Saturday, 26 July 1873

I woke at eight and went to the little room next door. Everyone was there. And I learn the following: yesterday, Georges had a Monaco guard to lunch, and someone else. After eating and drinking, they went bathing in the one-thirty sun. Anna was on the shore, and seeing black birds circling above the bathers, she took it for a bad omen and began screaming at the top of her lungs. At these screams Georges turned back, but the guard had a sunstroke and died. Georges had been drinking; he was in a dreadful state. We feared for his life.
We are not leaving until Tuesday! I am more than dismayed! I weep — I am the most wretched creature!!!!!!! These delays will kill me!
[Crossed out: I was lying in bed at my aunt's and arguing about our journey, etc.] [In the margin: This morning when I was lying in bed at my aunt's, she said to me, "What do you think — that Hamilton will marry?" "And you, who are you thinking of marrying?" I replied coldly, and the subject dropped.]
Around six, Georges arrived with Trifon, who had been sent this morning, and that horror!!!! Drillat. I fled to my room. After dinner, the Princess and I went out together — first to the London House for peaches and grapes, then to the Promenade. I no longer remember what we were talking about when she said to me:
— You will marry the Duke of Hamilton.
— What makes you say that, Madame?
— Just like that; I thought about it and decided — it will suit you.
— But why? Do you know him?
— No.
— Well then, you have seen him — the stout one, the red one?
— Oh yes, I have seen him often.
— But how funny — what made you think of it?
— It will be very fine; you will be a duchess, and rich. Never marry a poor man — all husbands turn bad with time. So it is better to shed one's tears through cloth of gold than through a doormat.
— But he is so ugly, and not rich.
— Very rich. What does ugliness matter? He is so rich.
— Oh! he has squandered the Hamilton fortune.
— Oh! my dear, I wish you to pick up the crumbs, and that is enough. It is then that I would see you in grand style!
To all this I replied with forced and agitated laughter, and with the horrid things I said about him.
And you like stout ones.
— Who told you that?
— Oh, just like that! And you are blonde like Gioia — only she dyes her hair.
— Who is this Gioia?
— She is a cocotte with whom he lives.
— The one on the Promenade?
— Yes, yes, that very one — she is his mistress.
(I knew that perfectly well, but!)
— But what has come over you today, Princess? Where did you get this Hamilton from?
— When you are a duchess, you will invite me to your castle in England.
— But I have no castle.
— The Hamiltons have a superb castle. We shall kill Gioia — we shall annihilate her together.
I was far from wanting this to end, and I told her everything I knew about Gioia — that she has two children.
— But they are not all Hamilton's; some are by Simonoff, the Russian merchant, and others.
I told her that they say Hamilton is married to her, and that he will not say so because his mother would die of despair.
— I should think so — a cocotte! And him too. And him — why? Because it pleases him.
— Oh! but for me, Marie, a cocotte is dreadful.
— Since it pleases him.
— Fie!
I wish I could remember every word. In the end, we walked for nearly two hours, and the subject was the same throughout. She asked me whether Carlos is handsome; I described him.
— He must be superb.
— That one is better-looking (I was amusing myself by attributing to him everything most ugly, and at the same time saying he is better-looking than the other). Then I said:
— I do not like them dark and thin; a face should be round, full, and fair.
She laughed:
— Why do you laugh?
— It is nothing; I shall remind you of that when you are Duchess of Hamilton.
We spoke of Baden, of the races, of Gioia a great deal.
— Fie! she says to me — your husband married to a cocotte, what a disgrace!
— Come now, Princess, what husband!
— But how — your husband married to a cocotte!
This entire conversation astonishes me to the highest degree. Where did she get all this? Truly there are most extraordinary things in this world. I cannot get over it! How could she have known?
[A torn page]
To tell the truth, I am charmed by it. We spoke a great deal more in this vein. It was like a beautiful dream; at every moment I feared it would end. We went far behind the avenue de la Gare; on the way back, a star was falling — we each let out an exclamation; they say one must make a wish. I wished to be his wife.
— This Hamilton is so [Corner of page torn], I said to her;
— A shirt, [Corner of page torn] a dirty cravat, his trousers in his boots.
— You will praise him yet, Moussinka.
— Oh no. One morning — first I must tell you — before the Duke appears, one hears whistling. We were in Baden at seven; we hear whistling, and then a shabbily dressed man appears.
— Why does that wretch not change his shirt for him?
— It is his nature to be dirty; she can do nothing about it, and it is not her business, she interrupted.
— He was so dirty — a dreadful shirt, an old jacket.
— You will change his trousers and his shirt.
All [Corner of page torn] she interrupted with remarks of this kind.
— Maman said: "How that man resembles the Duke of Hamilton." Then I said it was him, but they would not believe it.
— But how did you recognize him — was he whistling, or was he calling "Gioia, Gioia" as he went?
This word "Gioia" — the Princess said it in such a comical tone, as though calling a dog.
— No, he was not calling "Gioia, Gioia" — but I know him very well by face.
— Is he known in society? Does he mix with everyone in Baden? And generally the barines?
— He knows only vodka and horses.
— And Gioia.
Yes.
I recounted his drive in a tall carriage with four racehorses, etc. etc. etc.
Everything that could be said against him was said. It is one of my great pleasures to slander him. I take pleasure in hearing these slanders denied before me.
But what had come over this Princess today! I cannot get over it, upon my word of honour!
At home we found the Howards — the old one in white muslin and sky-blue taffeta, and what a hairstyle! And what a figure! My God, what a caricature! They spoke of Vienna, of cholera — they say dreadful things about it. Then I offered to change the subject; it was irritating me. The young Mrs Howard said that most Englishwomen abroad are immediately recognizable by their grotesque and wretched dress. The old one objected. A little more and we should have had a quarrel.
If we do not leave on Tuesday, if they dare! I shall lie down on the bed and scream until they go mad with fright, and then we shall go.
I am so sad; I can hardly contain myself, to keep from weeping at every moment. My eyes close with sleep.
— But I do not know him.
One makes acquaintance.
— Where?
— Everywhere.
If that could be, my God. If these words could come true! Oh! my God, I have no hope but in Thee!

Notes

"Subject dropped" in English in the original.