Wednesday, 21 May 1873

Georges will not come here to appear before the tribunal. It would be so easy, and it would take from the Tolstoys and their lawyer the power to say all sorts of vile things. If he does not come, he cannot have a lawyer, and they will have one who can burden the whole family with the most dreadful accusations without anyone to restrain him — for we cannot; it does not concern us. I am utterly crushed; I am wretched because of this. The Tolstoys, even apart from all this, say horrors about us. And now this affair! They will be able to say anything. And I too suffer from it — my name. I have never found myself in such a position. The Tolstoys slander us everywhere. It breaks me. I wept like an animal. It is the first time I have wept from an affliction like this. It is a dry grief. Even the death of someone is better (as grief) — for that is wet, and this is dry. I wept so much, so much. I was wretched, humiliated, dismayed. Never have I had to suffer in this way; I am beginning early. I scolded Georges; I accused him of everything; I expressed myself very bitterly. In my pain, my first thought was to go pray to God to deliver me from this dreadful thing. But alas! I did not go — I was distracted. But this evening I have lost all my energy; before I would run instead of walk, and today I walk like a cat. I tried to jump, but it proved awkward, clumsy.
I shall pray God to preserve me against these slanders, and the whole family — for our good name could be tarnished, and for nothing. It will ruin my whole life. But God is merciful; He will deliver us. He will preserve us from all evil attacks. He will keep us.
[In the margin: To the promenade (violet dress); try on the grey dress.]