Saturday, 5 April 1873

Fine weather. Before seven o'clock on the terrace, reading. The sea, the sky, the air — magnificent! One cannot deny God!
I wanted to go to Monaco — it is the pigeon shooting today — and I do not know how it happened: either I was late, or they did it on purpose. I am in a dreadful humor — the same as the day I did not go to the pigeon shooting in February. I cried; Maman offered to go at three o'clock; I consented, but when three o'clock came, I refused. Then, in my heart, during the dictation, I cried. I am so grieved. I pulled the petals off a daisy and it told me he was at Monaco today; another told me no, but that I would see him at the last pigeon shooting and even make his acquaintance. Oh! but if he was there today, I would never cease reproaching myself for not having put enough ardor into going — it is my fault; I let it go.
Oh! but Monday I shall go — I pray God to allow me to go. The daisy tells me I shall see him — that comes from God!
At the promenade (black velvet and cashmere dress, bandit hat) — we went looking everywhere for a hat, and in the Rue Gioffredo I found one; they will trim it for Monday. I should like one in grey felt like the other.
In the evening to the opera, Lucrezia Borgia; the performers sang well; the prima donna Scarati surpassed herself — she had been singing so badly and disagreeably, but today was the opposite; she sang very well. The theater full, a few people rather smart (pink dress, hair pinned up — smart). There are my terms: bad, rather good, good, and very good. What a pity there was no one to look at me. I never speak my desire that he should see me, because such a happiness seems supernatural and too great. I do not regard him as I do the others — he is like an unattainable divinity. It seems to me I would not dare to speak to him; I imagine the moment when he would speak to me!!! Oh! no — I would have had courage, provided he spoke to me. It is so great a happiness to see him that I cannot even imagine the rest.