Friday, 14 March 1873

Fine weather but windy.
In the study room that morning, I hear the sound of a carriage along the Rue de France; I look and I see the Duke of Hamilton's four-horse carriage heading toward Gioia's. Oh! my God, can he have returned? Lord, have pity, help me! Oh, if he is here, then she too is here. Oh! my God, I can only implore Your aid! I am trembling all over just from seeing his carriage. If he is here, he will take part in the Pigeon Shooting in April in Monaco. I shall go, absolutely... if God wills it.
At the promenade (black dress, vicuna coat), not many people. I saw Madame Paskevitch; I was so glad to see her — it is not for her sake, well, a little; but above all because all these people remind me of Baden-Baden, where I could see the Duke. He stayed almost always at the promenade; so if I had loved him then! But no, it would have served no purpose because I was a child. But if I could spend a summer at Baden-Baden now!
[Written across the page: And now I am fourteen.]
My God, when I think that Grand-papa made the Duke's acquaintance in a shop — they talked — if I could have foreseen what was to happen, I would have cultivated this acquaintance; I would have spoken to him myself, I would have been forever under some pretext or other with Papa. Now he would bow to me!
Ah! but why dream of things past that can never return! I was as glad to see Madame Paskevitch as I was Monsieur Noley, whom we met on Wednesday — we had the carriage stopped and spoke to him. I forgot to say this under "Wednesday." But how I wish I could see him! Tomorrow at three o'clock Sophie and Emile leave, and perhaps we shall see them off to Monaco. Oh! if he is there! — the Duke, for I no longer speak of the other in such elevated terms.
Maman keeps to her bed still.