Sunday, 26 October 1873

Maman is still in bed. We were to go with Dina to church, just the two of us, but the fierce Persian came and unfortunately we go with her -- though fortunately neither she nor her charming children were near us. There are quantities of Russians. But how numerous they are, and how badly dressed. I have decidedly a dislike for the Russians; I love only the English, and they are closer to me than the Russians.
Immediately after lunch I go with Paul to hunt, for we have on the villa grounds a meadow where game often comes, and apart from game, we wanted to kill ordinary birds. I had trouble jumping the ditches with the rifle, but Paul helped me. Once, thinking I was stepping on firm ground, I sank up to the middle of my calf in mud. I hitched up my skirt peasant-fashion, put on the horrible Genoese boots, Paul's hat with the drooping brim pulled well down on my head, and the rifle in my hand -- certainly this was no young girl, sweet as the morning dew! And the English, passing through the garden from church -- I turned my back to them so that at least they could not see my flushed face.
Twice I killed, but we could not find the birds.
At four o'clock we go out to the band concert. I went hunting to improve my complexion a little -- I was very pale. We took a walk, Bete, Papa, and I, and then went to Rumpelmayer's; the Princess pays -- she has received two thousand from her mother-in-law. The Vigier was very ridiculous, in the Kozodaieff manner. Extra-ridiculous.
A great many people, but rabble only. It is sad when one sees nothing but rabble!
I wrote an Italian letter for Georges. Tomorrow we go hunting with Paul at five in the morning.

Notes

In English in the original.