Sunday, 23 February 1873

In the morning I was late and did not go to church. Going downstairs to take my bath I lost this book. What terror I felt when I noticed its absence. I was on the point of weeping, like a madwoman, but then I found it on the floor.
After lunch Barnola came and told us about Mme Sabatier's ball. Boreel was dressed as a bandit.
Last year he was dressed as a knight, in jacket and mantilla.
Then to the Visconti terrace (vicuna outfit) — a great many people there, quite elegant. The carnival was brilliant, magnificent, since it is the young men of the colony who organize it. There was a quantity of magnificent floats.
Nearly all of society was promenading below, in carriages, in white dominoes and iron masks. There was a costumed cavalcade, composed of young men — among them Boreel in his bandit costume. Truly he is very handsome, but so handsome, like nobody else; it is true that he is the handsomest man in all of Nice — one must be just. The entire procession was brilliant, enormous, grandiose, magnificent. (There was a float of society ladies in Nice violets, very fine — one is masked.) And it passed us several times.
I bombarded Boreel a great deal, and when he appeared we cried out "Boreel! Boreel!" loudly. Another time he smiled while looking at us. I told myself that if he passed once more I would throw him flowers, but he did not come, and we left. On the Pont Neuf, we saw Canaprien and Maman threw them flowers. Then Sonitchka — we had the carriage stopped to speak with her, but she only stopped at the end of the bridge. We spoke with her for a minute when all at once I notice that Boreel is near the carriage, watching us. I began to bury my face in my bouquet, but it made no difference — I blushed a great deal and he saw it. And then came a blunder.
This blunder makes me blush even now. There are things one always remembers and which torment. Truly it was dreadful!
I wanted to throw bouquets to Sonitchka but I threw them too close to Boreel. Oh! without meaning to! I do not know — it was stronger than I. While throwing these flowers, I was calling out: Sophie Grigorievna! again, again. He looked at the bouquets I was throwing as though saying to himself: "I see — these are for my account." I do not know why I looked at him while throwing the flowers (he was without costume, on foot) — perhaps it is my imagination... but no, he looked at them, the flowers. Let him think what he likes; after all, what does it matter to me? Oh! now he is certain that I love him — I blushed under his gaze. He is very, very fine. He was on horseback and in costume — very fine indeed. But I am vexed about those bouquets; I would not want him to think of me like that — it displeases me very much.
These flowers will torment me all my life, every time I remember them. It is true.
All in all I had a very good time. I do not know what will happen, but for the moment Boreel pleases me — I cannot deny it, that would be impossible.
Perhaps if I see the Duke all this will disappear, but for the moment... [Crossed out: I love him and he knows it] It will pass no doubt, but if not, what is to be done? How unfortunate that he is not Baron Finot!
Little fool.
Oh! but if he loves another, I do not wish to love him — no, no. In the evening we went by carriage to see the electric illumination of the Cours and the Rue Saint-Francois-de-Paule. Very fine indeed — the flags and colored lanterns gave a magnificent, fairy-like aspect to it all. We met the Anitchkoffs on the Cours and went with them to Rumpelmayer's for hot chocolate and ices. We were: Maman, my aunt, Sophie, Emile, Dina, myself, M. and Mme Anitchkoff. Then home. I am very pleased with today. Above all with having seen Boreel — that is what made me gay and happy.