Wednesday, 26 February 1873

In the morning it rains, but then the rain stops: a grey day; it rains nearly all the time, a dreadful wind.
To the promenade (black dress, grey jacket, bandit hat), in the carriage with Dina; then we came to fetch Maman and my aunt, with whom we went to Mme Teplakoff's — it is her day. Then home. It rains all the time. I put this question to myself again — whom do I love? — and after reasoning and reflecting, I found that I love two people at once:
— the Duke of Hamilton
— M. Alfred Boreel.
I love the Duke more than Boreel when both are absent. When both are present, there is nothing to be said — I love the Duke more than Boreel; in a word, I love the Duke and I do not love Boreel. But when I see only one, I prefer the one I see — or rather, I find Boreel passable when I see him alone, not for marriage, because I can marry only the Duke.
Maman and my aunt went to Monte Carlo. How funny — it is only today that I realize what it means that Boreel, without having been introduced, came to shake Maman's hand at the ball. Perhaps the whole time he was thinking of me (oh, how presumptuous I am!) and more precisely of how I turned so red upon seeing him on Monday, and was very happy to see someone... in a word, I do not know how to explain myself; I understand myself, and that suffices. [Crossed out: On returning from Monaco.] So there I stand: I love the Duke of Hamilton positively, and Boreel for amusement.
Be that as it may, I should very much like Boreel to love me, if only to humiliate him.
I do not understand.