Friday, 31 October 1873

I think the rain will not prevent me from going out today. I had Auda alter the blue dress in front of me, and I gave her the brown jacket, since there is nothing to copy: it is done, thank God!
I went shooting, but there are no birds. To amuse myself I fired several times into the air, forgetting that I had only four cartridges. I had one shot left; I fire -- and at that moment a dozen birds rise from a nearby tree. I let out a cry of madness, seeing them fly away without being able to shoot. Vexed, I go home.
We go out -- Bete, Solominka, and I. We leave Solominka with Georges at the prosecutor’s.
Maman is better. I was bored to death seeing the deserted promenade, but as if to console me there appeared the Skariatine woman with her ugly daughter, the Prodgers, and the Vigier. Oh, the Vigier is so ridiculous -- she has almost no hair, and what little there is, is white, well pomaded and plastered to her temples in such a way that one sees the scalp; while in the middle a tuft of hair rises to the sky. To distract me still further appeared the motley crowd, and at last Wittgenstein, though from very far away. I thought he had gone, since his villa is closed. I thought I saw from the promenade his steamer returning to port. We saw him -- or at least I saw him -- going up the promenade in a carriage while we were going down. This time I was quite pleased:
“But do look, Princess -- Wittgenstein, the real one!”
For there is a peasant who resembles him, and whom Bete calls Wittgenstein.
I must have something to talk about. When Gioia left I thought I should die of boredom, but God sent me the Wittgenstein pair; at their departure, in truth, I no longer knew what to talk about or what to look at on the promenade, and now I see Wittgenstein and am glad to see a living soul. For all that ugly rabble is not even worth being spoken of, let alone looked at. I should need another woman like Gioia to look at, but I could never no, how stupid I am! Gioia interested me because of the Duke, and she still interests me in memory of the Duke, and a little because she is remarkable in her way. But what other woman can amuse me as she did?! No one, ever. Only his wife -- but that is too hard on my heart. The devil! What a fine fool I am: my heart! Where is it? Indeed, since Hamilton’s marriage I have lost it and I cannot find it again; it seems to me it has moved to the right.
crossed outIt will be very good
Tomorrow Miss Hitchcock is to arrive at three o’clock. I received notice from England that my saddle has been dispatched.
They are arranging something or other at Gioia’s house; I should like to know whether they are refurnishing or selling. I wish she would come back; she is so congenial. I would have given a great deal to see her often and speak to her, to be able to go to her house and see her at home especially.
I am still going on with my band; all this year it will be green, and each year I shall change the colour.
Paul will do nothing; he does not study; he is not serious enough; he does not understand that he must study. This grieves me; I am in despair. What will become of him, my God? Inspire him with wisdom! Make him understand that he must study, and inspire him with a little ambition -- just enough to try to be something, and not a Khalkionoff or some common nobody. He thinks Khalkionoff is perfection; he does not see the truth and his duty! My God, hear my prayer and grant it. Teach Paul his conduct, guide him, and guard him against all those rascals who lead him astray!
What will become of him like this? He will not study! Oh, my God, hear my prayer. Lead and guard Paul!

Notes

In English in the original. ↩