Sunday, 9 March 1873

To church (blue dress) — Maman took communion (violet velvet dress, white crêpe de Chine wrap). Then unexpectedly Mme Anitchkoff proposed we go to have our photograph taken at Shier's, and we were photographed — myself and Maman.
Then home at half past one. At half past two we went — myself, Dina, and Mlle Collignon — to Mme Howard's, who had invited us yesterday to spend Sunday with her children.
At their house we walked in the garden, then indoors — the children so kind and lovely that it is truly a pleasure to visit them. We were on the point of leaving around five when Mme Howard came home and told us she had been at Maman's and asked permission to keep us until the evening; so we stayed. (Patton was there.) After dinner we went to the large drawing room, which was dark, and the girls begged me so to sing — they went down on their knees, all the children likewise; we laughed a great deal. I sang "Santa Lucia," "The Sun Has Risen," "I Am But a Herb-Gatherer," and a few roulades. They were all so enraptured that they began to kiss me dreadfully — yes, that is the word. I did not sing badly. The grown-ups were in the other room, listening; at first I did not know it, then I knew, but I continued.
The children looked at me and spoke to me with an emotion full of wonder and respect for my voice; they predicted a glorious future for me, and were so rapturous that Lise kissed my shoulder, then even my hand. I cannot describe the fervor I produced in them — the boys imitated them as well.
If I could produce the same effect on the public, I would have taken to the stage this very day. It is a great emotion to be admired for something more than one's dress. Truly, by these admiring words of children I am quite delighted — what would it be, then, if I were admired by others!
I truly did not expect to please them so. Lise was jealous of Hélène. Both wanted me all to themselves.
I enjoyed myself enormously, and it is because I was admired. What it means to have any talent at all — one is admired, loved, respected, honored; people look at you with a sort of superstitious reverence.
Oh! how it delights me. I received kisses without number. They adore me.
Truly I can only repeat how the girls love me! They kissed me endlessly. They marveled at how I could sing so well without having learned. Hélène, Lise, and Jean played the piano very well.
I am made for triumphs and emotions; therefore the best I can do is become an opera singer. If God will preserve, strengthen, and enlarge my voice, there I can have the triumph I thirst for. There I can have the satisfaction of being famous, known, admired — and it is through that path that I can have the one I love. Remaining as I am, I have little hope he will love me. He does not know I exist. Oh! no, he knows me — but that is not what I seek.
When he sees me surrounded by glory and triumph! Men are ambitious! He will leave Gioia for me, I am sure of it... If God wills it.
And I can be received in society because I shall not be a celebrity sprung from a tobacco shop or a dirty street. I am noble. I have no need to do anything for a living — my means permit it — therefore I shall have still more glory and greater ease in rising.
In this way my life will be perfect — I dream of glory, fame, being known everywhere.
Appearing on the stage, to see those thousands of people who wait with pounding hearts for the moment you will sing, to know, looking at them, that a single note of your voice brings them all to your feet. To look at them with a proud gaze — "I can do anything!"
It is true; it is just.
This is what I dream — this is my life, my happiness, my desire. And then, surrounded by all this, His Grace the Duke of Hamilton will come like the others to prostrate himself at my feet — but he shall not receive the same reception as the rest. Dear, dear one — I love you so. You will be dazzled by my splendor and you will love me! You will see the triumph with which I shall be surrounded! And it is true — you are worthy only of a woman such as I hope to be. I am not ugly — even pretty — oh! yes, rather pretty; people find me... very pretty, and I please.
— I am extremely well formed, like a statue.
— I have rather fine hair.
— I have a very good manner of coquetry.
— I know how to conduct myself with men.
— I know how to pose very well; at present I cannot put it into practice, but later.
— And finally, to be a celebrity of the world!
All this must bring him to my feet. He must not marry another woman — this one shall be worthy of him, of his rank, of his wealth, and of himself.
He pays no attention to Pattis because they belong to everyone and because they are taken for sovereigns.
But I am not like that — I am virtuous; I will not give so much as a kiss to any man but my husband, and I can boast of what not all girls of fourteen can: that I have never been kissed nor kissed anyone. Of this I could boast to my husband, and it will be the truth.
Then a young girl whom he will see at the highest pinnacle of glory a woman can attain, loving him with a steadfast love since [Crossed out: almost] her childhood, virtuous and pure [Crossed out: and innocent] — that will astonish him. He will want me at any price and will marry me out of pride. But what am I saying — why do I place myself at so low a rank as a woman? Why can I not admit that he might love me? Am I some wretch who cannot be loved? I shall be better than Gioia! Yes! with the help of God! God has shown me the means by which I can have the one I love! Thank you! O my God! Thank you! What happiness can be greater on earth? Now, if he paid attention to me, he would think he was honoring me; but then I shall show him that it is I who honor him by marrying him, because I give up all my glory for him.
But what happiness can be greater! First of all, to be a girl adored by her parents, cared for, and having everything a child can have! Then to be known, admired, sought after, and honored by the entire world, and to have glory and triumph every time one sings! And finally to become Duchess of Hamilton and have the Duke whom I have loved so long. To be received, respected, admired by everyone; to be rich in my own right and through my husband; to be able to say that I am not bourgeois by birth, as all celebrities are.
To have everything I want, and then — and then the principal thing — to have the man I love, loving and adoring me. O! my God! This is my life, this is the happiness I desire! If I can become his wife without being an opera singer, I shall be equally satisfied — but I believe I could attract him to me only by being one.
Oh! if this happiness were possible! My God, Thou hast shown me through what I may obtain what I ask! Oh! Lord, help me! I place all my hope in Thee. Thou alone canst make me happy! My God, I beseech Thee, by Thy grace, make me happy! Thou hast made me understand that it is through my voice that I may obtain what I ask. Therefore it is upon my voice that I must fix all my thoughts — it is my voice I must care for, spare, and guard. I swear to Thee, Lord, that I shall no longer sing — or rather scream — as before.
On leaving Mme Howard's, they covered me with an ermine cloak. I found myself looking quite well. If I became Duchess of Hamilton, a cloak like that would suit me. [Crossed out: Everything tells me I shall be a duchess.] I am too presumptuous — because I put on an ermine cloak, I imagine I am a queen.
Thank you, my God! for having shown me through what I may have the one I love.