Sunday, 14 September 1873

Maman wakes me at eleven. Auguste comes with his landau and the debates begin. One party is for Auguste, the other for Dominique. They set out the faults of each, then their merits, their landaus, their horses. Poor Dominique -- it will pain me if they send him away. Auguste's landau and horses are much better, but poor Dominique! They offer six hundred francs for the winter months and five hundred for September and October. Auguste leaves without consenting. But within a few minutes he returns and consents. One cannot do otherwise than take him. Papa has been so primed by Trifon -- whom Auguste bribed at the cafes -- that he is for Auguste. I said neither yes nor no; I could not offend Dominique nor disappoint Auguste, who has been repentant for so long. A month after we had Dominique, he sought by every possible means to return. He went to Lefevre, to Mlle Kolokolzoff, and I know not where else, to ask for their protection. My heart was heavy for Dominique, but let us think no more of it. There will be so many great occasions that will wring the heart that one must brush aside the small ones. One would be too unhappy if one took everything to heart. I want to take nothing to heart, to pity nothing, to be hard -- and yet I take everything, I pity everything, and I cannot be unfeeling even while saying that one must be, and that I am.
The affair is over; we have Auguste once more. His landau is very fine for a hired one, very fine; the horses too. The little Black boy will ride on the box; tomorrow I shall try to find an hour to order a livery and a hat.
It rains and it is windy. Maman and my aunt are at the Anitchkoffs'; I go there (rain coat, not bad), take them to the station, and return to collect the Princess and go to the London House for chocolate.
This morning I said I wish to tell M. Lefevre how improper his conduct at the theatre was. I was indignant with all the force of my lungs. "If you do not know how or will not put him in his place, I shall know how, and I shall defend myself" -- thus I concluded my speech.
Instantly defenders appeared; they cited examples to me -- that Lewin went to Gioia's, then to Mme Prodgers', and finally that Hamilton is often with Gioia in public.
What do all these people matter to me -- Lewin, the devil; Hamilton, Satan -- they can go where they please; what do I care?! I defend myself, and the rest may do as they will!
Walitsky annoys me with Hamilton; he makes vulgar jokes, tells me I am blushing, but I am not blushing -- or perhaps a little.
I am happy to resist these jokes calmly, not to lose my composure, and to be able to speak of him as of anyone else. But when I say his name, I must have a radiant expression; a feeling of well-being seizes me, I tremble with pleasure inwardly. Ah! alas, I cannot describe what I feel -- only that I am happy.
-- Why do you annoy me with this Hamilton? You will carry on until, on seeing him, I blush like an idiot -- and for nothing!
-- I was told, my dear, that you were blushing long before, says the Beast, and that (comically) Gioia wanted to kill you.
-- Ah! God, if she wanted to kill me, how happy I should be!
This Duke of Hamilton is becoming widely talked about, unfortunately. But I so love speaking of him; I speak with exaltation, trying to appear calm. I consider Gioia a nothing. She and I are two entirely different things.
I posted my letters to Canterbury and we dine. They go to the theatre; I go too, but only to enter and leave. I keep my waterproof on; the locals are astonished, but I regard them as one regards dogs. At nine o'clock I leave; they have just begun La Patrie, which I saw last year.
I put Nadia to bed in the yellow drawing room with Bijou. Khalkionoff is in the box. Paul and he walked me to the carriage. Khalkionoff finds my coat very chic. I pay him as much attention as I would the first passerby in the street.

Notes

In English in the original.
In English in the original.
In English in the original.
In English in the original.