Monday, 24 February 1873

To the promenade (black silk and velvet dress, pink hat) — quite a lot of people.
I was bored. We ran several errands, with Patton in the carriage. Abramovitch came to call on us. I am bored today because I did not see Boreel — so it is on him alone that all my gaiety depends. How wretched one is; one cannot live independently. One always depends on someone — for instance, I depend on Boreel and the Duke of Hamilton, because I love them. It is funny to say I love them both at the same time, and yet that is how it is — what can you do? I have already said that I cannot go a single day without seeing one or the other. So long as I had only Boreel, I amused myself thinking about him, since now it cannot become serious (I cannot marry), and then one must hope that I shall have the Duke. Oh! if only it could be! My God, if only it could! He is rich, titled, of an almost royal family, he loves the amusements that I love, and I love him. It is perfection. But Gioia — oh! how I hate her!
Boreel has exactly my character; he even resembles me in face. He loves all the parties, the receptions, the fine dressing, the promenades; he loves to show himself to advantage. That is exactly me. We are made for each other. It is the plain truth. If only he loved me!
Stupid! I talk nonsense there. Boreel loves society and went about in it like everyone else, and for that there is no need to say he resembles me.
Today Maman is going to the ball at the Cercle Massena (red dress, white lace with fresh white camellias). If he dares not have himself introduced today and not make our acquaintance — after having seen me blush at the sight of him, after having seen that in my imagination I was on my knees before him, that when he looked at me I felt him all-powerful, after having seen, in short, that I love him — I do not know what I shall do, and I shall be all the more furious because I have almost told him that I love him. If I did not say it, I showed it — without meaning to, but I showed it. It is humiliating — word of honor, it is humiliating!
This requires explanation. I felt everything I say since the mark — (One never saw it. One saw only the blush. The rest is wild exaggeration. I was no doubt under the influence of some theatrical piece. I showed him nothing and almost said nothing. It is vexing to see how I was carried away saying such nonsense. If one reads this explanation one will not believe it, but I give my word of honor that in writing the follies of page 45, I knew they were follies. I wrote them telling myself that one day this would appear in some rhetoric textbook. I showed nothing to this dear man, fortunately — for from a child it is disgusting. Why could I not have been calm? I repent of it. It is stupid and disgusting to read.)
But who knows — this evening perhaps...
In the morning Maman told me about the ball. Boreel was costumed as a bandit. Upon seeing her he hurried over and offered her his hand, then lowered his eyes as though frightened by this step; Maman offered hers. He was leading the cotillion.
Just and well put — the handwriting of Marie's mother?
I am not too displeased because what he has done is a great deal — perhaps he could not find someone through whom to be introduced. The Marquis de Bellevue was introduced to Maman.
We spoke a great deal of Boreel at home. Oh! he knows that I love him — otherwise he would not approach Maman. Very well, I am pleased with him. If he loves me! Now there is a fine story! If he had not done what he did, I would be broken with rage on account of my pride.
Maman was very well surrounded.