertheless, I am going to die."</p> + +<p>Should the shortness of her existence be regretted for Marie? +Certainly, thoroughly in love, she would not have found happiness in +marriage, which fashionable society too often transforms into a +partnership of egotisms, interests, and hypocrisy. But would not +maternity have consoled her, affording her a delicious refuge, her +who bent patiently over the faces of the very little children, +expressed their fleeting occupations, their intent looks?</p> + +<p>Sly death did not permit her to finish her destiny, and the little +Slav preserves for us her disturbing virgin charm.</p> + +<p>In that villa in Nice, where Marie Bashkirtseff lived, clearly +appears the vision of a young girl, harmonious in the whiteness of +her usual clothing, with a gaze sparkling with ardent life, her who, +Maurice Barrès +says,<a name="FNanchor_A_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_1">[A]</a> "appears +to us a representation of the +eternal force which calls forth heroes in each generation and that +she may seem of sound sense to us, let us cherish her memory under +the proud name of Our-Lady who is never satisfied."</p> + +<p>RENÉE D'ULMÉS.</p> + +<a name="Footnote_A_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_1">[A]</a><div class="note"><i>La +Légende d'une cosmopolite</i>.</div> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="NEW_JOURNAL"></a><h2>NEW JOURNAL OF MARIE BASHKIRTSEFF</h2> + +<h3>JANUARY, 1873</h3> + +<p class="ctr">(<i>Marie was then twelve years old</i>.)</p> +<br /> + +<p>I must tell you that ever since Baden I have thought of nothing +except the Duc de H——. In the afternoon I studied. I did not go +out except for half an hour on the terrace. I am very unhappy +to-day. I am in a terrible state of mind; if this keeps on, I don't +know what will become of me.</p> + +<p>How fortunate people who have no secrets are!</p> + +<p>Oh, God, in mercy save me!</p> + +<p>The face makes very little difference! People can't love just on +account of the face. Of course it does a great deal, but when there +is nothing else—. They have been talking about B——. He has +exactly my disposition. I am fond of society; he likes to flirt; he +likes to see and to be seen; in short, he is pleased with the same +things that please me. They say he is a gambler. Oh! dear! What evil +genius has changed him!</p> + +<p>Perhaps he is in love—hopelessly?</p> + +<p>Happy love ought to make us better, but hopeless love! Oh, I believe +it must be that!</p> + +<p>No, no, he is simply dragged down like so many young men by that +terrible gulf. Oh, what an accursed place! How many wretched beings +it has made! Oh, fly from it! Take your sons, your husbands, your +brothers away from there, or they are lost. B—— is beginning. The +Duc de H—— has begun, too, and he will go on, while he might live +happily. Live and be useful to society. But he spends his time with +wicked men and women. He can do it as long as he has anything, and +he used to be immensely rich.</p> + +<p>Dr. V—— has said that Mademoiselle +C——<a name="FNanchor_A_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_A_2">[A]</a> is +ill, that she may +live five years or die in three weeks, because she is consumptive. +How many misfortunes at once!</p> + +<a name="Footnote_A_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_A_2">[A]</a><div class="note">Marie +Bashkirtseff's governess.</div> + +<p>If, when I am grown up, I should marry B—— what a life it would +be! To stay all alone, that is, surrounded by commonplace men, who +will want to flirt with me, and be carried away by the whirl of +pleasure. I dream of and wish for all these things, but with a +husband I love and who loves me—.</p> + +<p>Ah, who would suppose it was little Marie, a girl scarcely twelve +years old; who feels all this! But what am I saying? What a dismal +thought! I don't even know him, and am already marrying him—how +silly I am!</p> + +<p>I am really much vexed about all this. I am calmer now. My +handwriting shows it. The spontaneous burst of indignation is a +little quieted. It is soothing to write or communicate one's ideas +to somebody.</p> + +<p>B—— isn't worth while. I shall never marry him. If he begs me on +his knees, I shall be—oh, I forgot the word—I shall be firm. No, +that isn't the word, but I know what I mean. Yet if he loves me very +much, very deeply, if he cannot live without me—vain phrases! Do +not let us meet. I don't wish to be weak.</p> + +<p>I am firm, I will be resolute. I mean to have the Duc de H——. I +love him at least. His dissipated life may be forgiven him. But the +other—no!</p> + +<p>While writing I was interrupted by a noise. I thought some one was +going to surprise me. Even if what I have written were not seen, I +should blush all the same. Everything I wrote previously now seems +nonsense. Yet it is really exactly what I felt. I am calm now. Later +I will read it over again. That will bring back the past.</p> + +<p>I love the Duc de H—— and I cannot tell him so. Even if I did, he +would pay no attention to it. O, God! I pray Thee! When he was here, +I had an object in going out, in dressing. But now! I went to the +terrace hoping to see him in the distance for at least a second.</p> + +<p>O God, relieve my suffering! I can pray to Thee no more. Hear my +petition. Thy mercy is so infinite. Thy grace is so great, Thou hast +done so many things for me! Thou hast bestowed so many blessings +upon me. Thou alone canst inspire him with love for me!</p> + +<p>Oh, dear! I imagine him dead, and that nothing can draw him nearer +to me. What a terrible thought! I have tears in my eyes, and still +more in my heart. I am weeping. If I did not love him I might +console myself. He would suit me for a husband in every respect. I +love him, and that is what makes me suffer. Take away this anguish, +and I shall be a thousand times more miserable. My grief makes my +happiness. I live solely for that. All my thoughts, everything is +centred there. The Duc de H—— is my all. I love him so much! It is +a very old-fashioned phrase, since people no longer love. Women love +men for money, and men love women because they are the fashion or on +account of their surroundings.</p> + +<p>I could not say, "On such or such a day I met a young man whom I +liked." I do not know when I noticed him. I cannot even understand +these feelings, I cannot find expressions. I will only say, "I do +not know when, I do not know how this love has come. It came because +it probably had to come." I should like to define this, yet I +cannot.</p> + +<p>Now, if he were paying me attention, he would think he was doing me +honour, but then I should make him see that it is I who honour him +by marrying him, because I am giving up all my glory. Yet what +happiness can be greater: To have everything—to be a child +worshipped by its parents, petted, having all a child can have. Then +to be known, admired, sought by the whole world, and have glory and +triumph every time one sings. And at last to become a duchess, and +to have the duke whom I have loved a long while, and be received +and admired by everybody. To be rich on my own account and through +my husband; to be able to say that I am not a plebeian by birth, +like all the celebrities—that is the life, that is the happiness I +desire. If I can become his wife without being a cantatrice, I shall +be equally well pleased, but I believe that is the only way I shall +be able to attract him.</p> + +<p>Oh, if that could be! My God! Thou hast made me find in what way I +shall be able to obtain what I ask. Oh! Lord! Aid me, I place all my +hopes in Thee. Thou alone canst do all things, canst render me +happy. Thou hast made me understand that it is through my voice I +can obtain what I seek. Then it is upon my voice that I must fix all +my thoughts, I must cultivate, watch, and guard it. I swear to +Thee, O Lord, no longer to sing or scream as I used to do.</p> + +<p>On leaving the H——'s, I was wrapped in an ermine cloak. I thought +I looked very well. If I became a duchess, a cloak like that would +suit me. I am growing too presumptuous. Because I put on an ermine +cloak, I imagine that I am a queen.</p> + +<p>Monday, our day. We have plenty of callers. I went in only a minute +to ask Mamma something, in my character of a little girl. Before +entering I looked at myself in the mirror hanging there: I was +good-looking, rosy, fair, pretty.</p> + +<p>Suppose I should write everything I think and everything I intend to +do when I grow up, everything I mean to forget, and everything that +is extraordinary? A dinner service of transparent glass. On one side +a certain costume and arrangement of the hair; on the other side a +different costume and a different arrangement of the hair, so that +on one side I shall be one person, and on the other side another. To +give a dinner by letters. I have determined to end this book, for +extravagant ideas rarely come to me in these days.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>March 14th, 1873.</h4> + +<p>I saw Madame V—— on the Promenade. I was so glad, not on her own +account—yes, a little, but because all these people remind me of +Baden.</p> + +<p>There I could see the Duc, because he spent nearly all his time out +of doors, but it did me no good, for I was a child. If I could be at +Baden <i>now</i> for a summer! O, dear! When I think that Grandpapa made +his acquaintance in a shop. If I could have foreseen, I should have +continued that acquaintance.</p> + +<p>I think only of him, I pray God to keep every trouble from him, +protect, preserve him from every danger.</p> + +<p>All this time people talk about the Duc de H—— and it pleases me +immensely, if I don't blush.</p> + +<p>At last I can enjoy some bright weather on the Promenade. I have +seen everybody, and I am happy. An hour driving, then walking, but +the rain surprised us.</p> + +<p>In the evening we went to the theatre, which was filled with +fashionable people. The W——'s were next to us. I talked about the +springs, horses, etc. To-day I have been reflecting. Not a moment +must be lost, every instant must be spent in study. Sometimes (I am +ashamed to confess it) I hurry through my lessons without +understanding them, in order to finish more quickly, and I am glad +when lessons are given me to review because, during the following +days, I shall have less to do.</p> + +<p>I don't intend to behave so any longer. I must finish what I am +learning quickly, that I may begin serious studies, like those of +men, and occupy myself more with music, commence lessons on the harp +and singing. These are great plans. They are sensible ones, too. Are +they not?</p> +<br /> + +<h4>March 30th, 1873.</h4> + +<p>I have been dreaming of the Duc de H——. He wore three jackets of +the queerest cut, and was at our house to look at my pictures. He +admired them, and I talked with him. I was very much agitated, and +could scarcely conceal it. He talked with me very pleasantly, and +spoke of B——. He said:</p> + +<p>"I was talking with her. I made her sit down and I spoke of you."</p> + +<p>Oh! he talked to her about me, and it was on my account that he +spoke to her! How happy I am! At last my prayer is granted! Then he +brought some kind of paper or something, I don't know exactly what, +to ask for an address to get clothes, I believe. He was in the large +drawing-room, talked to me in low tones, encouraged me by his frank +manners, then I saw mountains on the pictures at which he was +looking. It is strange that I felt nothing extraordinary, and I was +less excited than when I am awake.</p> + +<p>I was happy, I was calm and content.</p> + +<p>These transports overwhelm me at the mere sight of his name, for I +am not sure of my happiness, and I ardently desire it. But when we +have what we desire and love, we are calm. So, in my dream I was +calm, for I no longer had anything to desire. I said nothing, in +order not to interrupt my happiness. I let myself go gently and +quietly.</p> + +<p>What was my surprise to find, on waking, that all this happiness was +only a dream! I spoke of it to members of the family, I laughed at +myself, to conceal my joy and my love for him. He talked with me +tenderly. Not exactly, but I know what I mean. He was not precisely +like himself, smaller and not so handsome. I thought I had reached +port, but, on waking, I find myself in the open sea and in the midst +of the tempest, as I was yesterday and shall be for a long time, +perhaps, until he comes to lead me on board. That is a commonplace +phrase, but it well expresses what I wish to say and I use it. Then +an hour's practice on the piano. Then to the Promenade. +Mademoiselle de G—— wore a broad-brimmed grey felt hat, turned up +at one side. O, how I would like a hat like that! It is so graceful. +I would like a hat like that, and the same style of gown. It brings +back the young ladies of former days, tall, well-formed, slender, +beautiful. One would say that I am raving over a gown as I do over +the man I love.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Tuesday, April 8th.</h4> + +<p>I had a geography lesson to-day. While looking for a city in +America, my eyes were attracted by this tragical name: H—— island +in the Arctic Ocean. It seemed as if a thunderbolt had struck me, I +did not feel the earth under my feet. My heart beat violently, I was +completely upset. Can I doubt that I love him? If he knew it! But, +with God's assistance he will know it some day. God is so good. He +has given me all I have possessed up to the present moment.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Mademoiselle C—— scolded me to-day because people looked at me too +much on the Promenade. While returning from church we talked about +religion—then went on to the Duc de H——. Mademoiselle C—— said:</p> + +<p>"What associates he has! To-day he is with the H——'s."</p> + +<p>I want to describe conversations better. The Duc de H—— was +discussed. I defended him warmly, but I have seen that I went too +far.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Good Friday.</h4> + +<p>At church, when we went to kiss the tomb of Christ, I looked at all +the faces and suddenly <i>his</i> appeared as if he were there in +person. Never has it presented itself so distinctly. This time I saw +it as if it were himself. At this apparition my heart beat +violently, and I began to pray. I wanted to recall this beloved +face, but in vain. I no longer see it.</p> + +<p>At this vision, an idea came to me. There were a great many flowers +near the tomb. I took a daisy. The flower is holy, it was near our +Saviour. It will tell me whether our desires will be realised. With +a throbbing heart, I pulled off petal after petal. Yes—no—O, God! +I thank Thee! I believe this prediction, it is holy!</p> + +<p>I don't want to wait any longer. I shall die if I stay in this +furnace. It is too warm. Knock, and it shall be opened unto you. I +believe that, it is my consolation. We are going to Vienna Saturday, +but Mamma will stay. There is no pleasure without pain. That is a +great truth. So we shall start Saturday, I, my aunt, Dina, and +Paul.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>July 29th, 1873.</h4> + +<p>During the journey the most open-hearted gaiety did not cease to +reign among us. O, how disagreeable Italy is on account of the +Italians, how dirty they are! We wanted to take a bath, and I did +not expect to have such luck in an Italian hotel in Genoa. I was +greatly surprised when they brought it to me.</p> + +<p>At ten o'clock we at last reached our destination. We went to the +Grand Hotel. Everything is magnificent. I am pleased with it. I +wanted to take a bath. It is too late.</p> + +<p>We all went to the Exposition and saw a part of Germany, England, +and France. The costumes were heavenly.</p> + +<p>That is the way I shall dress later. How beautiful art can render +finery! I adore dress, because it will mate me pretty and give +pleasure to the man I love, and I shall be happy. Then dress bestows +Paradise upon earth.</p> + +<p>The Russian pavilion is extremely beautiful, everything is fine. We +breakfasted at the Russian restaurant. It is neither restaurant nor +Russian. It is a sort of German beer-hall. The servants are dressed +in red, a perfect caricature. It isn't surprising that Russians +should be taken for Turks. I am having a good time to-day. The first +two it seemed as though I was in a lethargy. That happens to me +sometimes. It is over now. The Italian statues are very original. +There are some remarkable expressions of face.</p> + +<p>Say what you like, our native land is always our native land. +Everything that is Russian in the pavilion is beautiful. I looked +eagerly. There were Russian names on the goods. My eyes filled with +tears.</p> + +<p>At seven o'clock, we went to hear the band. There were a great many +people, the music was very captivating, thoroughly Viennese. When +this orchestra stopped, another began. All sorts of persons, members +of the imperial family, fashionable ladies, young dandies, a whirl +of gaiety.</p> + +<p>The Viennese climate is delicious, not like Nice, which is burning +hot in summer.</p> + +<p>At last! We are leaving! We are in the train. There is no time to +collect one's thoughts. We pass cities, cottages, huts, and in each +dwelling people are talking, loving, quarrelling, bestirring +themselves. Every human being whom we see, smaller than a fly, has +his joys and sorrows. We are talking so much of Baden. We shall +pass through it to-morrow. I should like to go there.</p> + +<p>At five o'clock in the morning I was waked. We were approaching +Paris. I dressed quickly, but there were fifty minutes to spare. We +went to the Grand Hotel.</p> + +<p>Paris is comical in the morning. Nothing to be seen except butchers, +pastry cooks, boot-makers, restaurant keepers, opening and cleaning +their shops.</p> + +<p>Toward noon, I was not only settled, but ready to go out. In Paris I +am at home, everything interests me; instead of being lazy, I am in +too great a hurry. I should like not only to walk, but to fly. I +wanted to make myself believe that there was society in Vienna, but +that is impossible. The hotel is full of a very good sort of English +people. We are going to Ferry's. I took the address in Vienna. We +shall buy two pairs of boots, one black, the other yellow.</p> + +<p>We went on foot. I ordered some gloves. I dress myself. My allowance +is 2,500 francs a year. I received 1,000 francs. Then we took a cab +and went to Laferrière's. I ordered a tête-de-nègre costume (three +hundred francs).</p> + +<p>"Here comes the Duc de H——. Don't jump out of the carriage." My +aunt looked at me sternly. This evening I asked myself if I really +did love the Duc, or if it was imagination. I have thought of him so +much that I fancy things which do not exist—I might marry somebody +else. I imagine myself the wife of another. He speaks to me. Oh! no, +no! I should die of horror! All other men disgust me. In the street, +at the theatre, I can endure them, but to imagine that a man may +kiss my hand drives me wild!</p> + +<p>I don't express myself well, I never know how to explain myself, +but I understand my own feelings.</p> + +<p>To-night we are going to the theatre. This is Paris! I can't believe +that I am here. This is the city from which all the books are taken. +All the books are about Paris, its salons, its theatres, it is the +perfection of everything.</p> + +<p>At last I have found what I have desired without knowing it. To live +is Paris—Paris means to live!</p> + +<p>I was tormenting myself because I did not know what I wanted. Now I +see it before me. I know what I want. To move from Nice to Paris. To +have an apartment, furnish it, have horses as we do in Nice. To go +into society through the Russian ambassador. That, that is what I +want.</p> + +<p>How happy we are when we know what we want! But an idea has come to +me—I believe I am ugly. It is frightful!</p> + +<p>To-day is the first time we have seen the Bois, the Jardin +d'Acclimatation, and the Trocadéro, from which we had a view of all +Paris. Really, I have never in my life beheld anything so beautiful +as the Bois de Boulogne. It is not a wild beauty, but it is elegant, +sumptuous.</p> + +<p>Since Toulon, I have been the prey of a great sorrow. All places are +indifferent to me, except Paris, which I adore, and Nice.</p> + +<p>At last! We have reached this spot. Princess G——and W—— met us.</p> + +<p>Mamma was not there. We asked for her and were told that she was a +little indisposed. The truth is that she fell out of bed and hurt +her leg. We arrived. I made her sit in the dining-room. An arrival +is always confused. People talk and answer, all speaking at once.</p> + +<p>During my absence a little negro boy was engaged, who will go out +with the carriage. I cannot look through the window. I can't bear +this pale foliage, this red earth, this heavy atmosphere! So Mamma +said that we will stay in Paris! Heaven be praised!</p> + +<p>We were summoned to dinner, but first I arranged my room. Then I +went back to the drawing-room, where Mamma was lying. We talked and +laughed, I told what I had seen, in short, we discussed everything. +I fear Mamma will be seriously ill. I shall pray to God for her. I +am glad to be back in my chamber, it is pretty. To-morrow I mean to +have my bed all in white. That will be lovely.</p> + +<p>I regard Nice as an exile. I intend to occupy myself specially in +arranging the days and hours of tutors.</p> + +<p>With winter will come society, with society, gaiety. It will not be +Nice, but a little Paris. And the Races! Nice has its good side. All +the same, the six or seven months which must be spent there seem +like a sea I must cross without turning my eyes from the light-house +which guides me. I do not expect to approach, no, I only hope to see +this land, and the sole thing which gives me resolution and strength +to live until next year. Afterward! Really, I know nothing about it! +But I hope, I believe in God, in His divine goodness, that is why I +don't lose courage. Whoever lives under His protection will find +repose in the mercy of the Omnipotent One. He will cover thee with +His wings. Under their shelter thou wilt be in safety. His truth +will be thy shield, thou wilt fear neither the arrows that fly by +night; nor the pestilence that wastes by day! I cannot express how +deeply I am moved and how grateful I am for God's goodness toward +me.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>September 12th, 1873.</h4> + +<p>This morning I made a scene with Mamma and my aunt. I could stand it +no longer, the bottle had to be opened, there was too much gas in +it. I wept. It lasted two hours and a half.</p> + +<p>I asked forgiveness. Just at that moment some one said that a house +on the Rue de France was burning. I ran to see it. We were all at +the windows. The carriages were brought from the stables, women came +out carrying children. The building was not yet in flames. There was +a courtyard surrounded by four sheds filled with hay. The fire +flared high, but the people in Nice are always the same. They do +nothing to subdue it, only stand at a distance to enjoy the +spectacle.</p> + +<p>Oh! if it were in Russia, it would have been extinguished long ago. +Our fire engines are terrible when they are heard a league away, +every quarter has one. The firemen in golden helmets and lots of +little bells. (The noise the Duc de H——'s carriage makes coming +from a distance reminds me of the fire engines.)</p> + +<p>At last, after half an hour, a cart arrived, dragged by ten men, +what a mere nothing! And four soldiers with guns.</p> + +<p>No doubt they were going to extinguish the fire with them! But it +was out before they came.</p> + +<p>So I return to what I was saying: A complete reform in my costume +and character, I will become kind, pleasant, gentle. I will try to +be the good genius of the house.</p> + +<p>I want to make myself loved and esteemed by every one, from the +meanest beggar to the duke and king. This is the promise I make to +God. Since I desire so great a happiness, I must deserve it. That is +the way I hope to obtain it.</p> + +<p>Therefore I make a solemn vow to God that I will do what I say. If I +fail once in my oath, I shall lose everything. I will address myself +to the Holy Virgin and pray her, with Her Son, to guide and protect +me.</p> + +<p>I rose at five o'clock to-day. I have worked well, I am satisfied +with myself. How happy we are when we are content with ourselves! +All the rest matters little; we find everything, satisfactory, we +are happy. My happiness depends upon myself. I have only to study +well.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>September 15th, 1873.</h4> + +<p>I spoke Italian to-day for the first time. Poor M. (my professor) +almost fell in a faint, or threw himself out of the window. I can +say that I speak English, French, Italian, and am learning German +and Latin. I am studying seriously. Day before yesterday I took my +first lesson in physics. Oh, how well pleased with myself I am!</p> + +<p>I have received the <i>Derby</i>. I found a number of horses entered by +the Duc de H——. The races at Baden! How I should like to be there. +Nothing prevents me, but I will not go. I must study. And with a +heavy heart I read of the horse races. I calm myself with great +difficulty and comfort myself by saying: "Let us study; our turn +will come, if it is God's will."</p> + +<p>I have read this journal. My eyes are glittering, my hands are +frozen. There is no doubt of it. I adore, I adore—horses. They are +my life, my soul, my happiness. By chance I shook my whip. There was +the same hissing sound as at the races. I jumped. I no longer know +where I am. Come; it mustn't be talked about.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>September 20th.</h4> + +<p>Only at five o'clock I am free, and I am going to the city with the +Princess and Dina. In the French lesson I read Sacred History, the +Ten Commandments of God. It says we must not make unto ourselves +graven images of anything that is in the heavens. The Latins and the +Greeks were wrong, they were idolaters who worshipped statues and +paintings. I, too, am very far from following this method. I believe +in God, our Saviour, the Virgin, and I honour some of the saints, +not all, for there are some that are manufactured like plum cakes. +May God forgive this reasoning if it is wrong. But in my simple mind +this is the way things are and I cannot change them.</p> + +<p>Shall I ever believe that God has commanded a tabernacle to be built +to have His oracle heard from the ark in it? No, no! God is too +great, too sublime for these unbearable Pagan follies. I worship God +in everything. People can pray everywhere, and He is everywhere +present.</p> + +<p>I went to the city for a turn on the Promenade. In the evening we +played kings again, but the game isn't sufficiently interesting. We +played like amateurs. For all that I had a good time and laughed +heartily.</p> + +<p>G—— came and—I no longer remember in what connection—said that +human beings are degenerate monkeys. He is a little fellow who gets +his ideas from Uncle N——.</p> + +<p>"Then," I said to him, "you don't believe in God?" He: "I can +believe only what I understand."</p> + +<p>Oh, the horrid fool! All the boys who are beginning to grow +moustaches think like that. They are simpletons who believe that +women cannot reason and understand. They regard them as dolls who +talk without knowing what they are saying. With a patronising manner +they let them go on. He has doubtless read some book he did not +understand, whose passages he recites. He proves that God could not +create because at the poles bones and frozen plants have been found. +Then these lived, and now there are none.</p> + +<p>I say nothing against that. But was not our earth convulsed by +various revolutions before the creation of man? We do not take +literally the statement that God created the world in six days. The +elements were formed during ages and ages. But can we deny God when +we look at the sky, the trees, and men themselves? Would we not say +that there is a hand which directs, punishes, and rewards—the hand +of God?</p> +<br /> + +<h4>October 5th.</h4> + +<p>We went with Paul to a secluded part of the garden to shoot. My +hands trembled a little when, for the first time in my life, I took +a loaded gun, especially because Mamma was so frightened. I chose a +pumpkin twenty paces away for a target, and shot capitally. The +whole charge was in the pumpkin. The second time I fired at a piece +of paper twenty centimetres square, again I hit, and a third time a +leaf. Then I grew very proud and smiling. All fear disappeared and +it seems as if I had courage enough to go to war.</p> + +<p>I carried the pumpkin, the paper, and the leaf in triumph to show to +Mamma, who is very proud of me.</p> + +<p>Really, what harm is there in shooting? I need not become on that +account one of those detestable men-women with spectacles, masculine +coats, and canes. To fire a gun will not prevent my being gentle, +lovable, graceful, slender, vaporous (if I may use the word), and +pretty.</p> + +<p>While shooting I am a man; in the water a fish; on horseback a +jockey; in a carriage a young girl; at an evening entertainment a +charming woman; at a ball a dancer; at a concert a nightingale with +notes extra low and high like a violin. I have something in my +throat which penetrates the soul, and makes the heart leap.</p> + +<p>Seeing me with the gun, no one would imagine I could be indolent +and languishing at home. Yet, sometimes, when I undress in the +evening, I put on a long black cloak which half covers me and sit +down in an armchair. I seem so weak, so graceful (which I am in +reality) that again no one would imagine I could shoot.</p> + +<p>I am a rarity. I shall be highly educated, <i>if God wills that I +should live and blesses me</i>. I am perfectly formed, my face is +pretty enough, I have a magnificent voice, intellect, and I shall +be, withal, a woman. Happy the man who will have me. He will possess +the earthly Paradise! Provided that he knows how to appreciate me!</p> + +<p>I lack everything here, and yet I adore Nice. We always love what +does not love. <i>Sic factae sumus</i>. Everywhere else I am visiting, at +Nice I am at home, and the proverb says: However well off we may be +while visiting, we are better off at home. Nice! Nice! Thou ingrate!</p> + +<p>I adore Nice and admire it from my window. I am happy and animated. +Why? I don't know. After all—Ah! let me alone! The cards tell the +truth, I believe in the cards; they have always said yes to me. I +must have an occupation, I am of a warlike disposition. I am ready +for everything. I ask only an idea. No doubt I shall be depressed +to-morrow, for this evening I am certainly on stilts.</p> + +<p>The tower clock is striking nine. Lovely tower; lovely I! Ah! H——.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>October 8th, 1875.</h4> + +<p>We went to N——'s. The good woman vexed and made me laugh at the +same time.</p> + +<p>"The first thing to be done in Rome," said Mamma, "is to get +teachers of singing and painting."</p> + +<p>"Yes," I replied, "and I am going to visit the galleries."</p> + +<p>"But what will you do there?" asked Madame S——.</p> + +<p>"Why, copy, study."</p> + +<p>"Oh, but you are so far from that point," she said earnestly.</p> + +<p>You understand, this foolish woman judges me in that way; but pshaw. +What do I care? Yet put yourself in my place, and you will +comprehend my annoyance, my irritation.</p> + +<p>The good God is cruel. He gives me nothing. To ask the simplest, the +most possible thing, to ask it as a mercy, as a happiness, to +believe in God, to pray to Him, and to have nothing! Oh! I can see +people scoffing at me because I bring God into everything. The +poorest thing, by resistance, gains value! My ugly temper gives +importance to everything. No, frankly, I must become sensible and +mount on my pedestal, raise myself above my troubles. Has it ever +happened that everything goes wrong with you? The hair dresses +badly, the hat tilts every minute, the flounce on my skirt tears +each step I take, pebbles get into my slippers, cutting through my +stockings, and prick my feet.</p> + +<p>I returned exasperated, and that horrid dog, F——, leaped joyfully +upon me. I went upstairs and it pursued me with its caresses. I kept +my patience, but when I reached my room I gave it a kick, and it ran +howling under my bed, but after a couple of minutes came back, +wagging its tail, and looking at me as if asking my pardon. Oh, the +dog! the dog!</p> + +<p>No, never shall I be understood!</p> + +<p>I should like to have whoever reads my words be myself for an +instant in order to understand me, people cannot comprehend what +they do not feel, to do so it is necessary to be myself!—and also +myself in my lucid moments.</p> + +<p>M—— is seventeen to-day, and we lunched at W——'s. I was horribly +bored. Imagine running down a long corridor, so long that you cannot +see the end, springing forward and finding only a delusion, coming +with your outstretched hands against a wall. That is I!</p> + +<p>I rate myself above everything, and the idea that I am placed on the +same level with any one, that people do not consider me different +from the rest of the world, the bare idea makes me angry. I wish +them to forget, to trample everything under foot, to scorn and +destroy all that has preceded me—I desire that there should be +nothing before, nothing after—except the remembrance of me. Then +only I should be content.</p> + +<p>When an opportunity offers, I will express my meaning fully.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>I went out with neither pleasure nor eagerness. N—— and her +children were going to walk, and we enlarged their party.</p> + +<p>"Ah! if you knew how I have treated the human race this morning," I +said to M—— in answer to a remark I no longer remember.</p> + +<p>"Ah! if you knew how little it cares! it is a matter of no +importance," replied M——, very wittily.</p> + +<p>How dreary it is to have nobody to care for!</p> + +<p>My head is heavy and my eyes are closing, yet at the same time I +want to write more, the pen glides easily over the paper and, though +I might have nothing to say, I go on for the pleasure of filling the +white pages and hearing the pleasant scratching of the pen.</p> + +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"My head is heavy and my eyelids close,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Yet still my gliding pen I will not stay,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Fain would I tell all my heart's joys and woes,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">But cannot—though so much have I to say."</span><br /> + +<p>I am not successful with serious poetry.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Sunday, October 10th, 1875.</h4> + +<p>I was going to talk with my aunt, but why appeal to human beings? +What can men do? God alone can help! God does not hear me! Just God! +Holy Virgin! Jesus! I am not worthy to be heard, but I pray you for +it on my knees, I pray so earnestly! Is not prayer a merit, however +small it may be? Do not the most unworthy obtain what they ask +through prayer? Is it nothing to believe and to turn to God? And +though I should write until to-morrow I could say nothing but the +words:</p> + +<p>"My God, have pity on me!"</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>I who thought I must succeed in everything, see that I am failing +everywhere. I shall never console myself for it. How everything in +this world repeats itself! I went lately to the Aquaviva terrace and +looked to the right. It was in winter, and the mist was gathering on +the Promenade. I saw the Duc de H—— go into G——'s, and now it is +precisely the same thing, only then I ordered myself to love him, +and now I forbid myself to love.</p> + +<p>Then I was crazy over the man; now he interests me because he looked +at me.</p> + +<p>In a word, why and how? What do the reasons matter? I do not love +him. Oh, but I am so provoked! "Come," I said, "rouse yourself, I +won't cry about that."</p> + +<p>To straighten myself, throw back my head, smile scornfully, then +indifferently, and that is all; moisten the ropes, as they did in +moving the obelisk of Sixtus Quintus, and I shall be on my +pedestal—and I have not an instant's strength. I preferred to stay +in my armchair and murmur:</p> + +<p>"I fail in everything now."</p> + +<p>Confess, you who will read these lines, am I a man? Confess that I +have reason to be angry over it.</p> + +<p>I, the queen, the goddess. I, who should be worshipped kneeling; I, +who do not want to move my little finger lest I should bestow too +much honour; I with my ideas; I with my ambition; I with my pride! I +confess that, after having seen him go into G——'s like a master, I +feel a sort of respect for him; he acts the duke.</p> + +<p>This evening "<i>Alice de Nevers</i>," a comic opera by Hervé, was given +for the first time. Our box had been engaged a long while, first +proscenium at the right. I was dressed with more care than usual; +hair arranged in Marie Antoinette style, without the powder. The +whole was drawn up, even the fringe in front. I left only a few +little locks at each side. My beautiful white forehead, thus bared, +gave me a royal air, and at the back I let two curls hang, waved +just at the end.</p> + +<p>Gown of dove-grey taffeta and a white fichu. In short, Marie +Antoinette in miniature. I felt well satisfied, and gazed at the +base multitude from the height of my grandeur. Lighting <i>a giorno</i>. +I was looked at quite enough.</p> + +<p>He could not help staring at me like the rest. Everybody came to our +box.</p> + +<p>At every intermission I went to the back, so that I would not have +to turn my head at each visit. Just as the curtain was rising the +Prefect's son and A—— entered our box. I received them with +perfect ease; he has a foreign air.</p> + +<p>"What, Mademoiselle, are you really going away?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, Monsieur."</p> + +<p>"No, no," he said, as if he had been pricked by a pin, "Mademoiselle +shall not go."</p> + +<p>I did not deign to answer. I was courteous, agreeable, but cold. He +turned and asked me if I always gave trouble.</p> + +<p>"Yes, always."</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>We are going to the S——'s. I do not see M——. She is shut up at +home. This is what has happened—during the two months since the +C—— family arrived from Mexico, he has no longer written to her.</p> + +<p>I know that people who say what I have just said are not popular. We +prefer those who, like Dina, veil what they know by a false +sentiment of sham delicacy and misplaced pity.</p> + +<p>Listen carefully to these commonplace, but true words. C—— deserts +you. Write him a letter full of pride and withdraw with honour.</p> + +<p>I am very sorry for M——. C——will leave Europe in three days.</p> + +<p>Poor M——. This is what it means to love with the heart. I +understood at once when she told me that C—— had not written to +her for so long. On account of anonymous letters he received; +because he thought that he no longer loved her. I instantly +comprehended his object. I am frantic for her, when I think what a +satisfied face the booby will take with him to Mexico! And that poor +girl has been crying ever since this morning. I am pleased. I +foresaw everything, we must hold ourselves proudly, especially when +the man wants to draw back. He invents excuses, and the poor woman +believes she is deserving of reproach, and this, that, and the other +thing, while in reality she has no cause for blaming herself. I +always try to protect myself against every affront.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said Mamma, "I was told that you received him yesterday from +the summit of your grandeur."</p> + +<p>"Not only yesterday," my aunt interrupted, "but for a long time +past."</p> + +<p>"That is true," I replied; "otherwise I should never console myself, +for he has wounded me by confounding me with other young ladies."</p> + +<p>"How glad I am that we have no C—— in our house," remarked Mamma. +"My daughter is pure and free from any love."</p> + +<p>"Oh! oh!" said my aunt.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Oh, women, women, you will always be the same.</p> + +<p>Learn to behave yourselves, wretched sex! See how man marches +straight on, without fear, without reproach, and without being +afraid of wounding you; he abuses you, and you endure and bow +before it. Oh, you men, if you read this, know that I am grieved to +the bottom of my heart to allow you so much importance, but it would +be both bad taste and bad tactics to decry your worth; the value of +our enemies enhances our own. What credit is it to conquer dunces? +Know, you who wear trousers, know that in me you have a foe. I take +pleasure in magnifying you men in order to maintain in myself the +noble ardour which animates me.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Saturday, October 23d, 1875.</h4> + +<p>I forgot to tell my yesterday's dream. I saw some mice, against +which I threw cats that choked them. Then these mice became serpents +and went into their holes, while the cats rushed upon me, especially +one that scratched my right leg. It is a bad dream. Ah! yes; +malediction! I see that there is nothing good for me in this world. +Why do you want to live when everything fails, everything goes +wrong? We have courage up to a certain point, we make ourselves +bold, we hope, but a moment comes when we have strength no longer.</p> + +<p>Well! Jeer at me, you hardened people. What! you will say, you dare +to utter such words, when your mother is living, when you have an +aunt who worships you, a mother who obeys you, a fortune at your +command, when you are neither infirm nor ill. You are tempting God.</p> + +<p>That is what you will tell me, and I shall answer that life is made +up of little things as the body is formed of molecules. When all the +molecules decay and go to the Old Nick, the body can no longer live. +It is the same with life when all that composes it, colours it, +makes it lovable, is lacking, turns out badly, when everything +escapes, when not the slightest wish is realised, when everything +vanishes, everything deceives. No, to go on in this way is +impossible. So I believe that God will recall me soon. It is not in +vain that two mirrors were broken this year. People will say that +when we are young, we often feel a desire to die, but that is +nonsense. I have no desire to die; but I foresee my own death, for a +life so useless, so miserable, cannot last.</p> + +<p>I have interrupted myself ten times to weep and to think of this +summer; when I compare it with the present I am thoroughly wretched. +How many lost illusions! What hopes deceived! And I am rid of them. +I was going to say that my heart is torn, but it is not true; my +heart is whole, my mind is embittered, and deceptions destroy man. +Let us surround our hearts with triple brass. I will trouble myself +no more about this man. I will no longer think of him, I will no +longer speak of him as before, I forbid myself to do it.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>October 24th, 1875.</h4> + +<p>I boasted of my conduct yesterday; there was no reason for it; if I +appeared indifferent it was because I was indifferent. These people +don't know how to talk; the Arts, history, one doesn't even hear +their names. I feel that I am gradually growing stupid. I am doing +nothing. I want to go to Rome—to take up my lessons again. I am +bored. I feel myself being gradually enveloped in the spider's web +which covers everything here, but I am struggling, I am reading.</p> + +<p>At the theatre P—— with R——, her good friend, as they say in +Nice, began to yawn when she saw all the people in our box.</p> + +<p>Why do women yawn when they are jealous and curious? My mother has +noticed it a hundred times, and I, too, in my short life.</p> +<br /> + +<p>Wretched feminine position! Men have all the privileges, women have +only that of waiting their good pleasure.</p> + +<p>I should be quite proud if I could make myself really loved by this +man.</p> + +<p>Wild, reckless, ruined, vicious, fickle, brutalised by association +with wicked women! His feelings of delicacy, of true love, of +virtue, which are the bloom of the human heart, have been early +swept away from him. The desire for money holds the first place, +money to lead a gay life, to support the riffraff he has in his +train.</p> + +<p>How much women are to be pitied! It is the man who first takes +notice, it is the man who asks to be introduced, it is the man who +makes the first advances, it is the man who gives the invitation to +dance, it is the man who pays attention, it is the man who offers +marriage. The woman is like this paper, this nice paper on which we +write whatever we please. God does not hear me, yet I will not doubt +God. Often a desire to do it seizes possession of me, but I am very +quickly punished.</p> + +<p>Pshaw! Life is an ugly thing!</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Before dinner we went to walk, it was wonderful moonlight. I said a +thousand foolish things to O——, and if Dina and M—— were as +crazy as we, a great scandal would have happened, for we wanted to +dance a ring around a priest who was passing.</p> + +<p>O—— is writing a novel, it appears. After dinner we went in search +of her; I shut myself up with her, and the good girl read it. But at +the second page I stopped her and proposed that we should write one +together. I gave the idea, everything, everything, and the girl +imagines she is composing too. It would be the story of Dumas with +the <i>Tour de Nesle</i>, but I shall not assert my rights, I am giving +her a love scene for to-morrow. She makes no pretensions, and asks +for ideas, details, and love scenes with perfect simplicity.</p> + +<p>As for me, I set to work and, at one dash, wrote the first chapter, +in which my hero bursts open a door and leaps through the window.</p> + +<p>People are doing me the honour to busy themselves very much about +me, to gossip a great deal over me. Haven't I always desired it?</p> + +<p>My journal is suffering because I have begun to write a novel, and I +shall succeed. Thank Heaven, I am capable of doing everything I +wish. Two chapters in two days is going on finely. I have read it to +Dina, and my story interests her. But I am able to judge for myself +personally, and I believe it will go.</p> + +<p>While we were walking, surrounded by a group of young men, I was +happy, proud, and of what? I am little and vain; I took good care to +express a wish to return to the carriage, before my cavaliers +desired to leave. They even begged me to take another turn. That was +all right. They escorted me to the landau.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Monday, November 15th, 1875.</h4> + +<p>All day long the day of the opera I was restless.</p> + +<p>At half past eight o'clock we set off. I was dressed in a white +muslin gown, a plain skirt with a wide ruche around the bottom, +Marie Stuart waist, and hair arranged to match the costume. A very +pretty auditorium. Everybody admired me. Toward the middle of the +entertainment, I began to feel as lovely as possible. In going out I +passed between two rows of gentlemen who stared at me till their +eyes bulged, and they didn't think me bad-looking, one could see +that. My heart swelled with pride and joy. Léonie came to undress +me, but I sent her away and shut myself up. As I entered I suddenly +saw myself in the glass. I looked like a queen, a portrait that had +come down from its frame. I no longer had to say: "Ah! if I dressed +as people used to do—" I <i>was</i> dressed as people used to do. I was +beautiful.</p> + +<p>It always seems as if others did not see me as I am. How unfortunate +that, instead of these little black letters, I could not trace my +portrait as I was—my wonderful complexion, my golden hair, my eyes +so dark at night, my mouth, my figure! Those who saw me know how I +looked.</p> + +<p>While remaining simple, as suits one of my age, barely beyond +childhood, I was gowned like a grown person. That is where the +difficulty lies—to be like a grown person and yet not extravagant +and overdressed.</p> + +<p>Later I felt very unhappy and began to sing: "Knowst thou the land?" +and fell on my knees, weeping. Why? It is a relief to lie on the +ground. Because, in the last scene, a love scene, P—— had in her +voice—it gave one a thrill—I would die for the truth—and +joyfully.</p> + +<p>This is it, he who slays with the sword shall perish by the sword.</p> + +<p>It seems as if I had loved. I feel in despair; I don't know why, but +it was a torturing feeling and made me weep.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Tuesday, November 16th, 1875.</h4> + +<p>I left Nice to-day with my aunt, I was ready to cry every instant.</p> + +<p>"Do you want a pillow?" she asked.</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"Are you ill?"</p> + +<p>"No."</p> + +<p>"But you look so pale."</p> + +<p>"I am tired."</p> + +<p>"You must be ill; where do you feel pain?"</p> + +<p>"Everywhere!—Come, Aunt, don't disturb me, I am composing."</p> + +<p>"Ah!"</p> + +<p>"Oh! there is nothing like the rolling of a carriage to give ideas."</p> + +<p>"Aha! That's different; well, well, I didn't know."</p> + +<p>And she left me to compose at my ease. Then, after a silence:</p> + +<p>"Why did A—— turn so pale when P—— began to sing: 'Knowst thou +the land?'"</p> + +<p>"How could you have seen? For my part, I can never notice whether a +person turns pale or blushes."</p> + +<p>"Yes, you, because you can't see at a distance, but I can. He turned +as white as a sheet when she sang: 'There would I fain live!'"</p> + +<p>"I saw nothing."</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Wednesday, November 17th, 1875.</h4> + +<p>Many things have changed since Monday. I don't wish to die, no +matter where and no matter how, and I have since been ashamed of +myself. I meant to trifle with the man, and it seems as if the man +was trifling with me. This insult, joined to the wrath I feel for my +weakness Monday, makes me detest him.</p> + +<p>At six o'clock we arrived without having secured any accommodations +at the Grand Hotel, so we took rooms at the Hôtel Splendide.</p> + +<p>"Is it worth while to choose for a hero a miserable Nice scamp like +that A——?" said my aunt, "and to write a lot of stuff about him?"</p> + +<p>Certainly my aunt understands nothing of the matter, and that is +very fortunate. I do think of him, and yet if he loved me, I would +not consent to be his wife. No one in the household considered him +a suitable match. They noticed him because I was interested in him. +They talked about him because they saw it gave me pleasure, yet if I +said I wanted to marry him they would think me crazy, would raise a +loud outcry, for they are dreaming of a throne for me. So I don't +want to marry him. I only say I am jealous; that is why I am going +to Rome. If I stayed in Nice I could not work; I should only torment +myself. Since knowing him, since he has paid me attention, my +studies have suffered greatly, especially since it has seemed to me, +and I am almost sure of it, that he is not madly in love with me, I +have not been able to read a book or practise an hour on the piano.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Paris, November 18th, 1875.</h4> + +<p>Tired enough, finery will use me up, me and my money. But that is +why I came to Paris, and we must do things conscientiously. I need +not say that I am not having anything made in colours, everything is +white.</p> + +<p>I feel sad, unnerved, I should like to smile and to weep. No, +really, love is full of interest.</p> + +<p>I was in good spirits this evening, I talked with my aunt, and +complained of M—— A——. She answered that M——A—— was a girl +of the street, a worthless creature. I declared that she deserved +every punishment for having, without knowing me, from mere gossip, +formed a bad opinion of me and basely slandered me. Seizing a sheet +of paper, I wrote:</p> + +<p>"Contemptible old creature, your daughter no longer loves G——, +she loves a door-keeper in the Théâtre Italien, who is a very +handsome fellow."</p> + +<p>I sent this to D——, who is going to mail it as if it came from +Nice.</p> + +<p>I wanted to howl this morning, but it would be too much like the +dogs—I sigh and I laugh, which is amusing.</p> + +<p>"Good Heavens," I said to my aunt yesterday, "do you suppose I could +be in love? What I want is wealth. If my heart beats, it is when I +see superb carriages, magnificent horses; if I am agitated, it is +with the longing to have all these things.</p> + +<p>"No, Madame, even if I loved any one, the luxury here would cure me +very quickly. You don't know me, or you pretend not to know me."</p> + +<p>I never spoke more truthfully; my aunt believed me, and began to +comfort me; to calculate, to try to have money enough to satisfy my +wants.</p> + +<p>I worship people when they show good will. But the line of railroad +that leads me to the Duc de H—— has made a tremendous curve! +Yesterday he suddenly presented himself to my mind, so handsome that +I am again completely captivated.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>November 19th, 1875.</h4> + +<p>I have spent a day between L—— and W——. It is full of interest, +for dress forms an art, a talent, a science! Finery to this degree +of perfection is a treat.</p> + +<p>Oh, dear, how tiresome life is when one hasn't an income of at least +300,000 francs!</p> + +<p>I have a dozen gowns made, a few hats, and stop there! It's absurd; +one ought not to be embarrassed by such things. Oh, money, money! I +must have it; I'll take any husband, if he will give it to me.</p> + +<p>"And she has such ideas at fifteen," said my aunt.</p> + +<p>"Yes, Aunt; not at fifteen; since I was thirteen—always."</p> + +<p>"You are crazy," replied my aunt.</p> + +<p>"I think so, too, but what is to be done?"</p> + +<p>"If you don't sleep for ten nights wealth will not arrive any the +more; come, go to bed; it's heartrending, heartrending."</p> + +<p>"Madame, I must be married!"</p> + +<p>"To E——? No, indeed, he doesn't suit me."</p> + +<p>I have written a lot of nonsense this evening; my ideas are very +much confused, and the novel especially. And every time I talked +seriously, my aunt was alarmed. Whenever I laughed, she laughed +too.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Saturday, November 20th, 1875.</h4> + +<p>For three hours everything in the house has been in a state of +revolution, but all the flames were extinguished in a business +interview with D——. With pride and confidence I assure myself that +I am the wise head of the household. I believe that this time all +the difficulties are smoothed, unless the matter is upset when I am +no longer here.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Sunday, November 21st, 1875.</h4> + +<p>I want to return to Nice, the longer I stay here, the longer my +departure for Rome is delayed. I spend my time in complaining; my +aunt says I am crazy. I laugh, and so does she. Life is full of +interest.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Monday, November 22nd, 1875.</h4> + +<p>We went to my beautifiers, and also to B——'s. To-morrow we shall +decide upon the carriages. Then I went to see B——, with whom I +always keep up a correspondence. I spent an hour with her; we are +not intimate friends, like young girls, we are mere acquaintances.</p> + +<p>We received a letter from Mamma, with a clipping from a newspaper in +which the opening of the opera at Nice was described, and a number +of complimentary things said about us. So people are interested in +me, but let us pass on. Mamma has been to the opera again, there was +some mistake about the box, and old A—— came to give her a box by +the side of his. Everybody came to see her—he was with Dina and +O——. Everybody enquired for us except G——.</p> + +<p>While reading this letter I committed a thousand extravagances, to +the amazement of my aunt. Instantly taking a sheet of paper I wrote, +disguising my hand, a letter to A—— D——.</p> + +<p>"Sir, here is a recent and true story from which your wonderful +talent will be able to make a drama or a striking romance.</p> + +<p>"A rich man, forty-five years old, married in Spain a young girl of +sixteen and took her to his château in France. He was a widower, and +had a son eight years old. This child, at the end of fifteen years, +became a young man of three and twenty. He is handsome, impetuous, +spoiled, but good and loyal. His stepmother is scarcely thirty-one, +and beautiful. They love each other.</p> + +<p>"Pursued by remorse, she could no longer endure the presence of her +husband, who knew nothing. She planned that he should surprise her +with some one else. The husband fired at her, but missed his aim.</p> + +<p>"She fled to a convent where the husband is going to pursue her, +wants to bring a lawsuit, take away her children—the oldest a girl +of fifteen. The story could be turned to excellent account.</p> + +<p>"There was also an interview between the young man and the woman, in +which he sought to lead her into a reconciliation, showed her the +scandal which this rupture would bring upon her daughters. It ended +by a total separation, but if you wish you can kill off whichever +you like, except the son, who is very well.</p> + +<p>"Answer me through the correspondence of the Figaro, if you think +there is anything in it, addressing the initials C.P.L."</p> + +<p>"That is wicked and absurd," said my aunt.</p> + +<p>"It is worse than wicked, worse than absurd, it is cowardly, but +what do you expect, doesn't everybody know the story?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, but people don't talk about it, not on account of the old man, +who is a fool, whom everybody recognises as such, but for the sake +of the young one, who is beloved. It is only since the son's +appearance in society that his father has been let alone."</p> + +<p>"Why does he look so fierce?" C——asked B—— one day.</p> + +<p>"Because so many stones have been thrown at him."</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Wednesday, November 24th, 1875.</h4> + +<p>I slept for twelve hours and, while trying on at L——'s I felt ill. +True, they kept me two hours with those wretched gowns.</p> + +<p>We ordered from B—— a landau with eight springs, dark-blue, five +seats, everything the very best, at the price of 6,000 francs; also +a park phaeton of the same colour, the phaeton is for me. I already +see myself in that little carriage, driving and saying: "Knowst thou +the land—"</p> + +<h4>November 28th, 1875.</h4> + +<p>I am in Nice. From Paris to Lyon, we were in the midst of snow, but +it is strange that I am not so delighted as I was before on reaching +my villa.</p> + +<p>At Toulon we met C—— and took her with us. Mamma and the S——'s +were waiting for us at the station. The grown-ups took a cab, and we +entered our carriage.</p> + +<p>We went to the opera. I wore a white barège costume made a little +like a night-gown—open in front, as if by chance, and confined at +the waist by a wide sash like a child's. We laughed heartily in +spite of the general dulness.</p> + +<p>I returned stupid, indifferent. It is the most detestable condition. +I would rather weep. I don't love him. I hate him with all the +strength with which I might have loved him. Nothing in the world +effaces the resentment I have once felt.</p> + +<p>Do you remember all that is wounding and terrible expressed in the +one word "scorn"?</p> + +<p><i>I</i> understand, I who remember the slap my brother gave me more than +twelve years ago, at whose recollection I am still as furious as if +I had received it now; I who have kept a sort of hatred of my, +brother on account of that childish affront. It was my only blow, +but to make up for it, I have given a goodly number and to +everybody. There was so much wickedness in my eyes that, when I +looked in the glass, I was frightened by it. Everything can be +pardoned except scorn. I would forgive a cruelty, a fit of passion, +insults uttered in a moment of anger, even an infidelity, when +people return and still love, but scorn—!</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Monday, November 29th, 1875.</h4> + +<p>We went out at three o'clock. I who came to Nice in search of fine +weather encountered Parisian cold. I wore an otter skin hat, made in +the style of a baby hood, and my big sable pelisse covered with +white cloth. The costume created a sensation, and my face did not +look ugly, in spite of my fatigue.</p> + +<p>I am so happy to be at home in my own house. I am sleeping in my +big dressing room. My chamber will be ready in a month; I shall find +it finished on my return from Rome. I am thinking only of that, of +having my carriage, of spending a month in Nice, of continuing the +studies I shall have begun in Rome, of following my professor's +directions, and then of going to Russia. So many things have +suffered, so much money has been lost because we failed to take our +journey. There was a crowd to hear the band play. General B—— and +V—— were near us. A—— was near the carriage.</p> + +<p>"Are you going to stay long in Nice?"</p> + +<p>"A week."</p> + +<p>"Are you going away again?"</p> + +<p>"Why, yes," replied my aunt.</p> + +<p>"And where?"</p> + +<p>"To Rome."</p> + +<p>"Yes, to Rome," I added.</p> + +<p>"But you do nothing but travel. Mademoiselle, you are a regular +whirler."</p> + +<p>"What a ridiculous man!"</p> + +<p>We were walking, I, my aunt, and the General, who made me laugh by +calling my attention to the different ways in which people looked at +me, the men at my face, the women at my gown.</p> + +<p>From this time I will no longer trouble myself about any one. I will +become Galatea, let people love me, if they like!</p> + +<p>I wonder why I am unhappy. No! I have no brains. Do people ask such +things when they have? We are happy or we are unhappy, nothing does +any good; neither prayer, nor tears, nor faith. I am a living proof, +I lack everything.</p> + +<p>When shall I go to Rome? I want to study, I am losing my time for +nothing. If one does nothing, one ought to go into society; I am +losing my time and I am bored.</p> + +<p>O, misery of miseries! I will go all the same to pray to God, who +knows?</p> + +<p>While there is life, there is hope.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Saturday, December 4th, 1875.</h4> + +<p>I have told Mamma that I was going to study singing, and I shall do +it, if it is God's pleasure to preserve my voice; it is the only way +of gaining the fame for which I thirst, for which I would give ten +years of my life without hesitation. I need renown, glory, and I +will have them. <i>Deo juvante.</i> It has never happened that people +wanted it, and did not have it! I have the most comprehensive ideas +in the world. A fig for all that! Do I want it? A hundred times, no, +a thousand times no! I was born to be a remarkable woman, it +matters little in what way or how. All my tendencies are toward the +great things of this world. I shall be famous, I shall be great, or +I shall die!</p> + +<p>It is impossible that God should have given me this <i>gloria +cupidatis</i>, like S——, for nothing, without an object; my time will +come. I am happy when I think as I do to-day. Oh, my voice!</p> + +<p>We went to the opera house to get a box for this evening. They gave +the "Barber," my favourite little opera. I aspire to something +unheard of, fabulous; I want to be famous, I will sing. It is queer, +the whole Italian company saluted me. We were in No. 2. I wore my +Empire gown, in which I like myself best. Hair dressed like an +Olympian goddess, falling lower than the belt, and curled naturally +at the ends. The General, always charming, was with us.</p> + +<p>"Come," I said, "do you know what I am going to do?"</p> + +<p>"What are you going to do, Mademoiselle?"</p> + +<p>"I am going to make a mirror."</p> + +<p>"How?"</p> + +<p>"Look."</p> + +<p>I took the attitude of old A——, who sat opposite. He put his hand +on the balustrade; I did the same. He leaned on his hand; I leaned +on mine. He played with his chain; I played with my ribbon. He +pulled his ear; I pulled mine.</p> + +<p>The General laughed, Dina laughed, everybody laughed.</p> + +<p>Every time he changed his position I imitated him like the most +faithful mirror.</p> + +<p>It was the last act, the house was half empty, and I continued my +game in freedom till the last moment. I went out fairly jumping for +joy and returned home gay and talkative.</p> + +<p>To-night "Mignon" was given at the theatre.</p> + +<p>I listened with pleasure and emotion. I forgot everything, toilette +and audience, and, with my head resting against the pillar, I +devoured the charming melodies. If I had "Mignon" given in my room I +should enjoy it just as much, even more. With an interesting +audience one hears nothing. I have seen this opera so many times! +And I am always moved.</p> + +<p>One could not imagine my impatience to go to Rome and resume my +work. To study, to study, that is my desire! I grow joyous at the +sight of my dear books, my adored classics, my beloved Plutarch.</p> + +<p>I shall carry with me a few volumes to read, for I suppose we shall +not see many people; we know no one there.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Saturday, December 11th, 1875.</h4> + +<p>The weather is magnificent. A tremendous crowd when we go out. We +move at a walk, between hedges formed of the young men of Nice. They +all take off their hats, and it seems as if I were the daughter of a +queen whom they salute as she passes.</p> + +<p>We met the Marvel, who alighted from his carriage and raised his hat +to us twice. I was amused, I laughed, I went with O——. Why did we +laugh so much? I shall remember later.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Sunday, December 19th, 1875.</h4> + +<p>To-morrow there is to be a concert at the <i>Cercle de la Méditerranée</i> +for the benefit of the free <i>École des beaux-arts</i>. I went to the +club to get tickets. Entering through the big door I was ushered +through well-heated, well-lighted corridors to the room of the +secretary, who gave me the little book containing the by-laws and +the names of the members. Men are lucky!</p> + +<p>The club made a charming impression upon me. There is a fraternity +of spirit a homelike air, which reminds one of the convent. I am no +longer surprised that these men avoid their badly lighted, poorly +heated homes, with household cares neglected, ill-disciplined +servants, a wife in a wrapper and a bad humour, to go to a place +where everything is nice, comfortable, elegant (in a land where the +orange tree blossoms, where the breeze is softer and the bird +swifter of wing).</p> + +<p>O women, don't pity yourselves, but attend to your homes.</p> + +<p>Long instructions might be given. I am content to say: "Make your +house resemble a club as much as possible and treat your husbands +as these ladies, L——and C——, treat them, and you will be happy +and your husbands too."</p> + +<p>Now I am calm and I think. O misery of miseries! O despair! What I +have written expresses the best portion of what I feel. O God, have +pity on me. Good people, do not jeer at me. Perhaps I give cause for +amusement, but I am to be pitied. With my temperament, my ideas, I +shall never explain what I feel. I shall never give an idea of my +unhappiness, it is because while dying of shame, of scorn, of rage, +I have the courage to jest. I really do have good health and a good +disposition. Provided that what I have just said doesn't bring me +misfortune!</p> + +<p>I have a great many other things to say, but I am tired. I am going +to write in big letters, "I am unhappy," and in letters still +larger, "O God, aid me, have pity on me!"</p> + +<p>These big letters represent an hour and a half of rage, tears, +irritated self love, and two hours of prayer!</p> + +<p>I have exhausted all words, I have exhausted my energy, I no longer +have patience or strength, yet I still have one resource.</p> + +<p>My voice. To preserve it I must take care of my health. Another week +like this one, and good-bye to singing!</p> + +<p>No, I will be sensible, I will pray to God. I will go to Rome. I am +desperate, I will implore the Pope to pray for me. In my madness, I +hope for that.</p> + +<p>To-morrow I will talk with Mamma about my idea; aid me, my God.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Thursday, December 23d, 1875.</h4> + +<p>I am sorrowful and discouraged. My departure is an exile to me. I +want to stay in Nice, and it is impossible. We always insist upon +the impossible. The simplest thing, by resisting, gains in value.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Friday, December 24th, 1875.</h4> + +<p>B—— has been to our house. By a few words in the conversation he +awoke in me so much love for Nice, so much regret at leaving, that I +became unhappy and went to my room to sing—with such earnestness, +such warmth, that I am still weeping from it—that eternal air, and +these delightful words:</p> + +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Alas! Would it were possible I might return,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Unto that vanished land whence I was torn,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">There, there alone to live my heart doth yearn,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">To live, to love, to die."</span><br /> + +<p>How I pity those who are not like me! They do not understand how +much truth there is in this familiar fragment that is sung in every +drawing-room. Yes, <i>there alone to live my heart doth yearn</i>. Yes, +at Nice, in my beloved villa. People may go through the world. They +will find sublime landscapes, impressive mountains, frightful gulfs, +wild beauties of nature, picturesque towns, great cities; but, on +returning to Nice one would say that elsewhere it was beautiful, +magnificent! but here it is pleasant, attractive, congenial; here +one wants to stay; here one is alone and surrounded, hidden and in +sight, as one desires. Nowhere else does one breathe as freely, as +joyously. Nowhere else is there this extraordinary blending of the +real and the artificial, the simple and the exquisite! Finally, what +shall I say? Nice is my city. I am going, but I shall return.</p> + +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Go, but still regret it,</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><i>Regret has its charms,</i></span><br /> + +<p>as one of the pleasant simpletons called poets has said.</p> + +<p>To-morrow will be Christmas, and I am planning a joke with C——. We +are going to buy a pair of huge slippers, a jockey, reins for +driving (suitable for a child), and two little sheep. We will put +these things into the slippers, make a package, and under the cord +slip a letter written in this form:</p> + +<p>"Santa Claus has found little E——very good, and hopes he will +continue to be. The toys are for little E——, the slippers for +little 'papa.'" And on the envelope one may guess what. But we shall +not send it, Dina is going to disguise herself as a boy, and, with +her blue spectacles and pale complexion, she appears like a +professor of mathematics. C—— and I will also make ourselves +unrecognisable and, at eight o'clock, go to the club, and tell the +coachman to give the package to the janitor from M. E——. We +laughed as we used to do. What amuses me is to see a serious woman +play pranks with me.</p> + +<p>This morning we had a call from a Sister T——. She left two +visiting cards. <i>The Sisters of the Good Shepherd.</i> I took one, +added P.P.C. and, with an address written on it, sent it to Tour.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Saturday, December 25th, 1875.</h4> + +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Ah! son felica! Ah! son rapita!</i></span> + +<p>Find me a language which expresses thought with so much enthusiasm. +So I use it to define my condition. It is heavenly weather, +everybody is out of doors, in spite of my vigil yesterday, I look +pretty.</p> + +<p>I go to walk enchanted, happy, I sing "Mignon" softly and everything +seems beautiful to me. Everybody looks at me so pleasantly, those +whom I know salute me. I should like to hug them all. Oh, how +comfortable we are in Nice, I should not want to go away.</p> + +<p>I have a longing for amusement, I should like to invite everybody to +the house, to give a dinner, a ball, a supper, a reception, to have +some sort of diabolical carnival—I should like to have everybody, +everybody. I am not ill-natured at heart, I am only a little crazy.</p> + +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>Ah! son felica! Ah! son rapita</i></span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;"><i>Dio Virgina Sanctissima.</i></span><br /> + +<p>We went to the opera, Mamma and I in the 3d box in the first row, my +aunt and Dina in the 2nd next to the Marvel. T—— came in, General +B—— was with us. The door opened and the Marvel appeared.</p> + +<p>"Well," said I, "you celebrated Christmas."</p> + +<p>"Ah! yes, just think, I received a pair of slippers."</p> + +<p>"Slippers!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, and mine were so worn out that they came very opportunely, and +an anonymous letter which was not signed—that is very natural, +anonymous letters are never signed. And the same day I received a +letter, a visiting card: <i>The Sisters of the Good Shepherd</i>."</p> + +<p>Everybody laughed.</p> + +<p>"What does P.P.C. mean?" I asked.</p> + +<p>"Pays Parting Calls."</p> + +<p>"Oh, yes, that's true."</p> + +<p>"But for some time I have received a great many things, the other +day a bit of broken rock, pierced by an arrow. All the people in the +box shouted with laughter, and so did I. But I saw plainly that he +was furiously angry and suspected everything. It is terrible that +only the most foolish little pranks should be remembered."</p> + +<p>"You are very fortunate, I received nothing at all."</p> + +<p>"Ah! If you wish, I'll send you some slippers."</p> + +<p>"But if they are so big, what should I do with them?"</p> + +<p>"Never mind, I'll send you all the things."</p> + +<p>"That is kind, I am quite overpowered."</p> + + + +<hr style="width: 65%;" /> +<a name="BOOK_LI"></a><h2>BOOK LI</h2> + +<p class="blkquot"><i>From Sunday, December 26th, to Sunday, January 9th, 1876; +Nice, Promenade des Anglais, 55 bis, in my villa.—From +Monday, January 3d, in Rome, Hôtel de Londres, Piazza di +Spagna.</i></p> +<br /> + +<h4>Sunday, December 26th, 1875.</h4> + +<p>We went to hear the band. G. M—— came to talk to us and, among +other compliments, said to me: "M——, I would like to give you some +of my experience, I love you so much! No, really, +Madame,"—addressing my mother—"she has such an extraordinary mind, +so developed, so broadened. But it lacks experience. M——, my +child, I will give you some advice."</p> + +<p>"Give it, Monsieur, give it."</p> + +<p>"Well, never love seriously, for there not in me whole world a man +worthy your love."</p> + +<p>"Yes, I know that. I know that men are not equal to women. You are +not equal to your wife, I can tell you."</p> + +<p>"You are right, M——."</p> + +<p>He is right. I shall never love wholly. I shall worship, I shall +rave, I shall commit follies and even, if opportunity offers, have a +romance. But I shall not love, for candidly in my inmost heart, I am +convinced of the villainy of men. Not only that, I do not find any +one worthy of my love, either morally or physically. It is useless +to say and think all I want. A—— will never be anything but a +good-looking member of the fashionable society of Nice—a gay liver, +almost a fop. Oh, no; every man has some defect that prevents loving +him entirely. One is stupid, another awkward, another ugly, +another—in short, I seek physical and moral perfection.</p> + +<p>Now that it is two o'clock in the morning, that I am shut up in my +room, wrapped in my long white dressing-gown, my feet bare and my +hair down, like a virgin martyr, I can give myself up to a throng of +bitter reflections. I shall go, carrying in my heart all the +sorrowful and wicked things that can be contained there.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>December 28th, 1875.</h4> + +<p>I don't want public pity, but I should like to have one creature to +understand me, compassionate me, weep with me sincerely, knowing why +she was weeping, seeing with me into the farthest corner of my +heart. What is there more dastardly, more ugly, viler than mankind?</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Wednesday, December 29th, 1875.</h4> + +<p>We went to see Mme. du M——. She gave me seven letters of +introduction for Rome. May God grant that they will be of the +service this excellent woman desires, she loves me so much! No doubt +everybody has trouble. One is ill, another is in love, another wants +money, another is bored. You will say, perhaps, "Poor little idler, +she thinks she is the only person who is unhappy, while she is +happier than most people." But my sorrow is the most hateful of all.</p> + +<p>We lose a beloved one. We mourn for a year, two years, and remain +sorrowful all our lives. The greatest grief loses its force with +time, but an incessant, eternal torment!...</p> + +<p>I have just read Mme. du M——'s letters. No one could be kinder, no +one could be more charming. And, just think, the greater part of +the time those who would like to do things cannot. It is six years +since she left Rome and I doubt whether her acquaintances remember +her; and then, her influence was never great.</p> + +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"Have you suffered, wept, and languished,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Thinking hope was all in vain,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Soul in mourning, torn heart anguished?</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 3.5em;">Then you understand my pain."</span><br /> + +<p><i>Sappho</i> was given to-night. I wore a sort of Neapolitan shirt of +blue crêpe de Chine and old lace, with a white front. It can't be +described—it was as original and charming as possible, with a white +skirt and an alms-bag of white satin. We arrived at the end of the +first act, and were near P—— and R——, and I heard the voice of +the Marvel. Nothing can be said against her face, it is blooming; +whether real or artificial is of little consequence. She has +hair—oh, I don't know. At Spa, she was fairer than I; here, she is +darker</p> + +<span style="margin-left: 2em;"><i>"d'un serpent, jaune et sifflant</i>."</span><br /> + +<p>Now the American has gone home, and is doubtless in a sleep which +will preserve her twenty-seven-year-old complexion, while I am +awake. Just now I fell on my knees sobbing, beseeching God, with my +arms outstretched, my eyes fixed on space before me, exactly as if +God was there in my room. I believe I am uttering insolent things to +God.</p> + +<p>The S——'s came, and after dinner we began to tell fortunes and +laughed almost as much as we did before, that is, the others did, +but I could not. Then we poured melted wax into cold water (it is +the shadow that is looked at). I had in succession a lion couchant +with one of his front paws extended, holding a rose; isn't it odd? +Then a great heap of something surmounted by a garland held by +Cupids.</p> + +<p>As for M——, her wax figure cast a horrible shadow. A woman lying +as if dead with her hands crossed on her breast. O—— and Dina had +insignificant shadows. And, at fifteen minutes before midnight, four +mirrors were brought, two for Dina and two for me, and we took up +the great fortune telling.</p> + +<p>I looked with all my eyes, without stirring, almost without +breathing. In the proper costume of night-gown and unbound hair. But +everything was very vague; it quivered, danced, formed, and reformed +every instant.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Saturday, January 1st, 1876.</h4> + +<p>Here is the new year. Greeting and mercy. Well, the first day of +1876 was not so bad as I expected. They say the whole year is spent +very much like the first day, and it is true. I spent the first of +last January in the cars, and I have really travelled a great deal.</p> + +<p>To-morrow, yes, to-morrow I shall be glad to go. I am perfectly +happy, for I have made a plan—a plan that will fail like the +others, but which amuses me in the meanwhile. If it were not two +o'clock in the morning, I would write a whole story of the sale of a +soul. The brutes—I have not wept, I have not felt sad once. A very +pleasant day to commence the year. I shall go and think only of +returning. No doubt I shall change my mind in Rome. All the same, +this is where I should like to live.</p> + +<p>I had already closed my book, but I and a lot of things to say. I +have looked at the great caricature, there are five of us. I have +thought of everything; of Mme. B——, of the English, of the people +of Nice, of S——, of "Mignon." In a word, a quantity of things. I +had a great deal to say, and lo! I stop.</p> + +<p>It is tiresome to go, but it is horrible to stay. P—— has dramatic +emotions so genuine that she delights and thrills me. Come, what was +I going to write? That I am calm and agitated, sorrowful and joyous, +jealous and indifferent. It seems to me that fastidious society is +possible to have and, at the same time, it is impossible.</p> + +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"I wish to stay and I wish to go,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">How it will end I do not know."</span><br /> + +<p>I cannot lie down. I am sorrowful, excited.</p> + +<p>Oh, calm yourself, for Heaven's sake. It hasn't anything to do with +M. A——, but simply that I am going. The uncertainty, the +vagueness, leaving the known for the unknown.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Sunday, January 2nd, 1876.</h4> + +<p>"I shall go Sunday at three o'clock," I said or rather shrieked, and +Sunday at one o'clock everything was topsy-turvy. The trunks were +still empty, and the floor was covered with gowns and finery. For my +part, I put on a grey dress and waited quietly. C—— and Dina +worked, and so well that everything was ready for the hour of +departure.</p> + +<p>At half past two, C—— and I got into a little cab and went to hear +the band, and I listened once more to the municipal music of Nice. +"Come," I said to Collignon, "if this piece is gay, our journey +will be, too. I am superstitious." And the piece was very lively. So +much the better!</p> + +<p>I saw G——, who bid me good-bye once more. I haven't seen the +Marvel, but that doesn't matter.</p> + +<p>We got into the landau again, and went to the station. Our friends +came there, one after another. I skipped about, I laughed, I +chattered like a bird. How kind they are, and how hard it is to +leave them.</p> + +<p>"You feign this gaiety," said B——to me, "but in your heart you are +weeping, I am sure of it."</p> + +<p>"Ah! you think so? No!</p> + +<span style="margin-left: 2em;">"When to Nice you bid good-bye,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Unfeigned joy is in your eye.</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">Easy 'tis from Nice to part,</span><br /> +<span style="margin-left: 2.5em;">For she never wins your heart."</span><br /> + +<p>"Bravo! Bravo!"</p> + +<p>The quatrain was made one evening when we were capping verses with +G——.</p> + +<p>"Give me some cigarettes," I said softly to my aunt.</p> + +<p>"Very well, later."</p> + +<p>I thought she had forgotten, but at Monaco she wrapped a number in +paper and gave them to me. She, who cries out when I ask her for +them at home. At Monaco we parted, and those horrid cigarettes made +me cry. I was sorry for the poor old grandfather, my aunt, +everybody. I am vexed to have to go with Mamma. I was with her at +Spa and, besides, I am used to my aunt.</p> + +<p>Oh! torture! Imagine the tediousness of a journey in Italy. Mamma +and Dina do not know Italian. I refused to use my tongue; I can +scarcely use my limbs. By dint of complaining because I was not with +my aunt, and saying: "Who asked you to come with us? I ought to go +with my aunt. Why do you come with me?" I obtained a passive +obedience and an alacrity impossible to imagine.</p> + +<p>Night found us in a car. I complained, wept softly, and said the +most provoking things to my mother, like the brute I am.</p> + +<p>At last, toward three o'clock, Monday, January 3d, ruins, columns, +aqueducts began to appear on the dreary plain called the Roman +Campagna, and we entered the station of Rome. I saw nothing, I heard +nothing. I was utterly limp after these twenty-four hours without +sleep.</p> + +<p>We were taken to the Hôtel de Londres, Piazza di Spagna, and we +occupied an apartment on the ground floor, with a yellow +drawing-room that was very fresh and neat, I was tired and +depressed, in the condition in which I needed some one to sustain +me. And Mamma was crying. Oh, dear!</p> + +<p>We must set to work very, very quickly to look about us. There is +nothing I hate like changing.</p> + +<p>New streets, strange faces, and no Mediterranean. Only the miserable +Tiber. I am utterly wretched when I am in a new city. I shut myself +up in my room to collect my scattered wits a little.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Tuesday, January 4th, 1876.</h4> + +<p>Yesterday Mamma wrote to B——, the brother of the empress's +physician, and to-day he came to our house. He devotes himself to +painting. After this visit, we went out. Oh! the ugly city, the +impure air! What a deplorable mixture of ancient magnificence and +modern filth!</p> + +<p>We went through the Corso, the Via Gregoriana, the Forum of Hadrian, +the Forum of Rome, we saw the gates of Septimus Severus, and +Constantine, the Via Pia, the Coliseum, but everything is still +vague, I don't recognise myself. The drive on the Pincio is +charming, the band was playing, but there were not many people when +we were there. Statues, statues everywhere. What would Rome be +without statues? From the summit of the Pincio we looked at the dome +of St. Peter and also the whole city. I am glad to find it is not +over large, it will be easier to know.</p> + +<p>On the drive we were amused to meet the S——'s, A——, and P—— of +Rome. The sun did not appear, and the weather was dull and dreary.</p> + +<p>On arriving in Rome, I had no artistic feeling. It is Rome that +opened my mind, so I have worshipped her since. I don't want to +visit anything before we are settled. The evening was spent in +consulting the cards and in writing letters.</p> + +<p>This stay in Rome seems an exile and it is with unequalled joy that +I think of returning to Nice. The cards predict much good, but can +the cards be believed?</p> + +<p>Ah! if I could marry some prince! Then I would return to Nice and +make a triumphal entry. But no, it is indicated that nothing will +succeed for me; so I shall make no more plans or, if I do, it will +be with the sorrowful conviction of their uselessness. Each time I +have been disappointed.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Wednesday, January 5th, 1876.</h4> + +<p>This is what I wrote to the General:</p> + +<p>"I am in Rome, and it is very wonderful (ah! it is very wonderful, +very marvellous). It is cold as Russia, the water freezes in the +fountains, but the cold would be nothing if it was <i>only</i> the cold. +Since morning we have been in search of an apartment, and we have +seen only one. I did not have courage to go up when they pointed out +a black, yawning hole, dirty and frightful. I have looked in vain +for a house with any resemblance to the French houses. I find only +ruins or cracked columns. No doubt it is very beautiful, but agree +with me that a good, comfortable apartment is infinitely more +pleasant, though less artistic.</p> + +<p>"I believe we shall end by lodging in the baths of Caracalla or in +the Coliseum. The foreigners will take me for the ghost of a +Christian martyr, devoured by some fierce tiger in the presence of +some carnivorous emperor. As to the furniture, we will be content +with fragments of statues or a few bones, the sublime remains of a +henceforth impossible past. After my installation in the Coliseum, +or in the Forum, I will give you the most minute details concerning +the Eternal City. Meanwhile, I shall expect a letter from you, my +dear General, which will be, I know, kind and charming. Now good-bye +until we meet again.</p> + +<p>MARIE BASHKIRTSEFF."</p> +<br /> + +<p>It is the truth, there is not a habitable apartment; where are we? +Can this horrible city be called a capital? We are not in Europe! +Not a house fit to rent. I am discouraged, tired, but I will not +stir before May.</p> + +<p>O Rome! I think that we shall take a larger apartment in the hotel, +and stay there. One can breathe only in the Piazza di Spagna. It is +impossible that this is Rome! What a mixture of beautiful +antiquities and modern trash!</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Thursday, January 6th, 1876.</h4> + +<p>B—— has been here again and brought the addresses of some +professors. Then we took a carriage, and Mamma went to the Russian +priest's, the archimandrite Alexander. Being an archimandrite, he is +married, for in our country priests and deacons can be married once. +Mamma says that he is charming. Our embassy makes no show, and has +not even any regular reception day.</p> + +<p>This society makes me love Rome. I scarcely regret Nice, the +ungrateful, wicked city.</p> + +<p>Sad and irresolute yesterday, I am gay and confident to-day. I have +written to my aunt to send me F——, the ugly little negro will be +very nice to have here.</p> + +<p>I have had a good dinner, and spent the evening in reading the +history of Charles the Bold.</p> + +<p>I thought, "in my ingenuous candour," that there was no society +except in Nice, but there is a great deal, and even very excellent.</p> + +<p>After the drive we went down the Corso, thronged with carriages, +between rows of pedestrians of all classes. D——was among them. Now +that my eyes are opened to see the beauties and antiquities of Rome, +I am growing curious, eager to visit everything. I am no longer +drowsy. I am in a hurry to be everywhere. I want to live at full +speed again. Ah! if only I could!... Again a longing for Nice. The +poorest thing, by resisting, gains worth. Be thoroughly convinced of +this genuine truth. Do not believe that I am stupefied to the point +of not seeing beyond the city of S——; on the contrary, I am more +ambitious than ever. But meanwhile, to spit upon some one who has +spit on us, to give the person a kick, is a pleasure which every +well-born soul can permit itself.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Friday, January 7th, 1876.</h4> + +<p>Goodness! What prices people ask in Rome! For 1,800 francs one has +only the barest necessaries! At the Hôtel de Rome I saw an apartment +so large and so fine that it made my head ache. In France we have no +idea of this grandeur, this ancient majesty. After much searching we +have taken an apartment in the second story of the Hôtel de Londres, +with a balcony looking out upon the Piazza di Spagna, a handsome +drawing-room, several bedrooms, and a study. We went to B——'s +studio. He has very fair talent.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Tuesday, January 11th, 1876.</h4> + +<p>We did not go out, but the artist Kalorbinski came, and to-morrow +the lessons will begin. Monseigneur de Faloux, being unable to go +out himself, sent the Chevalier Rossy to bring us a number of +pleasant messages. I received him. I have learned a great deal about +affairs in the city.</p> + +<p>I am very proud of receiving some one myself. It seems like a +sovereign's first decree. The Russian priest has come to call on us +too. I like the cowled monks in Rome. They are new to me, and that +pleases me.</p> + +<p>At last I have a teacher of painting; that is something. This +evening I see everything in rose-colour, and I am already thinking +of a letter in which it will be said of A——: <i>Et eum dicat super +malitiosum, improbum, inhonestum, cupidum, luxuriosum, ebriosum!</i> +Exactly what Septimus Severus said of Albinus.</p> + +<p>If only the winter would pass more quickly. With all my misfortunes, +I feel better in Nice, I can give myself up to despair as much as I +please. Only last Spring, there was nobody there. The best people +gathered around us. P—— was deserted, so were the others. While +this Spring there will again be nobody, but P—— will have Miss +R——. These ladies, under the leadership of T——, will form a sort +of court, like that of the young Princess G—— and Mme. T—— three +months since. Both died three months ago.</p> + +<p>We shall see. Meanwhile let us study, and try to go into society. +Let us pray to God, and amuse ourselves by writing letters.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Wednesday, January 12th, 1876.</h4> + +<p>B—— and his cousin have called to see us. When these Russians go, +I put on my dressing gown again, and say a lot of things, and rank +myself among the goddesses, then descend to calling myself a little +bundle of dirty linen.</p> + +<p>I like to indulge in extravagant speeches, and make Mamma laugh. I +received a letter from B——, this charming friend gives me the news +of Nice. P——has had a reception, and everybody went. It seems that +we were mentioned in the presence of quite a large number of persons +in the consul's house, and the consul and his wife said nothing but +good about us.</p> + +<p>"I was glad," B—— wrote, "to see that they were your friends, too, +though you no longer went there so often."</p> + +<p>After all, I am very happy, very calm, and I am going to bed.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Thursday, January 13th, 1876.</h4> + +<p>Mamma and Dina are at church. It is our New Year's Day, and I have +stayed at home to sew. That is my whim at present, and I must do +what I wish. B—— called to offer his good wishes.</p> + +<p>Not until four o'clock did they succeed in dragging me out of the +house and, at five o'clock. Mamma is going to the embassy. That is +the hour Baronne D——receives.</p> + +<p>We had a telegram from Barnola. He congratulates us, and reminded me +of the promise I made to drink a glass of water at the Fountain of +Trevi at two o'clock on the Russian New Year's Day. He vowed +friendship, I did the same.</p> + +<p>I received a letter from my aunt, in which she told me that A—— +was paying attention to an English girl whom she has nicknamed +Olive. My aunt has so lively an imagination. At the end of three +days of our acquaintance with the Marvel, she told me that the poor +fool was in love with me. And she pitied him with eager kindness +while predicting for him the fate of the Polish count. Now she has +seen him at Monaco with the girl, and she is already marrying them. +Oh! it is really atrocious—always conjectures! Ah! if I could know +the truth. Have patience, that is easy to write. But to show it! +Patience is the virtue of sluggish—but gentle, foolish souls.</p> + +<p>I don't think I love the Marvel, I don't find him in my heart; but +at any rate, the surface is very much occupied with him. If he loved +me, I shouldn't care very much, that is the truth.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Friday, January 14th, 1876.</h4> + +<p>We met on the Pincio Count B——, who started at seeing me, then +bowed to my mother.</p> + +<p>At five o'clock we went to see Monseigneur F——, a thin, black, +agile old priest in a wig, a Jesuit, a hypocrite. He received us +very courteously in his remarkable drawing-rooms, filled with things +in the best taste. Gobelins, pictures, and all this in the dwelling +of a detestable Jesuit. Well, well!</p> + +<p>We all went to walk in the Villa Borghese, which is more beautiful +than the Doria. There was a crowd of people, and the pretty Princess +M—— was walking like any ordinary mortal, followed by her +carriage, with the coachman and two footmen in red livery. This +quantity of carriages with coats of arms saddened me. We know +nobody, God help me! Perhaps I am ridiculous with my complaints, +and my eternal prayers! I am so miserable! This evening Mamma asked +the date of last year's carnival; I took out my journal and, without +noticing it, spent two hours turning over the leaves.</p> + +<p>I said to myself: I am living to be happy! Everything must bow +before me! And see how it is—the idea that I could fail in anything +never occurred to me.</p> + +<p>A delay, yes, but a complete failure, nonsense!—And I see with +terror and humiliation that I was deceived, that nothing happens as +I wish. It is not because I love some one; I do not love anybody +seriously; I love a coronet and money. It is terrible to think that +everything is escaping. Each instant I long to pray to God, and each +instant I stop myself. I shall pray again, let what will happen!</p> + +<p>My God, Holy Virgin, do not scorn me, take me under your +protection.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Sunday, January 16th, 1876.</h4> + +<p>I feel that I shall write badly, for I have just been reading my old +journal. Mamma begged me to read the period of G——. I read it, +passing over a number of things. What is perfectly simple when +written is no longer so when read aloud. My face burned, my fingers +grew cold, and I ended by saying that I could not go on.</p> + +<p>"She will read it to us in two years," said Mamma.</p> + +<p>After St. Peter's, Mamma went to Baron d'I——'s, the ambassador's +cousin. She made his acquaintance at the ambassadress's. These +people are very simple and agreeable. I liked the baron especially.</p> + +<p>There was a crowd on the Pincio, the Corso and the Piazza Colonna +were thronged with carriages and people returning from the Pincio.</p> + +<p>We dined at the table d'hôte because the son of the Grand Duke of +Baden was to dine there. A number of society people were present, +and the Grand Duke is a pleasant fellow enough—for a Grand Duke.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Wednesday, January 19th, 1876.</h4> + +<p>We went to the Pincio, there were a great many people. The Duc de +L——, son of the Grand Duchess M——, the emperor's sister, was +there with Mme. A——, the wife of a Russian prefect. The Duc de +L—— saw her and was captivated. Since then she is always with him. +It is said that they are secretly married and live abroad. That is +what people call having happiness. She had liveried servants and +magnificent horses—suitable, I should think, for the niece of the +Emperor of Russia.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>January 19th, 1876.</h4> + +<p>At the church of St. John we met Baronne d'I——, the ambassadress's +cousin, who came up to Mamma and talked with her a long time, +apologising for not having yet called, on account of her husband's +illness. Mamma went to her house last Sunday, three days ago.</p> + +<p>From there to the Pincio, then to the Corso, crowds everywhere, I +like this animation.</p> + +<p>My aunt wrote that the Marvel, but she doesn't call him that, +everybody at Nice in our house calls him nothing but the "shaved +magpie," so my aunt wrote that the "shaved magpie" was at the opera, +and did nothing all the evening but weep, actually weep.</p> + +<p>There is news from Russia, nothing good, I think of nothing but +praying to God, and am in fear.</p> + +<p>I pity myself <i>now</i>, what would it be if we should lose our fortune! +Horrible!</p> + +<p>I pray to God and tremble. God will not abandon me.</p> + +<hr style='width: 45%;' /> + +<p>Rome bores me; Nice is my beloved country. I see Rome, Paris, +London, kings, courts, but there is nothing so pretty as my dear +villa. If ever I am rich, titled, and happy, I shall not forget it. +I shall spend several months of the year there! no, several +months—I could not do that, for everywhere, except in London, +winter is the principal season.</p> + +<p>We went to the photographer, S——'s, to tell him that I would come +to pose on Monday. I saw there a number of portraits of people I +know. While looking at L——, his wife, and L—— D——, it seemed +as if he were going to bow to me. Then a bewitching woman with big, +deep eyes, and heavy eyebrows above a straight nose. She resembles +R——. Dina says it is she. But no, she has not that round chin with +a dimple, and those magnificent eyes. No, it can't be, she is not so +beautiful.</p> + +<p>Then to the Pincio, then to a milliner to order a Marie Stuart cap, +and a Marie Antoinette turban. The woman showed me a gown she was +making for a ball at the Quirinal, day after to-morrow.</p> + +<p>This plunges me into inconceivable torture. If you knew how I dread +spending the Carnival without a single amusement! We found the +ambassadress's card at our home, so she has returned the visit. It +is rather late, all the same. Her cousin came at dinner time. The +Grand Duke of L—— asked who we were (who is that pretty Russian?). +B—— says Mamma ought to go to call on the Marquise de M——. He +says it is the custom here, especially from a foreigner to a Roman +lady. Let Mamma go anywhere, provided that I can go where I like. My +torture has no bounds, I am dying of it every instant. Do you want a +proof of my despair? There are times when I hope to marry A—— and +be something at Nice with P——; that gives the measure of my +discouragement, my desperation.</p> + +<p>I have had this humiliating thought once or twice. I tell you to +show you how low I descend, how vexed, how martyrised I am to live +in this way. Who will restore my lost time, my best time? I have +used every expression, and am dying because I cannot make myself +understood.</p> + +<p>I have written to C—— and to B——. I was in a hurry to tell them +the good news. I have the very weak middle notes which accompany the +abnormal compass of my voice. I have found a method of singing that +strengthens them wonderfully, so that they are almost as strong as +the rest. This delights me, and I am eager to write about it to +B——, who is so much interested in my voice. But for that, it would +have required two years study to render them satisfactory. I thank +God, and will pray to Him for the other things.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Thursday, January 20th, 1876.</h4> + +<p>After three years study, if no accident happens, I shall have a +voice such as is rarely heard, and I shall not yet be twenty.</p> + +<p>F—— is severe and just.</p> + +<p>I am afraid to say all that I think of my voice; a strange modesty +closes my lips. Yet I have always spoken of myself as if I were +talking of some one else, which has perhaps made people think me +blind and arrogant.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Friday, January 21st, 1876.</h4> + +<p>I want to have a gown like the one worn by Dante's Beatrice.</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Saturday, January 22nd, 1876.</h4> + +<p>Still another proof of the falsity of the cards. Yesterday I had a +sort of sorceress come and she pretended to give me good luck. She +told me to call the person I wanted. I called A—— and that woman +told me he could not live without me; that he was dying of grief +and jealousy, and he was especially jealous because a wicked woman +had told him that I loved another man.</p> + +<p>May all the witches die! May all the cards burn! They are nothing +but lies!</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Sunday, January 23d, 1876.</h4> + +<p>I am making a large white garment for the house, for the spring, in +Nice. Nice, miserable city, why cannot I live there as I like? In +Nice I know everybody, but to live in Nice except as a queen isn't +worth while.</p> + +<p>I am sad, I am in a foreign country, I long to return home, just for +a single day, for if I stayed longer, I should want to go back.</p> + +<p>In the evening we went to the Apollo theatre, they gave the <i>Vestal</i> +and a ballet. I wore white with a Greek coiffure. There were a +great many people, and an especially large number of men. Not a +single woman between our box and the stage.</p> +<br /> + +<h4><i>From Monday, January 24th, to February 10th, 1876: Rome, Hôtel de +Londres, Piazza di Spagna.</i></h4> + +<p>I swear that all these tragic and jealous remarks about A—— were +written under the influence of romantic reading, and that I only +half believed them while I was writing, exciting myself for the +pleasure of it, and I greatly regret these exaggerations.</p> + +<p>The archimandrite has been at our house. He is a charming man who, +after having been a soldier, turned monk from despair at having lost +his wife. He told us that there was a Madame S—— who greatly +desired to make Mamma's acquaintance.</p> + +<p>Returning from the photographer's, such dismal thoughts filled my +brain that I did not dress and let Mamma and Dina go out without me. +Being left alone, I am very sad, I am singing "Mignon."</p> +<br /> + +<h4>Tuesday, January 25th, 1876.</h4> + +<p>I am homesick. I took a singing lesson, and then went out with +Mamma. We went to M. de E——'s studio. He requested permission to +present a very elegant and popular M. Benard, received everywhere in +society. He told us a great many things about Rome.</p> + +<p>From there we went to Monseigneur de F——'s, who yesterday asked if +we had had our audience.</p> + +<p>This priest is turning out better and better, he has even made +scandals. He told us that I had been noticed at the opera, my white +dress had attracted attention, and said that to go to court we need +only write to the Minister or Ambassador.</p> + +<p>"I should like," he added, "to be able to open to you the other +door, as I have opened the Holy One."</p> + +<p>"O Monseigneur," I replied, "the Holy Door is far preferable."</p> + +<p>From there to the residence of Madame S—— (the archimandrite had +told her, and she was expecting us), who is the most charming and +the ugliest woman in the world. She received us in the most +delightful way, and immediately spoke of the Quirinal.</p> + +<div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 13916 ***</div> +</body> +</html> + diff --git a/13916-h/images/frontis.jpg b/13916-h/images/frontis.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8b3663b --- /dev/null +++ b/13916-h/images/frontis.jpg |
